Welcome to the Pasta Ship

We Write

Welcome to the Pasta Ship

Pasta Ship I dreamt of you
Slopping crusta Sea of pooMitt-soup-bitty lumps of waste
Adding to an ocean tasteThe Asdead price of sleep was choke
On what-i-sewage not a joke

Stringis Khan from bite to whale
Why should hew-Man’s end the tale?

© Grant

A word-sounds textscape to include Mitsubishi and Asda after I read reports on their dying attitude to sustainability of sea fish stocks.

I may hope the whale can bite back but the humans (hew-mans) hold the high ground and look like they’re going after the low sea too.

Posted by Grant.



The Flukes of Dry Beds

We Write

“It’s sometimes hard to pick a bed and
most seeds have no choice in the matter.”

“It can even be hard to lay comfortably in a bed of your own making.”

“It can be the easy option to toss and turn a life of
endless mornings in another’s lumpy bed.”

“It can be the hardest option on earth to change the bed,
even by fluke …”

The Flukes of Dry Beds
In the sun-fried fathoms of a once fantastic friend
A few fluke fantasists were drying on a bend
One fluke read out his fan mail from his final feather bed
Then woke to find that in the light he’d met his morning, dead.
The flukes forwent the festal fuss that followed his farewell
Cracked bed forlorn feigned sorrow, felt his fellow feelings well.
Then tolled its final foldaway to fight fears of bed-hell
But filmed the footage for the folks that forayed Cable-Tel.And when hot’s footsteps stopped upon the crumbly top infill
The bedyard’s former patter tongues fed feet their half-quadrille
As phagophantoms all flocked in to take fluke’s eiderdown
A flow of funny water slightly freshened all around.Some new fantastic friends awashed with fantasies, no frills
Brought pennies from a heaven fall of fluid from the hills
By fluke for fluke and River Bed cold comfort flooded brook
And all forgot the sacrifice their fellow flukes partook.
© Grant

I was visiting a nearly dried up river where, like rock pools on the sea edge, there were still bits of water holding waterlife who’s hours were numbered. I couldn’t save my flow of tears for them – too salty

There was a fluke there. I could have given it one last drink – a donation. I didn’t. I let it go.

That river sometimes runs with water. Once, it always did. I think I know it’s progress to use water for irrigation to feed humans but I also know it’s folly to make fellow creatures homeless and to kill many more

 (Comments Closed)
Ryanwazhere – that third stanza is incredible
GrantoftheHoBB – Thx.
When all my stanzas go as well, I’ll publish or I’ll not wait till I die and bring in an Editor/ Co-writer for re-writes.
Ryanwazhere – Cheers!!
Ryanwazhere – Another compliment – positive attitude. Bravo. Hazaa!
Posted by Grant.