views from an off worlder

it felt strange to awaken

to an artificial voice

after years

of chemically induced sleep

unable to grasp one thought

tightly enough

instead

permitting free-form

until something clicked

meliorism

trapped

strapped

without

ever looking back

trained but pained

our sacrifice

heralded a new dawn

to live in perpetuity

within

the archeology of knowledge

now we has become I

pilot

pioneer

pinioned

for research recidivism restitution

one dog barked at nothing

10,000 others also strayed

into etheric

fields

where dreams

are made of bones

© Shaun Parrin

Laika at 60: What happens to all the dogs, monkeys and mice sent into space?

Shaun Parrin had been writing, over many years, and been published in different genres, although he is not a professional writer outside his day job. He has previously been published in Poetry24 and continues to try this genre.

Wanted

I want you for reasons you are not.

For the cynicism from a tongue

well papered

accompanying

a vision borne from the freeze

intent on imprisoning sarcasm

nuance or inflection

before it can become

betrothed

on the altar of silent sentence.

Were it not for earthly possessives

that linger on the senses -

my truth silence in between words -

nothing but my words

would be understood.

A global comprehension

like that feeling not feeling

when you get got not

not here here not.

Beyond misanthropic mastery

closer to misplaced mistrust

and myopic melancholia.

Never was one once, never will be again.

Enthralled by fear and vanity,

wistful of emotion, religion and morality.

An ever changing scape -

sky, sea, land, urban -

manipulated physical space

ever in between

replete with metaphor and simile

duality and dualism

diversion, distrust, discontent.

Dreams dense with economic denudation

"WANTED! - Dry feet and a comforting bed"

© Shaun Parrin

Intelligent people more at risk of mental illness, study finds

Shaun had been writing, over many years, and been published in different genres, although he is not a professional writer outside his day job. He has previously been published in Poetry24 and continues to try this genre.

Of the overmorrow

brilliance of summer flowers

bow down to

placated autumnal hews

as most say their goodbyes

until the lightness of

the queens of spring

only the stoically hardy few

remain aware

frightened by apnoea

seduced by the grandiloquence

of sedition -

fight or flight against

the ravages of time

solipsistic adventures

betwixt the avenues

of ice and heat

light and dark

collectivism and solitude

the few that emerge onto

late winters sparse bounty

revive scent trails

towards the renewal

and the cycle

that ever was

until now

where once every exit

was an entrance

of labyrinthine proportions

only closed signs hang taut

alchemical approbation

abandonment atoned

in the underworld

of the overmorrow’s

want

© Shaun Parrin

Scientists warn of 'ecological Armageddon' after study shows flying insect numbers plummeting 75%

Shaun had been writing, over many years, and been published in different genres, although he is not a professional writer outside his day job. He has previously been published in Poetry24 and continues to try this genre.

one?

what remains of the day

has little concrete in

artifice

edifice

indolence

a storm by any other

woman’s name?

attached!

headlines

bedlines

middle of the road white lines

dreams?

picture book reality

a name-checked soap

a collection of peripheral words

thought?

gesticulated oxymorons

in deference to the thrones

with the most basic of facts?

perhaps!

betwixt origin and science

small worlds

collide

evolve

take root in an essence of self

lineage?

an affair de coeur

a state of defiance

ascending the ladder?

what remains of the day

© Shaun Parrin

Labour challenge Tories to rebel over Universal Credit rollout

Shaun had been writing, over many years, and been published in different genres, although he is not a professional writer outside his day job. He has previously been published in Poetry24 and continues to try this genre.

Letter Home

They promised the induced psychosis would pass
upon discharge but was only to be expected
like late-night night sweats
within the queuing bedlam 
tremors at that cold but very public loo
and mother-in-law bending yours.

Food is something else, as you can imagine.
At least there's no squabbling over the last morsel. 
You can pick at it and forget the diet.
Filmed I have been, a DVD to follow
£6.99 from you know who!
But I've no rights to something they call equity.
The bosses buns are rather tasty though!

I lay blame on that pin prick of a light
the "small sharp beam" onto the retina
you know, their tests.
Consenting restraint was used but to ill effect.
At least they've not lost some of their ancestry
and understand bared teeth.
Overhead lights only work half the time
what will my insurance have to say about that?

Will miss the bygone camaraderie
the austerity measure chats with the water cooler
because they've had to outsource
into a supply chain that can only deliver
tea and coffee every other thursday.
Above all, will miss the opportunity
not to sleep in solitude.  The logic of it.

Signing me out they are
next Thursday, the in between week.
I've been scenting the air of freedom
gets more defined with each days passing.
Looking forward to less of "it's all about my mother".
Will probably miss those articulate cable shows
as the laughter from some reveals
used to hurt you know down there. 
Not sure that cute doctor knows how to
tell the difference between colour let alone shape.

See you thursday... unless, of course, you see me first.

© Shaun Parrin

NHS reforms: Audit areas to be extended, Lansley says
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Shaun is a non-professional award winning photographer and published writer.

Sunday

"What shall we do today?"

If reason were not enough to stay inside
encased in the blue moon chill
of what weekend remains,
the expression on her face
said we will be joining them
not would, or could or maybe.

The cat stole its way from the void,
that endless repetitive space which
existed when we never could agree;
When the hunter gatherer required more than
an interest rate for barter and exchange;
When the science of numerology
meant more than a new car every three years;
When two houses meant two mortgages
but then two is supposed to be prime.

And besides we didn't need a new sofa
or fridge, or freezer, video, DVD or telly.

"What about... words and archers?"

The blowpipe's dart hit dead wood
the vine of silence tightening
until isolated thud of the letter box
and loud protestations from the cyclist
interrupted my wishful thinking.

"What about the new bells?"

Cat, unable to sheath the claw
during the high brunch stand-off
softened, playing heedlessly
with last nights accompaniments.
Red-faced negligence -
a decision not long in the making.

"Ready in five?"

© Shaun Parrin

Old St Martin’s gets its new ring of bells
Editor's note: We rarely receive a 'Sunday' poem, so this week's Review is making way. Normal Sunday service will be resumed next weekend.
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Shaun is a non-professional award winning photographer and published writer.