It would be nice
With only word
If we could stop
The plain absurd
But that time
Has come and gone
The world has turned
And what we’re on
Is a mission
We mustn’t hide
Admit some truths
That live inside
Ourselves…
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
It seems the truth… (poetry)
It seems the truth, Is hard to bare
Quick to defend, To say not fair
But take a moment, You’re not on trial
Just hold back, That self denial
And really think, Of where you are
No longer normal, But plain bizarre
Not quite sure, Of how to to feel
What’s right and wrong
And what is real
Almost as if it was planned that way…
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
Different Futures…
Another excerpt from my now published Meeting in the Middle of Nowhere…
Before we knew of Aphanstasia we decided to move to Spain. It was a leap of faith, we hadn’t been married long and tried to think of the best way to use our resources to have a good life. We discussed everything and we moved. It was hard and there was a lot to organise and sort out, but because he functioned great in the moment, it seemed a breeze really.
Only a small hiccup of a drunk taxi driver at the last hurdle trying to get to the airport to leave. But another one saved the day and we got there. The drama that unfolded when we were there though couldn’t have been anticipated and was caused mainly by a long list of shoddy agents and bad neighbours. We didn’t really have a chance to settle down and find our feet to plan anything. Instead going from one idea to another and having to change it every other week because of what we had found out, or how we had been treated. It was extremely frustrating. And it was in these frustrating times that we stumbled across this major difference in our thought process. He wasn’t planning ahead at all, he had no concept of our future in Spain and never had. That kind of explained why he always seemed to have objections to things, he speaks his mind at the time, there’s no saving it for later. It can make him seem quite outspoken, but it really isn’t on purpose I now know.
I have to be honest though, when I realised I was on my own with planning our future, it sealed the deal for me. I was already struggling and had thought I wanted to come home, I just didn’t want to ruin it for him. But deep down I must have known we weren’t going to be staying in Spain. I was grossly under prepared going there anyway (I can’t even speak the language), and knew this was the right thing to do.
I couldn’t do it for us both not on home soil. I had spent over thirty years working out how to function in this society, it sounds awful to say, but I actually felt too old to go through it all again. I needed the support of familiarity – not people, or friends as they are thin on the ground, but where I recognised. I realised that was my reference point, my safety zone. I felt like a duck out of water and wanted to correct it as soon as possible. I don’t often live with my mistakes once I have acknowledged them.
(c) K Wicks (Photography taken in Spain)
We’ve really gone… (poetry)
We’ve really gone, So very wrong
Something’s up, For far too long
We closed our eyes, And no-one spoke
But in the minds, We’re all so woke
And watching now, The world descend
Down the drain, While we pretend
Someone cares, That we elect
There for money, Not to protect
Just simply being, A guise to lead
While taken by, That thing called greed
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
I’m not quite sure… (poetry)
I’m not quite sure
We’ve got in hand
Or really maybe
Understand
The state of things
Of where we are
Of how it managed
To go this far
The time before
Could never last
The way it was
Is now but past
Keep up, the world is changing…
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
Dust in the Wind — Fictionspawn Monsters
He got into a hotel. ran up the stairs. He fought his way past screaming guests and staff, climbed the fence to get further. The dust got thicker. People more scarce. A piccolo coughing in a corner. A cleaner crying, praying. He covered his mouth with his shirt, his lungs could hardly breath. Some shadows running by, screaming, coughing. Falling bricks and blocks crushing their way towards the ground. Somewhere above daylight pierced through the concrete fog surrounding him. Above him floated a monster, a ghostlike female of destruction. She stared into nothing, beyond it all, as if she was longing, searching for something that wasn’t there.
It can be tough… (poetry)
It can be tough, Just getting through
When thoughts are dark, And feel so true
What’s in mind, It can conspire
Against new thought, That could rewire
The way you cope, Or your perspective
Maybe plan, A new objective
But if you feel, A loss of hope
And can’t rewire, The way you cope
Find a friend, And please do say
I need some help, Along the way
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
At first it seemed… (poetry)
At first it seemed
All right and good
But soon revealed
To be Stepford
A smile, a wave
A ‘friendly’ stare
And every day
They seem just there
You try and run
But see they’ve followed
And in that town
Your soul was swallowed
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
It’s something that… (poetry)
It’s something that
We can’t escape
Knowing they set
And they did shape
What we see now
Before our eyes
A dastardly plan
So riddled with lies
A plot was hatched
And what they stole
Was more than just
Complete control
But maybe one day
We all will see
The truth at last
Reality
(c) K Wicks
Rhyme and Reason
Nobody likes a mouldy turnover…
This incident happened months ago now and I very briefly mentioned it in my piece the day after it happened in ‘Death of the High Street‘. I have had a number of disappointing experiences in the local shops, but this is the one that sealed the deal for me. I guess I had decided to overlook the lack of professionalism, customer service and standards, as this is now the norm. But I draw the line at being served mouldy food. That’s where they made it feel personal and made me think ‘why should I give you my money?’.
So, the context for this is as follows. I went to the local bakery to purchase a cherry turnover, I have had them a few times before and other than a lack of adequate filling, I had no complaints. However, on this occasion, the shop assistant went to the tray slightly to my right and out of eye line and selected my turnover, personally put it in a paper bag and took my money. It was not until about two hours later that I went to eat my pastry treat, I took it out of the bag and put it on the plate, instantly seeing there was an issue. I mean, who would be happy with seeing that green powdery tinge on your apparently freshly baked produce…
So, I took some pictures and found the contact details online and immediately contacted the owner of the bakery. I’ve worked in two bakeries in my time and have to say have never seen mould that far gone on ‘fresh’ food. To me there are many points of failure to have reached that stage. How did it get so moudly so quickly? From the storage area onto the shelf without being noticed? How did it make it from the shelf into the bag of a customer without being noticed? Either way I wasn’t prepared to eat there again. I did get a seemingly sincere apologetic email back from the owner, telling me that apparently they were baked the day before with a 4 day best before, but held their hands up and said this does not seem to be the case. Although offered a voucher for £10 at the bakery, I didn’t take it or reply. I was just glad they acknowledged the very serious issue and how someone along the line isn’t doing their job properly. Whether they actually care or notice they have lost a local customer for life I don’t know. There is so much passing trade these days, people can afford to lose a few it seems.
On the positive side, it as made me brave enough to attempt to cook my own as I no longer trust the standards of people trying to make money from me. And I really like turnovers. I have made apple and apple and raspberry so far, and have to say they taste better than any shop bought ones! (although still using shop bought pasty as puff pastry is still a bit beyond my capabilities and time available for baking).
(c) K Wicks
