Blog – Page 5 – Rhythm of the Ink

Jul 23, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, flash fiction, lost, Mental Health, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

Your Choice

All alone, nowhere to call home, sofa surfing, nomadic loafer. Anger rises no surprises, hounded by your past, how long will it last? Used by all, scarred as you fall, free for all society maul. Making bad calls.

History shaped you; pounded you and raped you, brought you to your knees, just wanted to please, now life of sleaze that disagrees. Once again on your knees, not praying to a god. but, struggling so on you plod. No job, not the type to rob. Life taken and shaken, future forsaken. Life of drugs replaces the hugs. Anger smashes love crushing olive branches from a dove.

Advice not taken, path mistaken, lonely walk to who knows where, flitting from place to place as people care until you scare, then you are not welcome there. No money to hold your flat, selling this and that, surviving the only way, you know how, living in the here and now, no routes just any old how.

Take your chances on the streets, soon if not now. You can beat this turn it around pick your life up off the ground. Only you can live this life and only you can change your mind. Recognise when people are being kind and don’t upset with your constant whine. It’s up to you to put that life behind.

Jul 22, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, flash fiction, poem, Poetry

Green

Green scene of grass and trees, a sight for the eyes to please, Pollen rising making sufferers sneeze, children with green stains on their knees from rolling in the grass and climbing trees. Green utopia swaying in the breeze.

Pink and white intersperse the green of the hedge, flowering berries line the edge, green of the box hedge deterring witches, cut like a ledge. Green of spring and summer too, grows with morning dew. Motors of grass cutters green, levelling the grass to improve the scene, clip back the bushes, blow away the leaves, clearing up with electrical breeze.

Then comes the rain, fine at first then building to a big outburst, satisfying the greenery, quenching its thirst. Water drops hang off the leaves and the stems of grass, like pure beads of glass glistening in the midday sun, light rays forming rainbows having some fun. Damp feel of saturated grass consuming its elixir that overflows, drinking its fill before it goes.

Jul 17, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, cave, flash fiction, lost, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

Lost on a Mountain Top

Wandering, lost in the mountains, thin air slowing breathing as much as it dares. Lost in rock and boulder and crag, energy beginning to lag. Pain in my body, fog in my mind, a way out I try to find. Every step becomes a grind close to the edge of lost with time. Busting my spirit to drag my body, occupying my mind with thoughts of hot toddy.

Stumbling, exhausted, every step of the way, trying to find a landmark to show me the way. Night falls on rock sprawl, into my sleeping bag I crawl. Fully clothed with hat and gloves cold tries to take me from the ones I love. No sleep in the night, no end to pain in sight, running knowledge in my brain until first light. Cup of tea and bite to eat, my body craves more of the heat. Deserted ridge no one shall we meet, weary body stumbles to its feet. Reluctant steps one by one taking whatever will come. Then in the valley I see some cars, I must let them know I’m not far, as I shout, the words come out and echo around the outcrop. Did they hear, will they soon be here? I sit on a rock, this is where I stop stuck on a mountain, not knowing how to get off this rocky top.

Then, to my surprise, I see a pair of big eyes and a wet nose, where he came from I don’t know. He sits by me keeping me warm, barking my presence to the rescue team, like a horn. Soon, I was surrounded and with questions hounded, before I was led off the mountain and thoroughly grounded. Glad to be down, in the warm and dry, small tears in my eyes as I have a cry, don’t ask me why, but I’m now down, off this high.

Jul 17, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, flash fiction, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

Love That Is

One step closer to complete love, the love that lasts and defines you, it’s hue absorbs you takes your breath away enthralls you. Love that will crawl to you no matter how hard struggling over ever yard, just to be by your side, being part of this roller coaster ride.

Love that commits with pride, that will never hide, love that’s knowing, seed sowing so it goes stronger, lasts longer chained to lovers under the covers, blossoming fruit, made to suit. Never looting, always routing, sometimes disputing, but never abusing.

Love like tomorrow, a love never borrowed, hollowed, mellowed. A love that is fierce intense makes sense. Love that makes no difference what you drive or rent, whether you borrow or how much you lent. Love that lets you be heard, to venture, to be angry and spent. Love that holds its arms out, pulls you away, knows what to say with no delay. A love for every day and every way; a love that’s implied without having to say. Love that is here to stay

Jul 15, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds army, Blog, bomb, death, flash fiction, lost, Poetry

Descimated

Shape shifters flitting in the shadows, alleyway to doorway they stalk their prey, anyone who after curfew strays. Dogs bark in the fog of destruction, wasted planet of dis function, disfigured mammals roam the streets, looting what’s left to eat.

Black cars roll up and down the street; counting the numbers of people in retreat, the mas unprovisioned stampede to nowhere just a place in time, that didn’t heed the warning signs. Vapor spurts from disused silos, the kind of place where no one goes, what went on there, only a few know, we just remember the blinding glow.

Children piled two deep in the street as what is left of their mothers weep, while shape shifters creep taking bodies on the cheap, People of gods pray in the street to have mercy on the crops and wheat. radio signals crackle to life, some have made it and kept their lives, no music to stream just recalled screams of a world on its knees.

Streets of deserted homes, fires still burn at the edge of the street, no water for the flames to meet, just an unsettling intense heat. More metal falls from the sky mushroom clouds, flashes burning the eye. in the distance, a baby cries its last tears, it probably won’t make it out of here. Men in masks arrive to burn those are not alive. Riding the streets an epidemic risk the actions are brutal and very swift.

It’s time to leave this forsaken place and take my chances in a land of waste. Hiding by day and scouting by night, making use of anything that I find, using whatever comes to mind, constantly watching for signs of life, or attacks from behind. no one is kind, they are all for themselves, smashing windows and looting shelves, lawless and powerless the rule of mob. No home, no food, no job; just trying to survive, to thrive in this wasteland barely alive.

Jul 13, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, flash fiction, lost, love, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

Life Machine

I know you are there, all I can do is stare at the inside of my mind. I’m still alive, to tell you I strive, but, I can’t make you see I’m still alive. No movement I make, you hope I awake, laying here is not the person you know, I look like a fake. Tears in your eyes as you start to cry fearing that I have died. I feel you squeeze my hand, I want to squeeze back but I’m paralysed, trying to find a way back.

This wretched machine keeps humming, keeping this piece of debris running, wires and tubes from my body protrude, my life support, my food. I’ve seen the light, the tunnel of flight, but I have fought to stay here with all my might. I want to tell you I’m alright, that I will continue the fight until I can be with you again tucked up in the moon light.

I still see the day and know everything you say and do, I’m watching everyone and every move, I know how you feel, how the kids are, I even know you banged the car. I wish I could open my eyes and see where you are.

Days of rolling around in my own brain, powerful drugs that kill the pain, its driving me insane. In my mind, I wrote a poem for you, I hope one day I will be able to read it aloud too. I see you are weary, you need sleep too, come lay with me until the day is new.

Jul 11, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, doubt, flash fiction, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

I am Detective

I am detective, some say defective, I will find your story, however gory, I read your mind and always you I will find. Tricks of the trade, hiding in the shade, covering your tracks, never going back. I will find you and your crime, come and get you through all the grime.

I am detective, new perspective, attention to detail, hot on your trail. I know nor care what or where, I will find you and the evidence there. Tell your lies, wear your disguise, I won’t compromise, I know it’s you I can see it in your eyes.

I am detective, the last one alive, I am coming after you, nowhere to hide. Rain or shine it makes no difference, there is no barrier no hindrance, for I am detective one of a kind, scruffy rain coat, brilliant mind. Your soul I will find, all day I grind to make a living, to catch you in the land of the living. I will not stop until off this planet I pop, and when I retire I will be reflective for I am detective.

Jul 11, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, flash fiction, love, old car, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

Steamy Windows

Steamy windows from warm breath, panting and sighing until you scream, rivers of passion fogging the screen. Lovers indulging, gripped by the moment, steamy windows, no one can see but they all know what you’re up to and smile with glee.

Passions flaring, glowing bright aura of love penetrates the night, cold moist air meets hot blooded flair, lovers unite without a care. Hot bodies with sweat drenched hair, in a steamy car in the middle of nowhere. State of undress, hot caress, no duress, wanting to impress.

Two lovers blowing a hot gale, until excitement prevails and one of them wails. Steamy windows, dripping fire from back seat desire in little attire.

Jul 9, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, doubt, flash fiction, lost, Mental Health, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

Missing

You are missing, gone from sight, we are all worried about your plight, no trace of you, just simply disappeared, no note no reason why you are not here. Did you take flight and leave for a reason, did you think we would see it as treason? We’re you taken and driven away one day, where is the ransom note? you never took your coat. Are you wandering as a lost soul, are you in bits or is your mind whole? We have looked and appealed on TV for you to come home and live happily, but, to no avail, no happy ending to this tragic tale. Are you alive or living in a dive.

Maybe you left the country and are living pretty comfy? Maybe you are dead that’s what many have said, but I have put that thought at the back of my head, I don’t want to deal with that dread.

Did you choose to go? maybe you have plans I don’t know, maybe, you are just going with the flow somewhere that you don’t know. Days tick by very slow, weeks and months come and go, yet we still live in hope that someday you will show. I hope you turn up before we both go, it would be tragic if we didn’t know.

We hear of sightings all the time, we think we get near and you will be fine, but it turns out not to be you, just someone like the picture they drew. Alone at night in our bed we run through all the scenarios in our heads trying to work out where you might be, and why on that day you weren’t home for tea. Then comes the call we wanted to hear, yet the one we had come to fear. Your voice we wanted to hear for just over a year. The tone on the phone is not yours, it says they found you then there’s a pause. The next voice we hear is yours.

Jul 9, 2017 Markey Mark Symmonds Blog, Blogger, flash fiction, poem, Poetry, short story, Uncategorized

Meteor

Bright light, explosive energy, flying heat across night sky, meteor on a race to nowhere, way up high. Millions of miles from the earth, powerful atoms at your birth. Spinning and rolling through the galaxy, streak of light in celestial flight.

Mighty energy with no destination travelling through our constellation, reaching for the dark matter of deep contemplation. Waiting for the crash into a planet triggering catastrophe on fragile life. Broken fragment, burning out and adding to the debris in the vastness of space. No pace, just floating junk in space, along with waste from the space race. Burning orb, your energy absorbed, spectacle of fire, look up and admire.

Funeral pyre, life denier, crater creator, predator of the sky, no real purpose as you prowl the night sky, looking for somewhere to lie, some where you can extinguish and die, to rest for millions of years in a place in the sky, final resting place away from prying eyes. the rest of your days spent in an ash haze until you are discovered and once again amaze.