Shaken to the core of the problem No one's fault really Just fate with heavy doses of self absorbed alcohol fuelled swipes at the doorman Plates move flying across the room like unidentified fucking idiots taking us by no surprise till the foundations rock Waves of regret high and strong enough to wipe the tears away then bring them crashing back to uproot all that we hold dear Everyone else's fault actually. © Ash Cheyne 26 August 2018
She had never sat with me
head in hands like that
before a tear formed in the corner
of the eye,convinced
it was her time to die.
Hands played wrong note
after out of tune confession
in the grand old room where we would spend
most of the Christmas holidays
all of us
stuffed with every indulgence
and a need for a long walk in the snow
with the old man striding ahead
as if he would out live us all.
Little did we know that seasons come and go
and she’ll make it through another winter
to teach us that Spring gives us all hope
Would be good to be little again
with nothing to get wrong
to say sorry for
and even if we did
no one would hear us
until the new year
when the strangers came
stinking of whisky
laughing at anything,
© Ash Cheyne 20 August 2018
Tired looking man on the bus
with an overdue suit and worn out shirt
and a look on his face that could kill
his boss if he told him one more time
that there are deadlines to be met
and to swallow his pride.
Two girls, mother and daughter I’d say
laughing and smiling at two little ones
sharing a scooter and the fear of falling
in love with the idea that
they can go faster than the bus
the packed, hot, sweaty, steamy bus
full of people like their parents
Daily Word Prompt – Swallow
Ash Cheyne © 2018
One way or another
I’m gonna get ya, get ya, get ya
to the city that never smiles
big yellow taxis
arguements at tribeca and
crashing at the Pennsylvania
across from the Garden.
Think of blowing my mind
as we walk and walk
vodka and pink lemonade in hand
across from Brooklyn
to the Towers that vanished
from the eye line.
She buys me a cool tee shirt
in return for a couple of beers
in the Village of lost souls.
Take a boat ride in the park
staring at the outside of the Dakota with a tear
hearing her say I’m not enough for her
I laugh a little, cry
at the dead body on the sidewalk
and think of home
which you don’t get anywhere else.
© Ash Cheyne 2017
Daily Word Prompt – One Way.
If something needs to be done with great care and caution, such as holding a new born baby or descending a creaky stair or being President of the United States of America, one should apparently do it gingerly.
If you have gazillions to invest( hide from the tax person) offshore or an up and coming actress to harrass or loads of really dangerous weapons to organise for a killing spree, then gingerly is the way.
If you’re Scottish and gay however and have been convicted of something related to that lifestyle choice, then don’t hang about, as the Scottish parliament are sorry and are prepared to issue a pardon. Yee hah.
If you’re a young band and you want to bridge the gap between technology and artefact, then record your demo on a cassette tape as they are making a steam rolling come back. If you don’t know what a cassette tape is, google it on your Gen Y device.
And – if you are the new Prime Minister of New Zealand and your about to hold a conference call with the aforementioned POTUS, then shut the cat flap if you don’t want Paddles to meoww very loudly at the great orange one. Paddles wasn’t ginger and has sadly passed on but what a way to go.
Upstaged only by Jacinda ( aforementioned PM of NZ) being gingerly refused a takeaway order at a local Indian on the grounds it was a crank call. I’ll bet Ed Sheeran gets that all the time.
© Ash Cheyne 2017
Daily Word Challenge – Gingerly
She was no chicken
although he always let her come first
good egg that he was
Holding her arm as they tread lightly between us
guilty with their dirty little secret
unable to keep the witches at bay
despite bashing a few heads
One strong swimmer and an unsuspecting arrangement
a wedding breakfast well after the morning
of broken promises and gamekeepers getting poached
scrambling for the truth
© Ash Cheyne 2017
Daily Word Prompt – Egg