Showing posts with label onestop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label onestop. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

The Amusingly Shameful Walk Home

Oh how I wish this wasn't based on experience =)  Although as part of my New Year health kick I've vowed to drink less and exercise more.  Both are doing very well... although I note it's only January 11th!  However nothing really beats being able to walk home with a bit more grace and sophistication than usual so I'm hoping to keep this one going.  Have written the following to remind myself that this is a very good thing.  Anyway, I hope your resolutions are going well too - what did you resolve for 2011, if anything??
CJ x
Jack the Ripper's playground... It's not finish.
In the dead of night.
The clacker of the cobbles
Against my stiletto heels,
Shatters the silence,
Filling it with echoes,
Like a ghostly horse's tap dance.

Bubbles tickle my cold nose,
As a tipsy hiccup surfaces,
With the grace of a drunken goat,
I stumble with a scrape,
Catching my tumble,
Before it has the chance to happen.

Creeping smile spreads out,
Across my rosy, amused cheeks,
At the hilarity of it all,
Unthinkable unbalancing,
And a swagger like a thug,
Wearing challenging skyscraper shoes.

Unbearable hunger surfaces,
Like a demon with unstoppable venom,
Fixed focus now on a single goal,
And not one for the diet,
As I change the route,
And head off towards the Saturday sin-cabin...

Fried stuff.

Fail.


Sunday, 2 January 2011

A Pop Star Trip to the Beach

This poem was inspired the photo prompt at One Shoot Sunday - photo by Danielle Kelly.



Trip to the beach.
Promenade.
Another opportunity.
For my publicist.
To shine.

Swathed in taffeta.
Itchy and raw.
Float down boardwalks.
Pretending the world.
Looks only to me.

Achingly hot.
Skin dripping in sweat.
But heads turn.
And pride swells.
Within my soul.

Feather corset.
Tickles my neck.
Unbearably so.
The urge to scratch.
Almost too much.

False smile.
Must look at ease.
Lace veil clouds vision.
Not a care in the world.
Even if I can barely see.

False fun in my eyes.
This is how I roll.
Lusting for sweatpants.
But no one can know.
My inner desires.

The things I must do.
That people enjoy.
Bemuse and amuse.
Yet make me rich.
So no complaints here.