It’s A Bit Nippy

http://www.mystudentstyle.co.uk/bit-nippy-wonderful-life-comp/#comments

I’ve entered this competition…… PLEASE Click on link and give it a look!!!  It’s a short story and it’s judged on how many people click on it!

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Yellow Pearl

I was the grain of sand that got stuck,
you had no choice but to wrap me.
You coated me in enamel,
made me big and round.
You couldn’t make me into a necklace,
I stuck out.
“Off-Colour!”
You rolled me in white talcum powder,
it came off.
I’m a sunshine pearl,
an I roll my way.

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Car Trip

Moet’s Poppy field to Munch’s Scream,
Beethoven’s Symphony to Drowning Pool
Let the Body’s Hit the Floor,
but to the ceiling you fly.
I can’t jump that high.
Slap or stroke?
I can’t tell.

The sandwich you made me,
is filled with salad.
You say I’m fat,
you say I’m pretty, but
you were slimmer.
There’s salad dressing on my cheek.
You laugh
an wipe a tissue across my face
It oozes with guilt.
‘Watch the Road!!!’ I yell.
You say I’m selfish.
I say,
I can’t take anymore.
You cry,
you can’t live without me.

‘Pull over!” you do.
I turn to talk,
Your eyes  wide and manic.
It’s a bumpy road,
but now we’re driving on ice now.
I get out.
Stomach lurching,
I slam the door.
You drive off.
Fast.

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The Hands of Time are Cruel

I am an old man of ninety five.
I am battered and bruised but still alive.

I served in the war
For my king for my country
Yet now I am poor!

I survived! An for what?
By pensions been robbed,
and I’m left to rot!

I’m beaten and worn,
my heart’s still pumping
but torn.

My friends are declining,
my wife, she is dead,
and I am left pining.

Arthritis, dementia  and cancer
My new friends. What now?
That I can’t answer.

Good memories? They fade.
I sit still in a home,
anything for youth I would trade.

I am an old man of ninety five,
I’m battered and bruised an no-longer alive.

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“To Her Good Master”

To count your virtues there’s many,
To counter, faults you have few;
It seems a good match, me and you.

Clean Smart, well-dressed and behaved,
better or nicer I could not pick,
you’d think we’d be able to click.
Pasta in water softens with time,
Give us a while and we’ll be fine

No fancy- inked scrolls lie here.
We are simple and spaced and clear,
not spicy is all that I fear.

The Spark? Who cares for ideal love!
What we have now needs no white dove,
no cupid to strike,  no harp to play.
With you, I’m content.  So I’ll stay.

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Don’t Tell Me the Rules of Love  

It’s my heart, my mind, and my body.
And I offer no apology,
that you can’t cut a key.

Flowers, chocolates, wedding rings,
They’re from romance past,
And won’t help my love last.

I know this isn’t what’s taught,
But for me, loves not a promise of devotion
It’s an ever changing emotion.

If I told you that I loved you,
I mean today, but not tomorrow.
But flexibility’s not a reason for sorrow!

It’s my heart.
A book or poem or play,
I don’t relate to what they say.

Romance? It’s been made up!
Romeo and Juliet, people adore,
But they’re an imaginary metaphor.

We’ve got two shovels
let love dig its own tracks,
and don’t tell me the facts.

I’ll tell you something true!
Alexander left his wife for dead,
but found the lovely Cleopatra instead.

As I said it’s my mind.
I can only say how I feel.
And for me, polygamy is real.

Don’t pout!
Jealousy’s not attractive my dear,
you’re minds not open is what I fear.

You can’t own a person,
buy the rights to a heart,
It’s my life and I’ll play my own part!

As I said, it’s my body.
Honesty! I’ve heard people like that too,
I’ve been entirely honest with you!

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Parable; Babies in the River

Original Story

There are babies floating down a river. There is a bridge going over it. A few people who have seen are jumping off the bridge trying to save them. For everyone baby they saved, three or four more come floating by! Now hundreds of people have crowded on the bridge, they stare in horror. One man pushes past them to the other side of the bridge. He then starts strolling upstream along the river.

‘What do you think you’re doing!!! You’re just walking away!!!’ says a dripping man with a baby in his arms.

‘You are mistaken sir. I’m going up the river to stop whoever is throwing the babies in the water.’

Moral:

Don’t just try and stop the symptoms, find the cause of the problem.

Don’t forget to look at the bigger picture and work the dilemma out yourself.

My Version:

Martin was on his way to work. He was running late as he’d been out on a boozer the previous night. He’d had a luke-warm shower to wake him up, he hadn’t quite been able to face a cold one.  He hurried along the path next to the river. His office was on the other side. To his horror he saw that the bride was packed with people.

‘I’m never going to get to work on time!’ was his first thought. Then he looked down at the river to see what they were all staring at. Hundreds of babies were bobbing up and down like little pink grapes in the river!

He saw that a few people were jumping from the bridge and pulling them out. Martin rushed to the bridge. Elbows in, he pushed his way through them to the other side, and began to walk upstream in the direction the babies were coming from.  Was this going to be his day to be a hero?

‘What do you think you’re doing!!! You’re just walking away!!!’ said a dripping man who had just emerged from the river with two babies in his arms.

‘You are mistaken sir. I’m going up the river to stop whoever is throwing the babies in the water.’

That was a mighty good idea. What a brave man! The bedraggled man looked at him with respect.

But Martin wasn’t doing that at all. He was going to work. And now he was going to be even later. He didn’t care who was throwing the babies in the river. It wasn’t his problem. He didn’t see why so many people thought it was an issue, the world is over-populated anyway! Besides, if left alone things often sort themselves out.

Moral:

If you want to do something, but you’re worried about what people might think… LIE!

If you don’t put yourself first, you might end up doing something for someone else!

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