Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum

I’ve got this card thing going that fits perfectly into the gaping wound that Hallmark has left in the market. Hopefully my budding business will clog it up good and proper

I think I get it

They move through the world
abruptly disturbed
Pushing and stone cold
They put the act well on
So well in disguise
That I found my heart stoned
Stolen moments I wondered,
could not understand and
Now they stand on a platform,
exposed and so real
The platform they’ve chosen
I see it now
Is an enemy armed
So strong with their fear
consuming all sense
and stopping it up
And for them I feel sorry
If they were just accepted
scene as themselves
Then at least they could rest up
Move past with ease
Not so uncomfortable
and well loved
Maybe then

The Wimbeldon security guard program

The weather was cold and grey, which went perfectly with the surreally authentic security guard uniform I was wearing. Reeking of polyester, I stepped out of the change room, ready for my very first shift. It was strange, I felt weird and my shoes were a size too small for me. Not a good thing when you’re planning on walking around and around and around and around Wimbledon tennis grounds. The first five minutes were ok. I was mildly amused by the fact that I was somewhere I had seen on TV. I’m not a tennis fan though and my mild amusement soon melted into the immaculately kept grounds. Within fifteen minutes, I’d made my way around the tennis courts for the fifth time. I had another 7 and ¾ hours of the day left and three months of work ahead of me. Just how many times would I have to walk around this place? My brain quickly did a side step and persuaded my body to dash into the change rooms. I chucked my plastic uniform to the wind and made for the nearest bus stop. Sometimes I daydream about what happened after I left। Like a “disguarded” uniform, that sparked a revolution amongst security guards worldwide. And an urban legend of the girl who vanished fifteen minutes into her shift, told to scare the hell out of rookie guards. Mostly I just smile away the guilt and tell myself, you were never meant to guard that well kept grass.

Imaginary friends

I have to say this out loud; I didn’t have an imaginary friend growing up. A strange confession, I know. I mean most people see a little bit of crazy in hanging out with a pet gorilla that lives under your bed. And to be honest, they’re probably onto something. The thing is, I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve missed out on some creative right of passage. They say kids that invent their best friends are born artists and I’d have to agree with them. A mind that can conjure up characters to play with, really is over above the call of duty. And while I get that we all need to grow up, there’s a daydream of delight in the uninhibited creativity of kids. So, this is my imaginary friend journey. I guess it’s my way of joining in on something that I seem to have skipped. Here’s hoping you find a city big enough to fill with everything you dream up.






They sat in trees, like snow, and played hide-and-seek in the sky. Together they watched the world go by with bubble gum eyes and often discussed how yeti, being blue, was always hardest to find.