Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry


apex is one person.
Nothing below matters,
ideologies irrelevant except
for that of selfishness. The rest
of the diabolical triangle is nothing
but sycophants on the second level, silent
majority at the bottom. Death pervades this
geometric shape from the top sharp point down,
where a word out of place is a blade to the heart of
the suffering, the oppressed, the innocent, the foundation.

R 01/02/2023 11:39


Today’s #MastoPrompt was #apex. OK, the above isn’t a perfect triangle, but I think we all get the drift.

A busy day again, and my patience running out on several fronts, despite me seriously attempting to reduce the pace of all my doing. Even my walking, although the slightly slower pace did make me feel very unstable in the wind. As usual, though, walking through the Heath in the gloaming provides a sharper soundscape than in the light, and can be quite creepy which sharens the senses, too. Until you get two Dalmatians with flashing collars bounding towards you and start wondering where the other 99 are. And not having the presence of mind to shoot this immense witticism at the owner of the dogs who anyway is trying desperately to ignore you. I try to ignore dogs, but they jump at you and sniff you regardless, unlike the masterful creatures that cats are who just ignore you unless they want something.

Many things yet to do – and not day job; all those tasks will have to wait until tomorrow – on the writing, thinking, and doing front, one of them being to find some therapy magnets downstairs for my left shoulder which seems to be getting worse not better although I’ve not done any press-ups for a week (and I miss them, weirdly). And my acupuncturist is ill so I’ve not had the hoped-for treatment and needling of the offending part of me. I’ll get there. Self-carer, heal thyself.

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