Poetry Thursday 155 - Twilight Zone

 As I age, I see a difference in the way people look at you and treat you. I'm not talking 'with respect' or 'contempt' it is actually closer to suspicion. They seem to be suspicious that you are going to do or say something that will require support. 

The Twilight Zone

 

Used to be tales of mystery and imagination,

 designed to thrill causing the heart to flutter,

now it’s more about causes for exclusion,

and hazards making steps that stutter.

 

Disturbing bumps in the night,

inexplicable sounds cutting through sleep,

another reason to turn on the light, 

watching the hands of the clock creep.

 

Hardly surprising when you don’t work anymore,

that sleep is no longer a priority,

  need other purposes to dip into the energy store,

while searching for life's clarity.

 

Seems sleeping light encourages dreaming,

strange dreams of people and past,

the brain not just reflecting life and living,

creating new visions on which nothing to hang fast.

 

So having moved from working situation,

to a grey transitional state,

partly evidenced by friend and relation,

we are now in some place to wait.

©David L Atkinson July 2026 

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 141 - Signs

 I had a dream - not like Martin Luther King - that my cat had broken her tail! Also, something to do with tennis. 

 

Concerning Ginny

 

Look after my cat in a caring way,

Until I woke the other day,

Didn’t know whether to cry or laugh,

Her tail was neatly bent in half.

 

Everything is not as it seems,

particularly when it comes to dreams,

the cat has its organ of balance,

and can signal mood in abundance.

 

No worries over Ginny’s abilities,

still servicing her proclivities,

the indications were always there,

reality tops dreams everywhere.

©David L Atkinson April 2026

 

Game Set and Match

 Some with eyes squeezed shut just follow,

 some will turn to the right,

 some will turn to the left,

 some will see all set out before them,

 all are observing the same target.

©David L Atkinson April 2026

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday 75 - Mind Control

 The more the creative process is considered the greater the level of complexity plumbed. Although you can be creative and never wonder why. The poem 'Mind Control' is not about others controlling our minds but about how much control our minds have over us, in the realm of creativity. 

Mind Control

 

There’s nowt so queer as the human mind

it’ll take yer places yer nivver thowt you'd find

with companions possessing strange abilities,

passing to you developing facilities.

 

Breathing in watter so yer can swim wi’ dolphins,

 growing wings so yer can soar with avians,

readin’ minds ter identify yer foes,

healin’ hands to aid those with woes.

 

In the deep chill of the dark night,

the mind controls the path of your flight,

the conscious and moral compass stilled,

gives freedom to visit where it willed.

 

Pullin’ together events of the days,

intertwinin’ actions in unique ways,

the mind at the height of creativity,

beyond the comprehension of standard reality.

 

Enjoy the depth of the freedom given,

of earthly forces the mind is riven,

explore the created moments deeply,

safe in semi-conscious being, sleepily.

© David L Atkinson January 2025 

God Bless 

Writing - For the Best

 Just a quick read for an Easter Monday. 

Blurb 

Steele is drawn into a situation involving DCI K Best and then a threat to the Royal family. added to this echoes of his past and we have a story filled with questions.
The story takes place wholly within the British Isles and involves a minor member of the Royal family but was she the target or was she bait?
Has Steele met his match on this occasion?
Who is behind the plot? 

A convoluted plot but what kind of ending?

God Bless 

Poetry Thursday - 14 - Green Horse

 One of the beauties of being a writer is that you allow your imagination free rein to go where it will. The poem below was inspired in me over a few short hours and began with a dream from which I awoke at 3am the other morning.

Green Horse

 

Last night I dreamt of a green horse swimming in a lake

I had to splash water in its face to keep it in my wake

We landed here in Amsterdam for its low-lying shore then

I mounted the horse and rode it all the way to Elsinore.

 

Welcomed by the Danes,

a friendly people, although they were astonished,

as riding a green horse was behaviour to be admonished.

 

We continued traveling on

until we crossed the Rubicon

where the way the local people spoke

to the green horse sounded like a joke.

 

Green horse was disinclined to laugh,

and so we followed Caeser’s path,

sought out the rather comforting charms,

of resting in sweet Mary‘s arms.

© David L Atkinson November 2023 

God Bless