Remember when you didn’t know about
Death…..
Every day was an adventure
Highlights…
Your Toys….
Ice-cream…
A walk through the fields
Like a trip into the unknown
Just two miles….
Will you get home before its dark?
Dirty knees…
Sole flapping on your shoe….
No resupply…
Till Mams sausage and mash…
Sunday night…..
Bloody bath-night…
Nick your chin…
Dads razor….
Torch on under the sheets
‘JAP KILLER’ in the Commando
Torch flickers…..
I will dig a tunnel
Escape Stalag 17
Lights out….
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ……
© Tony McNally
A graveyard of dead trees
Fallen leaves of vast red and orange seas
Squirrels scurry before winter strikes
As children play while others pass on bikes
A harmony of the trees an the wind come together and sing
As a bird chirps then stops to clean it's wing
Children shrieking and screaming as they play
Angry armies of cars roar past, then fly away
Memories start of when I was a kid
Only broken away by time an what it did
Sitting still only in question
Of who I am and to what is my impression
I laughed . . . I played here
I was happy unknown of fear
But then reality again breaks memory's connection
Only to be lost again, still unknown of my reflection
It's ice fishing season again.
I'm in the mood for sushi.
All the fish are still tasty but I want something different. I can't even remember all the names of them I have in the bucket.
I'm a carnivore. Who the fuck am I kidding. Maybe one day I'll find a great vegan restaurant. Maybe I'll start liking different vegetables.
Maybe I'll still think of Noah with every step.
You do the same thing with all them guys
You mess and play with their minds
But you won’t do the same thing with me
Because I’ll treat you differently
I can make you bounce like a bunny
But first you gotta suck all my honey
If you really want that money.
Your price I can easily pay
Your pretty cheap
I know you wanna play
And like nobody else I can go really deep.
On the backseat of my car
In the park
You're an experienced porn star
And like the dog you are I'll make you scream and bark.
As children
on the beach
gathering shells for our
many collections.
copyright heather burns