Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry

13/2023

I am not cursed with an organised mind;
Instead, it’s all tangents without a circle
In sight, tripping from one thing to
Another, and skirting the boundaries
Of credulity when something new
Distracts it from the bedded-in
Thinking it’s supposed to do.
The curse is normality, not the
Extraordinary.

R 13/01/2023 13:45

 

The well glimmers in the moonlight
Almost overflowed after the rain
Of weeks. Its surface is a mirror,
Its mirror a pane in the darkness of
The season, and nothing moves.
Anyone who looks into it is cursed
To be alone forever, ghost or not.
And still he goes up to the rim to
Look at the watery image of himself,
Despite his family. The home he
Returns to is cold and empty,
And no longer his.

R 13/01/2023 19:52

 

Today’s #MastoPrompt was #Cursed. If I was superstitious, I might say today was cursed because of its date, but that’s nonsense. It’s just been another busy one.

A friend emailed me today during the radio show wondering how I managed to do everything I do. I told her it’s because I create chaos all around me, always. And that’s not necessarily a good thing. Another friend emailed me to see if all was ok on the parenting front after my post yesterday. I am very fortunate to have so many people looking out for me. They’re probably, definitely, the fundament of my lives (plural word chosen deliberately).

So, late evening, and tomorrow will be another normal day. I even thought about leaving my alarm set at 06:30, but I shall relent with myself.

Words, keyboards, phrases, unfinished things. Those are the bits of the puzzle of my life.

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