All entries for April 2010
April 28, 2010
I fear it is far too ambitous to try and write 4000 words of poetry, near enough from scratch, in about 3 weeks. However, it is marvellously self-indulgant and justifies afternoon trips to the pub for 'poetic' inspiration. Alas, my liver disagrees.
April 26, 2010
We shared 204 microwaveable dinners
but never a fish pie,
I’m much thinner now you left me
the best thing about heartbreak
is the loss of appetite,
my waist 4inchs slimmer.
We shared 38 verbal fights
(and 2 with fists)
I don’t condone violence,
let alone that time I threw the iron at you
(but seriously, clothes belong on hangers
not the floor, I told you it was the last straw
if I had to pick up one more lip-stick stained collar
and you’d be out the door).
We shared 2 beds,
a single, which was cosy,
then a double.
The trouble was we didn’t share the covers,
you were always cold,
you were an unaffectionate lover with poor circulation
(if you know what I mean...)
We shared 13 photo frames
smiling half-heartedly on our walls
to fool other couples at pretentious dinner parties
that we were in love.
We shared 251 bottles of red wine
(please note, this was more than microwaveable dinners)
but it was the antidote to the arguments.
I’m doing the drinking for the both of us now.
I’ll even drink rosé, but who knows hey?
Maybe I’ll go t-total somehow.
Prove you wrong.
We shared 23 ice creams,
and 6 holidays,
from the suburban everyday
and then I’d find out you booked
and I was your waiter for the week
because “seafood didn’t sit well with you.”
Then you’d announced in front of honeymoon couples
“go to hell! I’m not paying extra just to eat at a restaurant that just happens to be on the seafront.”
Oh you old romantic you,
taking me across the Atlantic
just to frantically serve you tea and toast
whilst you roasted in the sun,
and boasted that you looked brilliant with a tan
and that I looked like a lobster.
No, seafood really didn’t sit well with you,
but you still managed to give me crabs in Ibiza,
and you confessed over pizza in Rome
that you think we should just stay at home next year.
We shared everything,
1034 days, 9 dark secrets, 212 lies,
just to find, our traits didn’t match.
So I can eat my crayfish
and you can soak up the rays with another floozy.
Now we share nothing,
and I eat prawn sandwiches alone
in what was our home...
And I doubt you ever think of me...
and what we shared,
unless you walk past the chippy.
April 19, 2010
Oh I do apologise dearest cyberspace for the lack of attention I have given you over Easter. It began well, with a very productive week in Warwick library, even using the moving shelves at the risk of my death. I got two essays complete. Marvellous, bravo me.
Then I came home and went into my funny "I'm not leaving my bed, ever" moods. I watched 3 series of Lost on megavideo and spent the remainder of my loan on ebay. It was a sad a lonely two weeks of turning down plans just to wallow in pointless misery. Why do I do that!? But to summarise, I got threats from my bank and only left my bed to frantically try and lose weight on my exercise bike and answer the door to collect my pointless deliveries.
But, then I got sick of living in my own filth and got back on with living which was wonderful. I spent a lovely few days in Liverpool shopping in Quiggins which is this beautiful vintage place and writing some poetry on the train. I was breathing and moving again, but also The Fear wa slowly setting in and I knew I would soon have to return home to revise.
Thus, today I am back to working (and writing)... I will post some more stuff up soon. It's been too long!