Skylights, day 3

Skylights.

To your mind, skylights were needed, to me

Their geometry of blue intrusive

In a place no one was meant to see.

Ghosts would frown to admit elusive

Passing fashion, beams and motes, that would bodge

A roof, an arched guard against weather gods

From time out of mind, its tile standing on bricks

And it unwilling to weaken its pitch.

Yet, the roof and me, we shared our surprise

That light, billowing in, was strong as stone,

Its miracle opening blind eyes

To corners stacked with manuscripts,

Mummified love that would come between us;

Meaning sepia’d to paralysis.

Day Three : Shaun

I'm completely getting snowed under by all the writing! Two short ones today then. One to sum up the mayhem of panic buying, be it fuel, food, stamps (yes, the newsagents have sold out!) or good old cold weather items. The second short one is just me looking forward to life after the said cold snap... roll on the summer!


Panic


De-icer is in
Behind the door all marked up
Special offer, look.



Festival


Summer. We head out
Go wild in fields caked in mud
Forget and cut loose. 

Day 3: Lara

Moth

Etched silk threads, millimetres from glass; 

and fossilised moths –

scattered across the greenhouse window pane –

like cured truths.

As I pull last season’s tomatoes

from the ground,

I think of cloaked women sentenced to

death; nooses around

their necks, walking towards sycamore.

It’s branches are strong

and will hold their weight – be memory

on hilltop,

lingering like a autumnal night,

like moths around bonfire light.

Day 3: Ashley

What is Comedy?

I sat unsmiling

through lectures on the plot-

centric nature of comedy.

Seriously, I studied the

exemplary works of

Aristophenes, Plautus, Dante, Chaucer, Rabelais

Shakespeare

Moliere, Sheridan, Wilde, Coward and Becket.

In solemnitude, I read

Sontag, Freud, Bakhtin and I

still have no answer to my question:

What is Comedy?

It’s time to ask Chubby McFat-Tits!