Samantha Beardon's Blog, page 41

Tidal Wave

Touch

               Zing

tidal wave

Ride 

                         Atop 

breathless, crave

Swept away

                        Into 

the  Sky 

Feet Never

                     Touch

the ground

Touch

              Zing

Tidal Wave

Meld

           Contract

still amazed.

                  

The dit dah of life

The dit dah, dit dah 

of his life,

Morse​ code,

 Flashing lamp,

 Programming 

breaking 

                 lines

The patterns of disordered

 Strife.

Hand held out,

Grasping,

Momentary gratification,

Plucked fruit

spoilt

            by handling

He acts without doubt.

The boom, boom of life,

Ego bursting, high octane

            chase,

He teeters,

   Understanding

        self

            gratification,

Halflife.

Does he see her worth,

Or as a notch

                in the belt ,

Should he climb 

the ladder,

To reach a

                higher shelf,

Reimburse.

Is it her, this bright spark,

Is she the one

                 to tame,

Or will  she be the one

                    to cast her spell?

Hunter

    hunted

Left in the dark.

The dit dah, dit dah 

of  his  life,

Morse​ code,

 Flashing lamp,

 programming 

breaking 

                 lines,

The patterns of disordered

Strife.

Will illumination strike,

Or will he,

Stumble

      sexily 

          sated

Oblivious to love

In the shallow pool

Of apeptite.

The lure

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Flash Fiction. African Safari

I wake up to the bright light of morning, listening to the sounds of the insects as the alarm on my phone resonates with the barking guffaw of the zebra (I changed it to enhance the mood). Light is flooding through the walls of the tent. As I stretch and wiggle, luxuriating in the comfort of the bed, I am struck by the contrast of this tent cum up market villa, full of modern conveniences with the rugged unspoilt bush just feet away. Africa, I am in Africa. In a haven in the wilderness.  I sniff the air, it smells warm, dusty with a faint undefinable odour maybe of the red earth itself. The scritch of crickets fills the air, their sound overlaid by the rich song of the birds in the nearby trees. I can hear the muted chink of pans and crockery; the chef must be in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

 The amount of insect and bird life filling the air is amazing. Such a cacophony, it is almost overwhelming as I try to distinguish individual voices. This noise is incredible even without the voices of the large animals, who have gone quiet. Last night there was such a variety of noises permeating the tent, cracks and swishing from a browsing herd of elephants, alarm calls from buck and zebra and the cackle of the hyena sending a chill down my spine. Loved every second. I presume the animals both predator and prey are trying to stay invisible in the brightness if the day.

There is too much to do to stay in bed, so I make a move. The wind gusts and the door of the tent blows open, I walk over to close it, standing for a moment; a flicker of movement catches my eye. I register an impala racing past followed by a cheetah. The kill happens around 7 metres from the door of the tent. Quick and clean. Life begetting life. Awesome moment.  The cheetah turns its head towards me, (it feels an acknowledgement of my presence) then drags the impala into the bush. Wow!! What a start to the day. 

My blood is singing through my veins, my heart thumping that sight has been a pure adrenaline rush. I am privileged to see the power of nature in action.

Indoor or outdoor shower? No contest I must go with the full experience, so it must be the outside bush shower. I walk out onto the deck past the plunge pool, draping a towel around my nakedness. This clever arrangement is like the old, less salubrious camping days and much more to my taste. A canvas screen set up, with a wooden tripod sporting a large plastic bladder filled with water. The floor has a wooden grating to keep the feet clean. I leave my stubble in place and just soap my body then pull the string so that water from the bladder cascades over me, rinsing off the soap and energising my mind. Humming under my breath I shake myself like a dog and stand eyes closed basking for a moment in the heat of the sun. I reach for the towel and walk back to the tent drying myself in total harmony with this world. 

Today I have a scheduled game drive to acclimatise myself to the heat and rhythms of African  life, so different from my typical day. I am at peace relaxed and ready for any surprises that the day will bring. Tomorrow will be more testing, a trek into the wilderness with wild camping and two guides I am bursting with excitement today is the appetiser before the main meal begins. 

Flying High

We are the makers of our fantasies

Flying high, bandits at Ten o Clock

Bullets ripping into the fuselage 

tearing, burning causing 

Sensations to build , magnify

Words and pictures travelling through the ether

 

Leading us towards  wildness – this

aerial ballet ,as we jockey for position

Who will lead, who will follow, who 

will land the killing blow?

Lines drawn opposing teams

Victor – versus –  Vanquished

 

Pain

Suffused

Ecstasy

Fanning the flames of heaven or

hell

Gnawing

Grinding 

Glorification

Where is the truce?

 

 

Bleeding from myriad wounds

I fly ,still demonstrating strength

and sensuality 

My fuselage shot to pieces

I leap into the void

Have you the strength to hold me

 

Dangling

On the 

Precipice

Will we tumble together

in unison

Shafted

Saturated

Sated

Hold the Connection –

 

 

We are the makers of our fantasies

Flying high, bandits at Ten o Clock

Bullets ripping into the fuselage 

Tearing, burning causing sensations

to build , magnify

Words and pictures travelling through the ether

 

Love

Lust

Love

 

 

 

Flash Fiction. Meet on a plane

Rick.

I watch the people pushing down the aisle of the plane, hand baggage held like shields. A constant stream pushing and shoving trying to pack oversized bags into lockers. I notice the guy waiting to get to his seat, he’s tall and seems to be very helpful, stowing bags for the people around him. He has a pretty blonde in front I wonder if that’s his lady, she’s delicious. They are moving closer. I am in an aisle seat with two empty seats next to me. Sitting near that lady will enliven my flight. Damn she stows her bag in a locker, two rows in front of me and wriggles into a seat. Hah that’s my entertainment out of the window. The man continues towards me and stops by the row; he removes a book and a bottle of water from his bag and then rearranges bags to make room for his within the locker. He looks familiar but I can’t think why.

“Hi, I have the window seat,” he says. 

“Hi ok, I will move to let you in, bloody small spaces thank heavens it’s not a long flight.”

I stand up and shuffle aside, we are of a height and come eye to eye as we manoeuvre round each other. 

He says, ” Oh my god, aren’t you Rick Anson?”

I look at him still at a loss. ‘Familiar but I can’t place you mate.’

“Right, yes, I am. Sorry, you seem familiar but I can’t think. In what context might I have met you?”

He moves, busies himself removing headphones pillows and blankets from the seat then settles down with a grunt. 

As I move to sit back down he says, “Bonza thought it was you. We have only met once. We both barracked for team Chrissie I am her husband. Jake.” He holds out his hand I shake it whilst thinking ‘Oh he wants to be friendly.’

Oh, great I will now spend the next two hours with the husband of my ex, what a pain. I have no interest in what is happening in her life. I hope he will not rabbit about her or their life. Of all the joints in all the plane why did fate send him to mine?’

“Morning Jake small world.” 

Whilst I am well over Chrissie, I don’t want to appear a loser in his eyes or have him superior because he has the woman. He might feel that way – because he’s fa bloody dickhead – barracking the same team! Jeez! A tad crass. I  prefer not to talk at all but I suppose we have started a dialogue. I need to keep it off Chrissie and either relationship. 

The stewardess comes down the aisle with a tray of champagne or Bucks Fizz, I don’t drink either but in the circumstances.  I need all the help I can get! So, I accept a glass of champagne and knock it back in two swallows. Jake is busy getting his headphones set up that looks promising, I heave a sigh of relief. 

He stays silent through take-off and when I glance across at him his eyes are closed and his hands white knuckled … hah he doesn’t like flying. I smile point to me! 

As the seat belt signs extinguish Jake sits forward and takes a swig of water from his bottle.

He turns ” Phew I bloody hate take offs and landings, it’s made worse with Chrissie she’s a gibbering wreck. I bet she drove you loopy flying.”

“We never flew together.”

“Oh, I see.”

I need to divert him from his Chrissie chitchat, I intend to work so I get my laptop out of my bag.

“I need to work but before we settle, did you watch the State of Origin game?”

“I did. Cool game. It didn’t disappoint. That fight between Myles and Gallens turned the game into a sparring match.”

“Yup what did you think of the referee’s performance?”

“Oh, mate wasn’t he crap….”

I smile diversion accomplished!

Jake.

I am shit scared of flying. It’s not rational but I am a nervous wreck. I have been trying to keep my mind occupied but now here I am in this metal tube full of jostling people.

Aw coomeon move. Move it, I need to get sat down.

“Here let me take that for you madam I will put it in the locker.”

The woman smiles at me she thinks I am being a gentleman I want her. Out of the Way. 

The woman in front of me , blonde and wearing a skimpy top would have aroused me in other circumstances. Now I am willing her, to get the hell out of my way. 

She turns into a row two before mine. There is a guy sitting in the aisle seat, I will have to get him to shift.

I say, “Hi I have the window seat.”

“Hi ok, I will move to let you in, bloody small spaces thank heavens it’s a short flight.”

He stands up and as he unfolds from the row, we land up eye to eye. Oh, bloody hell I am sure it’s Rick Anson my wife’s ex. Wow, I never got the full story there, could be interesting. Wonder if I could get him to talk. At least I have Chrissie he couldn’t keep her. Still I will play it cool it’s not important to our relationship. 

“Oh my god, aren’t you Rick Anson?” I blurt out.

Oh, whoops he’s looking at me as if I have grown two heads, shitte. Jake hardly cool!

“Right, yes, I am. Sorry, you seem familiar but I can’t think. In what context might I have met you?”

Seems grumpy that I recognise him, now I wish I had kept my trap shut. 

I take my laptop and a bottle of water and drop onto the empty seat, stash my bag into the locker and move into the seat space. I drop into my seat foraging around to sort out my seat belt. My head is spinning.

He sits down and my mouth opens of its own volition and I say, “Bonza thought it was you. We have only met once. We both barracked for team Chrissie I am her husband. Jake.” 

I hold out my hand and he shakes, it.

What am I doing?

He replies, “Morning Jake. Small world.”

I sit back and sort out my space, opening the headphones so I can listen to the movie. The stewardess arrives with a tray of poncey drinks champagne things. I decline but Rick accepts and drains his glass. Hope he will not get fighting drunk.

Take off is on me so I shut my eyes, hands clenched hard together telling myself to breathe, bloody purgatory and I so ,do not ,want. To have a panic attack.

I keep my eyes closed breathing steadily, my mouth is dry my heart pounding, and although the air is cold, there are beads of moisture running down my neck. When the tannoy pings I open my eyes,  the seat belt sign is off. I straighten and open my eyes to check around me, Rick is looking up the plane, so I am sure he hasn’t noticed my behaviour. Just to emphasise how fine I am, I take a swig from my bottle of water and then turn to talk to Rick.

” Phew I bloody hate take offs and landings, it’s made worse with Chrissie. She’s a gibbering wreck. I bet she drove you loopy flying.”

“We never flew together.”

“Oh, I see.”

Rick takes a bag from under the seat and takes out a laptop.

He says, “I need to work but before we settle, did you watch the State of Origin game?”

“I did. It didn’t disappoint that fight between Myles and Gallens turned the game into a sparring match.”

“Yup what did you think of the referee’s performance?”

“Oh, mate wasn’t he crap….”

Samantha Beardon.

The word of power

I challenge you, a deal to win

Ignite me, light a spark within

Hold me close, liberate the waves

 Energy, jumping set ablaze

I challege you to spin my dreams

Educate me, help me to  ply my schemes

Join me , help me in my wonder

Send me to the heights, sate my hunger

Liberate and Join  with me

Ignite me,light a spark 

Then set me free.

The vagaries of health information

I hear the news,

 I read the papers

The rules to good health

give me the vapours

Today red wine is good for the heart

Yesterday it was a poisoned dart

Fruit is in and then it’s out

Smoothies are good then

 there is doubt

So I try and try 

to follow the rules

Though I begin to think they 

are written by fools

I give up wine and drink more water

Eat healthy food, pass junk more

 than I oughta

I eat less meat and eat more beans

You can hear me coming 

if you know what I mean

Butters in then it’s out

My poor sober brain begins to doubt

I eat healthy food, I hardly drink

I exercise to reduce

 my bingo wings

It’s all so pointless I feel sad

When healthy living should 

make me glad

I drink more wine, I reduce the water

Read the news want to shoot the reporter

I am on the treadmill what the hell 

Just might just  have a Donut ,as well

I skip the news and censor the paper

I use common sense, maybe a ball breaker

I weigh myself and exercise 

A slim svelte body the ultimate prize

I drink more wine, I dance and sing

Join an exercise class for lots of ping

I weigh myself, I give it up

Throw the scales in the garbage truck.

The detective…a found poem

As he descends the escalator he 

notes, the behaviour

 of the people in front,

The man with the greasy hair

shifting from one foot to the other, 

looking around, shoulders hunched,

Directly behind him, the man in the sharp suit

is typing fast,

onto his Smartphone. 

Both men, and women are running 

down the left side of the stairway, 

past all the static passengers,

he tenses alert for any sign

 of threat,

As he leaves the escalator

he checks the entrances

to both the platforms, automatically,

He moves through onto the platform ,and

is surprised.

By the small number of people

spread along its length,

He savours the space, no need to fight

through a press of bodies 

to get on the train,

He checks the arrivals board,

his train will be in three minutes,

So he moves to the centre 

of the platform, and stands with 

his back to the wall checking

left and right,

To observe the people around him.

Always on duty never able to relax,

Always the detective.

I was challenged to take some lines from a novel and without changing the words to change the firmat to become a found poem. This is my first found poem. 

Aura

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