Random Santa Banta

Written for Colchester WriteNight Birthday/Christmas pop up shop evening, Monday 21st December 2015, under the strapline ‘Rules, never heard of them’…….

Some Rather Random Santa Banta

Christmas comes but once a year 

and don’t we bloody know it

It kicks off in October now

an earthquake couldn't slow it

All the shops are sparkly

with their christmas wares on sale

It’s Christmas this and Christmas that

buy this jumper, buy that hat

(Come Christmas eve we’ve had enough

of buying all this bloody stuff)

Santa rides his sleigh at night

his coat all red his beard all white

above the rooftops he will fly

he must have seen some sights

All those stockings on display

all those sparkly balls

I bet his wife is for it

when he gets home from his calls

By night the vampire stalks his prey

and in his coffin sleeps all day

He’ll miss the Christmas rush that way

He’s got his priorities right!

I wonder if he’s ever seen

Santa on his rounds at night

I wonder if he’s ever thought

I’ll give that fat old git a bite

Peace on earth and goodwill to men

(and to women too)

That’s not the vampires way you know

rich or poor, black or white

he’ll feast on your blood any night

And now I come to think of it

have you ever seen

Santa in the same room as

the vampire King, or Queen?

I wonder if, one Christmas eve,

a thousand years ago

Old Santa got more

than he bargained for

under the mistletoe 

when

All puckered up and ready

for a big wet Christmas kiss

this particular household had

their own idea of bliss

And now on every Christmas eve

he roams the skies at night

Invited into every house

within his spectral sight

Underneath his big white beard

his fangs are ready for a bite

his deep red coat

will hide the sight

of any blood he takes tonight

It really doesn’t matter

if you’ve been bad or good

this fat old nosferatu

will take you where you’re stood

So block up all your chimneys

stay hidden out of sight

and pray to any god you choose

that you will last the night

Come christmas morning if you wake

Jump for joy and celebrate

have a feast fit for a King

all the Christmas carols sing

(make each and every moment last

this Christmas just might be your last)

To one and all my tale is done

I wish you all good cheer

A very merry Christmas

and

a vampire free new year….. 

November Haiku

Coarse grass and weeds

In the field where the poppies were.

Still beautiful

This Just In

Meanwhile in more local news, from the East Grinstead Echo....

A lifetimes repressed anger boiled over in the local supermarket today when octogenarian and recent UKIP convert, Rita 'Randy' Ransom tutted loudly at a foreign vegetable and shuffled off in a huff, muttering 'Bring back Buy British' under her breath.

The supermarket's recently appointed Non gender specific or race or age implied everyone's equal and we don't want to offend anyone spokesperson (no offence to animals) Dave English said they were 'Very disappointed with Rita, and that this sort of thing was happening more frequently'.

They have invited Rita and her wheelie shopping basket to attend one of their 'All vegetables are the same colour under the soil' presentations, where there will be free Fairtrade tea and sugar, and gluten and milk free biscuits (from their popular BLAND range).

Store employee of the week, and last month's runner up in the most frequently requested vegetable handler category, Caroline Carbuncle, would like to inform shoppers that the Californian Kumquats are particularly moist this week and to wish everyone a nice day.

Allegedly

Another game of flash cricket with the Colchester WriteNight crew, this time as part of the Lightbulb Festival. I'll leave you to decide what words were part of the challenge, but I included them all! Just a bit of fun folks hope you enjoy it too. I did.

As a consequence of recharging her stranded love pot-hole too vigorously, local cyclist Emma found herself in the hospiteel.

After an incident a few days before in a taxi when her escort for the evening pulled her private cakes too hard, thus forcing her parachute open and resulting in a noisy exchange of recipes, Emma was feeling decidedly shaky.

Allegedly.

A Game of Flash Cricket

At Colchester Write Night on Monday 22nd June 2015. We played a game of 'flash cricket'. Choose twenty words between us randomly then write for twenty minutes or so attempting to include all the words. Here's my contribution and the words we chose. Because I know you like it.


Her Pieces Laugh Winter Cynical Devouring Character Inspiration Tradition Innocent False Attitude Situation Consequence Flaw Starving Tortoise Irony Kept Turned


Cain was unable to find inspiration no matter how hard he tried. Admittedly he wasn't trying very hard, but that was neither here nor there, He was starting to feel there was a flaw in his character. Out of nothing but sheer bloody mindedness he kept going, although he was becoming more cynical with each word he couldn't find. Plus he was starving.
The situation was this; he had to write an article on Winter by the end of the week, for a local publication, the fee for which would pay this months rent. Another default and he would be turned out on the street. He couldn't ask his current girlfriend to bail him out anymore. She was fed up with picking up the pieces of his life and her friends were putting the pressure on to call it a day between them. The general consensus was he had a bad attitude towards work and was too lazy. They felt all his initial promises were false and that she was an innocent party in all of this. He had been devouring her savings at a rapidly increasing rate, the consequence of which was a strained relationship, another in an ongoing tradition of failures and unmet deadlines.
If he carried on like this he would have to pawn his pet tortoise, the thought of which made him laugh for some inexplicable reason. He was unable to see the irony in all of this or maybe there just wasn't any.

Journey

Here's a piece of flash fiction I wrote to read at our last Colchester Write Night gathering on Monday 27th April 2015.  I thought you might like to read it too. I'm kind like that.




Journey

Sometimes (often) my sleeper train of thought takes me on long complicated journeys involving emergency stops and breakdowns. Usually I am lost in a strange place and can't find my way home although I know that I know it. Or rather knew it.

Sometimes it goes on journey's down disused branch lines ending at crumbling platforms thick with weeds and the ruins of old waiting rooms, haunted by the ghosts of long dead station masters and ticket collectors with myself and my own ghosts the only passengers.

Or the tracks run alongside  the sea or a river that floods, rising waves come in and wash me away.

On all these journeys fear is my companion and a state of constant confusion.

Othertimes and less often a short journey of maybe a few stops to somewhere planned. Through the window in the distance the mist clears and rays of sunshine break through.

Always my waking trains of thought take me back to that last goodbye, and all the things I never knew how to say but wanted to.