Anyway ….

This is for Linda’s SOC Prompt brought to my attention (though not deliberately) by J-Dub. I’m not much good at responding to prompts, but thought I’d try ….. anyway. I didn’t try very long or very hard. In the spirit of the prompt it was the first thing to come into my head.


Anyway. There we were on this lifeboat about 300 miles off the coast of Madagascar. The sun was setting somewhere back towards where land should have been, the amount of it already submerged beneath the horizon being revealed accurately only from atop the summit of each passing swell. Soon all would be blackness illuminated only occasionally by the phosphorescent glow of breaking waves, and before long one of these waves, a cold angry giant from Antarctica, would capsize the lifeboat and cast us all into the depths. I wondered who of us would even bother trying to swim. Very few, I imagined. Certainly not me, anyway.


Power Pop?

I read a few people making contributions to Jim’s post here and I confess that the term ‘power pop’ strikes me as something of an oxymoron. It suggests a musical direction that doesn’t actually know where it’s going. Which is fine, I suppose.

But I can’t think of any lyrics that would qualify for the term that I actually like. I’m not big on ‘pop’ and I think I have long grown out of ‘power’. My contribution, though shamelessly ‘pop’ is certainly not ‘power’.

But I provide it because it was written and performed by an old pal about a million years ago and I am doing a lot of reminiscing lately.


Jimmy took the hope train
But he didn’y know where it went
It went, down into some kind of wonderland
Looking plastic and slightly bent now
Yes he knows he’s running deep inside
Cause he’s just one of those lonely hearted
Dressed up in thier pride
And he says that love can be such a funny thing
Love can make you feel so cold now
Isn’t it from the heart of the sunshine
And he knows hes’s growing old now
Don’t you know you’re burning deep inside
Yeh he’s just one of those lonely hearted
Dressed up in their pride
And he says love will find its way every way
Yer ah
Don’t want to give it up
I know I’ll find it
It’ll come someday
Even though I’m going down
I’ll see that lonely hearted clown
Love will find ah, love will love will find a way
Ah yeh, ah yeh, love will find a way
Aha, aha, love will find a way


I’ll grant you that the video looks sweetly ridiculous half a century later, but is that not the very nature of pop?

Love Will Find a Way

Another Crack at the NYC Competition

The people at the NYC Midnight Competition like keeping me on my toes. My results are so utterly unpredictable as to suggest a degree of randomness. The latest example of this came in the ‘rhyming story’ competition in which my round one entry (here) managed 3rd place in my heat and propelled me into the penultimate round.

Confidence is not running high for a repeat result. Nevertheless, I include the second round entry (500 words/ romantic comedy/ caffeine/awkward) below.

Depending on your level of boredom you may like to read it.












This Girl and This Guy


A nervously anticipated blind-date goes badly wrong.


Plunging neckline. Party dress.

This girl is planning to impress

Painted toenails. Coiffured hair

Hints of silky underwear

So exciting, she can’t wait

And though it’s not her first blind-date

Who knows? If this guy’s not ‘the one’

At the least he might be lots of fun



Pre-romantic agitation

Jumbled mental preparation

Mind is racing. Head’s a mess

This guy is feeling full-on stress

Caffeine. Caffeine. Concentrate

And then some gin. To compensate

A skinful. For the caffeine fix

In throbbing veins. A toxic mix


This girl is sitting at the bar

 Eight-fifteen, he can’t be far

Delayed, perhaps, in passing showers

Delayed, perhaps, whilst buying flowers?

I wonder, will he bring a rose?

And whilst I’ve had a few of those

This girl can never have enough

Of pretty things. And other stuff


One more coffee. Can’t be late

I need to punch above my weight

Feeling neither up nor down

Nor in good shape to hit the town

Semi-conscious leaving home

No thought to brush the teeth, or comb

the hair. Or even press a shirt

I wonder if this girl will flirt?



Through the door, this guy injected

Perhaps not quite what she’d expected

Coming down the stairs he’s tripped

Oh my God! This guy is ripped!

Crazy hair, dishevelled dress

This guy is in a frightful mess

Eyes like saucers, legs unstable

This guy is heading for my table


Hello. A drink? A glass of wine?

No thanks. A water will be fine

Is that a joke? Just playful banter?

He’s reaching for the wine decanter

And whoops! Before he’s poured a sip

This guy has had a minor slip

Don’t be alarmed. There’s no distress

A tiny drop upon your dress




A tiny drop??? A major topple!

Overturned a half a bottle!

Soaked in wine from head to toe

How much worse could this thing go?

This guy’s become too much to handle

Now, what’s he doing with that candle?

Some bizarre attempt to please?

Beneath the table, on his knees?


Madam, let me shine a light

Upon your gown, which once was white

Yet still looks fine. Let me admire

And whoops! I’ve set the thing on fire

That’s quite a blaze, oh, deary me!

Alas, no time for modesty

Just whip it off. There’s no one staring

Well, no-one yet. And no point caring


What is this??? I’m almost nude

Before we’ve even ordered food.

And now there’s offers of first aid

And someone’s called the fire brigade

Run for it! Evacuate!

Save yourselves, ‘fore it’s too late!

So out the door the panic flows

With all but one still wearing clothes





A trifle awkward? What a sight!

At least it all turned out all right!

No-one killed. And no arrests

My girl! You’ve got fantastic breasts!

And though we started off unsteady

I feel I know you well already

Your place or mine? I’ll call a car

How do you like this guy, so far?