Hello all. I'm trying something out here. It's an 'internal musing.' I think it's called? Most of my stories so far here have been about nostalgic-look-backs, so I thought who better to ref nostalgia, than an old person? So I wrote a first draft and sent it in pm to a good friend, who's a critic, who ran over it with a wagon, reversed back over it, then ran it over again just to make sure! I must admit on reflection, it w...

One Door Closes. . . I spent the last six months in my failure-of-a-marriage, tying up loose ends. Divesting myself of all that I'd gained in twenty years. We all accumulate things, to keep under the banner of, “what-if ?” We'd had all our hurtful arguments. Each trying to score points off each other like a weird new X-box game. Except as far as I was concerned this was no game I ever wanted to play again. I was played ou...

When I first started using the forums I'd been on another site and someone used a term that's in this piece. When I first wrote it, I did it in Hallmarked poetry. But the words came thick and fast and soon I had too much. So I made it bigger. And bigger. Till eventually you have the story you see here. I've based it on a reporter telling the newbies what it was like "In de old days." It uses the vernacular of every black...

Perilous Socks Do you want me to buy you, girly-girl socks? For if I'm not careful, I'll start to buy frocks. Not that it matters or is of alarm, because guys in dresses don’t do any harm.You might think it weird to see me so dressed, but this is what I do to prevent getting stressed. Its never the garb, the dress or the skirt, the brassiere, the panties or even the shirt, Looking so shabby, without form or sheen, its the...

Journey Underground and The Men of the Mine Grumpy old men on the 4am shift. Would mumble and grumble, till given short shrift. But jokers and jesters and pranksters would then follow, making bitter pills of work, more easier to swallow. We'd cram in the cage like fish in a tin, until they couldn't jam, any more of us in. You’d feel the chocks clunk, away from the keps, hanging in space,and dampening your keks. The bells...

Three uses of the 'F' word Downward looking I faced the floor, I'd really had enough I couldn't take any more. Colour of my skin was "colouring" my life. I decided that day I'd take my life. Not a decision taken lightly, I'd thought on it daily, my life to take, I'll do it for my own sake.(thinks) . . . rope . . . ? Son of dubiously chaste mother. Cast-off from a foreign father.Doomed before I started- outsider looking in...

'Doing' Words Superlatives and adjectives, are words that do describe. A verb-ing word is a doing term, behind which I can hide. Full stops and commas - I infuse, with words to halt or pause. Without such things, I'd soon be seen writing un-verbose? I get so tired of trying to be, thought of inter-est-ing, I use the words upon my page to try to say some-thing. Anything will do, to provoke you, into verbage or admission. W...

The Trees are Weeping The trees are quietly crying today. They weep for the Ashes, or so they say. From Denmark it was sighted, English Counties have been blighted, It's cursed, they said on the news.Their tears are falling to the ground. Waterfalls of leaves, russett and brown. Who cares for them, or even gives a hoot? Why, we do, of course. They're under our boots.Their tears are dropping all over the World. Far away fr...

Steve in the Canteen Steve when he's eating doesn't make a sound, for his teeth are in a bag, on the table or ground. He sucks the filling through his bread and the butter, he makes no sound, except the words that he mutters. “ Mfwmf!" I'll hear him trying to say, as I dodge the bits of sandwich heading my way.I'll tell him some jokes, and when he starts to choke, he'll cough, and then he'll, spray. Then he'll repeat his...

My Old BootsMy 'monkey boots' when I was growing upwere like two of my own best friends. Hardly a day did we spend apart,wherever we'd walk or wend.Two rugged bits of cobbled leatherwith scuffed up toes and laces,with cardboard insidefrom the wear of the slide,on the ice or the gravelly tracesIt's with a sad heartwhen dad gave a startas he saw the state of my boots.He packed me off to townwith two worn half-crownsto buy n...

Scrabble Champ I want to be, a Scrabble Champ, I want to pass the test. But words like 'it,' with 'and' or 'dog,' will never beat the best. Obscurity in wordiary, that seems the way to be, but wugahumf and neuxzily, are double-dutch to me. Although I try, to keep up with, all the high-score-words, I never seem to get beyond, 'dog' or 'cat' or 'bird.' Swearing words and obscene terms, are all the rage it seems. But words o...

Lols to Tits I've noticed that I use the abbreviation 'lol' far too much when chatting online, typing stories, poems or texting. Even though what's being said is hardly funny at all. Sometimes I use it to take the sting out of an amusing or cutting comment that I've made, so the person on the other end doesn't feel slighted or possibly offended in any way. We all use 'lol' every time we type, without actually laughing, an...

Bingo-Lingo “ Come-on-now-ladees-n-gents, one-or-two-more-players-before-we-start. Up-down-side-to-side-corner-to-corner-your-four-corners. Slope-to-the-left, slope-to-the-right. Take-a-seat, rest-your-feet, and-have-a-game-of-Bingo!” Toddlers in tow, holding hands, hours to kill, fairground bound. Beach to splash, gulls will cry, chips on knees, cherry pops. Swing and slide, 'Venture Park, “ingo, Dad,” Bingo calls. Hands...

Bruised Fruit I worked at Westoe Colliery in South Shields for almost twenty years. I was a fully fledged Powerloader, meaning I was on top earnings when this story happened. By mining standards, Westoe was a wet pit. Lots of water down there. But you didn't really worry about it, because the big Mackley Pumps used to draw water out at one million gallons a day, every day, for years and years. So we felt reasonably safe,...

This one is in this format, because if I put it in the line by line way, it would be huge. I did this as an homage to the beach, within walking distance of where I lived, all of my life. Because it's a British Beach, there may be ref's you won't get? If this is so then feel free to ask. Resp,Bri. My Beach The sound of the water gaining and receding, the beach, my beach, beckoning it seems. Stand at the shoreside watching...