More of me spinning ofF the ideas of others. This time from Nayara Nair who(I think) is alluding to a little dissatisfaction in relationships (not hers, I am sure) and painting, for me, a picture of two familiar strangers looking over the table at breakfast.

**

I don’t care much for coffee
Does coffee care for me?
My cup is always empty
Is that how it should be?
We sit here at the table
At night we share a bed
Your ring upon my finger
But are we really wed?
You ask me how I’m feeling
I say I’m feeling fine
But I don’t care much for coffee
I’m in the mood for wine

**

In my continuing series of completely unoriginal ideas I offer the following. The inspiration comes, once again, from Stella, who speaks of a yearning for the past. And who of us do not have such yearnings, at least occasionally?

Personally I am constantly haunted by a strong desire to return to my time as a schoolboy during which I was an arrogant, self absorbed, thoughtless, reckless young dickhead. I find life as an arrogant, self absorbed, thoughtless, reckless old dickhead so much less satisfying.

But it seems that science is unlikely to unlock the secrets of backward time travel in my lifetime (forward time travel has been mastered – I’m rocketing in that direction at a terrifying rate) so I may have to concede that those halcyon days of my youth are gone forever ….

But I digress. Below is my uninspiring response to Stella.

**

It’s Tuesday

And the sun will say

That no longer is it

Yesterday

It will not listen

To my sorrow

There will be time for that

Tomorrow

Today will be

As it will be

It will not change its plans

For me

For soon I will be dead

And rotten

All my yesterdays

Forgotten

**

I now have 2 entries in the NYC Midnight competitions awaiting judgement. The second round of the Flash Fiction Competition was some time ago and I had almost forgotten about it but, in the interests of honesty and self reporting, I do so here.

I should point out, lest anyone think ‘second round’ implies success in the ‘first round’ that, in this particular contest, it is impossible not to get to the second round. After round one I am placed equal last, so round three will not be happening.

In this instance the prompt was Drama/An Archery Range/A Diamond Ring.

The Arc of an Arrow

Sorry.

That was a terrible pun. Although I find the concept of God (especially the Christian one) absolutely laughable I do try not to laugh about it all that much. Sort of.

Sometimes things get the better of me.

Cyranny wrote a post dealing with the idea of a ‘Fallen Angel’ and I thought I might run with that idea by creating some lyrics for a sort of teen love song (a former specialty of mine) that ended up in the back seat of a car.

But I got a bit off track. So the accompanying picture is irrelevant. But it is special to me, nonetheless.

***

Fallen Angel. Rising Star

Tell me where you’ve been so far

Tell me all that I might see

If I should be so heavenly

Tell me of your God above

Tell me of His boundless love

But. Tell me. Did you have some doubt?

Is that why He cast you out?

Did you look, but could not see?

His precious holy trinity?

Did you think, but could not say

That there might be another way?

Did you touch, but could not feel

Everything He claimed was real?

Did you see the acrobat?

Angel. Did you smell a rat?

You felt Him here. You felt Him there

You felt him in your breath. Your air

You felt Him in your heart. Your core

You need not feel Him anymore

That was His night. This is your day

You didn’t need Him anyway

For He was never there at all

So. Angel. Let me break your fall