| My Scribbles and other stuff |
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| Various poems and songs and short stories. |
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60’s Semi in a nice sedate village.
My room, and a window high above the grass,
Way above car roofs,
Taller than those houses,
People, neighbours, tiny ants scurrying about.
My playmate returns from an outing,
Time for Cowboys and Indians.
The bed on the left is my racing car, including metal chassis,
I know this as I once leant down to retrieve my fallen teddy,
and gashed my forehead open,
All hell broke loose, panic ensued,
I remember the dark, the rain, the back of the car, the blood.
My bed is my racing car, I always win against my sister.
I remember this house and I think of the kitchen.
My Mother, emptying her arms, full of fruits from the garden,
Eggs, runner beans, beetroot, tomatoes, bunches of grapes,
I see her now, treading enthusiastically up and down, holding onto the kitchen table,
Both feet in the big yellow bin, wearing socks that are stained purple,
Squashing grapes, splashes of blood, making wine.
I hear the crackling of the fire in the lounge,
I feel the heat of the flames, orange and red, see them licking black coals grey,
I hear him walking up behind,
He grabbed my wrist,
Then thrust my hand towards the open metal/glass door and shouted
“If I tell you to put your hand in there, you do it!”
Three chickens in the garden, pecking grit off the ground in their run.
One day after school, they had vanished,
A neighbour’s little black mongrel was running about, feathers in its mouth,
The villain,
We searched up and down the suburban Surrey street, found one, then another.
I told my best friend, that her pet beast - Dice - had eaten the third chicken.
My sister and I, standing on the ledge of the open lounge door,
Looking out at the mess of broken wood, tangled wire, feathers and blood,
“Cluck, cluck,” we turned around,
The third chicken emerged unscathed, from under the T.V.
Splashes of wine on the kitchen table,
Buckets of blood on the stairs,
Shouting, him yelling, thuds, then her scream,
Cold draught on my legs, I hug myself tighter,
Sitting on the top step, peeping through the banisters,
Waiting for the silence of day.
© L.F.THOMAS 1998
Freeze Frame
Hope is standing next to me
Never growing old,
Her dark magnetic eyes
Always looking so sadly,
She has always been there
Standing, Just waiting,
Then suddenly she’s gone.
I am growing old,
Gazing at an empty photograph,
An aching quite painful is
Nagging at my heart,
The world crashing down around,
Hope is no more.
An empty shell,
I stand and stare,
At the empty dip
Gathering dust beside me,
Eventually too I fade,
And disappear.
© L.F.THOMAS 1988/1999(um,
I forgot where I put it so couldn't finish it sooner)
MOUNTAINS APART.
(dedicated to my mother)
If a word could mean a thousand kisses,
I would write to you,
Along with it a thousand wishes,
So I could then go too.
Up in the sky a thousand sparkles,
Smiling down on you,
I’ll throw a jar and catch a startled,
Star and moon for two.
If I ever saw you shed one tear,
Along the road I’d run,
To snatch the wind and blow the fear,
Away into the sun.
If a word could mean a thousand kisses,
I would say your name,
Along with it a thousand wishes,
To be with you again.
© L.F.THOMAS 1992 (first published in England in the 'Poetry now 1994 anthology')
Mirror/Ragdoll Metamorphosis.
Lovelorn
And
Precariously balanced
On the thin edge of reality,
A gentle push,
Could send you flying
Into a black abyss.
Falling, falling, dark, damp, silence
Flung towards a grim dank death.
Jolted upwards,
Body jerking, just a ragdoll.
Light,
Up ahead,
Pulled out onto the ledge,
By a quixotic silhouette,
A hair’s breadth away from the end.
Rescued, lying in tranquillity,
Rigid thoughts,
Eyes shut tight.
A cool breeze whispers over exposed arms and face,
A bird cries out, another answers.
Taking in a gentle breath,
Calm, feeling calm,
A warm hand touches,
Lips brush against your face,
You open your eyes,
And gaze into deep, dark, pools,
Alone
No more.
© L.F.THOMAS 1991
REBOUND.
Destitute on a desolate bay,
Silky sand,
Cold and damp between my toes,
Vicious gnarled hands from the fickle wind
Throwing hair into my face,
The fading playful sun,
Trying to hide behind gloomy transparent clouds.
Am on the shore,
Looking with hope,
Towards a shrinking yacht
Disappearing into the blazing edge of
A huge puddle.
Nobody waved.
My heart sinks into misery,
The mischievous sun bounds back,
Out of the clutches of a moody fluff of cloud,
Then plays noughts and crosses,
On my bare back.
Shipwrecked and lost.
A shadow floats across the far horizon,
Noises to my right
From the rest of the world,
Footprints fresh on the sand beside me,
I follow their trail,
Still looking back,
For my boat,
A piece of white sail
Clutched tightly in my hand.
© L.F.THOMAS 1991
Salt
When I look into your eyes,
I see a deep blue ocean,
When I look into your eyes,
I hear the waves,
Crashing against the jagged edges of age-old rocks,
On an island in the furthest regions of your soul.
I can smell fresh salt from the wide clear sea,
A solitary boat sailing into the golden sunset.
I am on that yacht,
Holding your hand,
Lying by your side,
Drinking in the warmth of the fading summer sun,
Intoxicated, I should lie here forever,
Drifting slowly, into your soul.
© L.F.THOMAS 1991
Space Sand (A Song)
I place my head upon the ground
Bury my face into the sand
I must forget what I should not see
Turn my face into the sea
Waves all crashing up and down
Smashing all memories out of bounds.
I only ever wanted you
Even though I knew you thought of someone else
I only ever wanted you
Even though you thought me some place else
With my head stuck into space sand
Space sand
Hibernation was a good idea
Levitation would solve the problem
I need that rocket to the moon
Get me off this world
I need a supersonic solution
Cryogenics to freeze away my tears
I only ever wanted you
Even though I knew you thought of someone else
I only ever wanted you
Even though you thought me some place else
With my head stuck into space sand
Space sand
They’re all out there I’m still here
Get me out before I scream
Sahara desert all around
Lights swirling brightly in the sky
Out of sand dunes you fall
Into my arms too far so near
I only ever wanted you
Even though I knew you thought of someone else
I only ever wanted you
Even though you thought me some place else
With my head stuck into space sand
Space sand
Metal flashing through the sands
Blades slicing up this life so far
Memories falling through the cracks
Onto someone’s concrete floor
Bounce off the earth to hit a star
Back into the world where you are
I only ever wanted you
Even though I knew you thought of someone else
I only ever wanted you
Even though you thought me some place else
With my head stuck into space sand
Space sand
I only ever wanted you
Even though I knew you thought of someone else
I only ever wanted you
Even though you thought me some place else
With my head stuck into space sand
Space sand
I only ever wanted you
Even though I knew you thought of someone else
I only ever wanted you
Even though you thought me some place else
With my head stuck into space sand
Space sand
© L.F.THOMAS,1999
ANGELA
She screamed louder and louder. “I want one and I want it now. Everybody at school’s got one. They’ll make fun of me and call me uncreditworthy.”
“Angela, please, everyone can hear you. Calm down, please dear.” Debbie gently shook the young girl’s shoulders, trying to get her full attention. “Angela, please be quiet. Yes, all right then, I’ll buy it for you. Okay?”
“When? Now? If not, I shall scream again, I will.” Angela, hands on her hips and with that defiant look on her face, glared up at her auntie.
Debbie silently cursed her brother for having such a spoilt brat for a daughter. Well, it was his fault, never at home to look after her. Credit, that’s all he talked about and that’s all he ever gave Angela, so she expected it of others all the time. Money was her mother’s substitute.
Debbie pulled up her sleeve and handed her credit watch over the sales counter. The elastic orange sales assistant took the strap and swiped it over the laser beam on the credit register, then clicked it back into place on Debbie’s wrist.
“Angela, we should go home now.” Debbie took the girl’s hand and started to lead her towards the exit.
“I want an ice-cream.” Angela said, looking very stubborn again.
“Angela, we should go home now, your new toy will be there already.” Debbie sighed and wondered how long this new fad was going to last. The cellar was full with Angela’s discarded toys, most of them virtually brand new and untouched.
“Okay, but I’m driving back.” She snatched her hand away from Debbie, and skipped ahead at full speed, the white lacy frills on the hem of her bright pink dress, trailing behind.
Debbie pulled her sleeve back into place and numbly followed after her young charge.
The elastic orange parking attendant let go of the anchor rope and the module drifted east, towards the park area. Debbie spotted the knobbly head of the giraffe.
“Angela, look, it’s the giraffe. Oh look, there’s the lion, crouched down next to it.”
“Yeah, yeah, so what.”
“Oh Angela, don’t be like that. They are the only animals in the world, it’s quite a privilege to be able to see them in real 3d.”
“I can have them whenever I want, if I want, so I don’t care to see them now.” Angela turned away from the window and whacked the direction button on the console. The module swerved abruptly to the left, causing Debbie to crash into the side of the deck, banging her head against the metal crossbar overhanging the console. She collapsed in a heap onto the floor.
“Hah.” Said Angela, “I can go down into the park and steal the animals for fun. Hah, I can have anything I want, right now.”
With that, she pressed the silver square in the side of the module’s external door and the vehicle started to glide sharply down to the earth’s surface.
Angela jumped out as soon as the door lifted. She ran, heading towards the three green palm trees.
“I’ll hide in the forest, they won’t find me there. Teehee teehee,” she giggled out loud, “I’ll offer auntie’s credit strap to the lion, he’ll protect me. Teehee teehee.” She hopped and skipped and giggled to the beckoning cover of the little copse.
The lion, crouching behind the (only) blackberry bush (left in the world), watched her warily. His one eye stared unblinking as she skipped right past his hungry gaze.
Debbie groaned out loud as she tried to sit up. “Oh, my head is thumping unbearably. Angela, give me a hand dear? Angela!? Where are you!?” As her vision cleared, she quickly realised that Angela had left the sanctuary of the module and tried not to choke as the panic filled her throat. “Angela, what have you done now?” She shakily stood up and hit the button on the side of the door closing the exit, and headed for home.
Meanwhile, the one-eyed lion, stalked the skipping girl as she continued to bounce along, through his dark domain. He crouched low and started to softly growl out a warning. She ignored it and carried on towards the murky pond. The huge grey hippo, bathing on the bank, in the glistening mud, lethargically lifted his head to watch the energetic girl skip past.
“Weeeeeeee, ooooooohweeeeee!” She shouted as she whizzed past the pond, heading at speed, along the dusty dirt path, towards the far end of the forest.
As she reached the first of the twenty large silver ash trees that grew at the back of the enclosure, a scraggly black panther flew out from the upper most branch and landed smack on top of her, she crumpled into the ground.
“Oof, you nasty creature, get off me NOW!” Angela screamed, “I’ll bite off your tail, you horrid monster.”
“Ooh, no need to be so vicious, sister.” Camply said the panther, hurt by Angela’s spitting temper, “I’ll get off you straight away, I don’t want to catch something.” With that, the panther clambered off the spiteful girl, stood upright and dusted off the leaves sticking to it’s bedraggled black coat.
The one-eyed lion crept closer to the first silver ash tree.
Spotting the angry one-eyed lion, the panther immediately dived for cover behind the huge, knarled, flaking, white tree trunk. “Oh, go little girl, go,” said the quivering shrinking cat, “You’ll be bone-meal for sure, if you don’t get your skinny little skates on.”
Angela gingerly picked herself up and warily turned around, facing the one-eyed lion.
“Hah!” She spat out at the one-eyed lion. “So, you dare to creep up and threaten me, eh? Well, you can’t touch me, I have unlimited wealth. I can buy you a hundred times over, if I want. And what I want, GOES, so there, you awful yellow beastie.” Angela waved her auntie’s credit strap at the rabid one-eyed lion, then she turned and darted through the leafy dank tunnel, brushing away from her face as she ran, the entwined branches sticking out of the other nineteen silver ash trees, towering over both sides of the twig strewn path. The one-eyed lion, foaming at the mouth in anger, took up the challenge, sprang up and flew at speed, towards the annoying-but soon to be tasteful-morsel.
Angela reached the edge of the park, which was framed by an enormous red brick wall, at least twenty foot high. It threw out a shadow which engulfed most of the forest in darkness. ‘So,’ she thought, ‘that’s why the forest looks so dense, it is but a shadow of the fortress.’
She looked to her left and then to her right, no escape and then started to panic. The one-eyed lion landed with a thud, behind her. His stinking hot breath, lifting the hairs on the flesh of her skinny white neck.
“Oh, you’re a right one, my dear. Thought you could out run me?” Softly said the one-eyed lion. “You’re a right spiteful little cow, aren’t you. You know what we do with creatures such as you?”
Angela turned to face the one-eyed lion, and shrank back, shivering against the jagged edges of the solid brick wall. Her legs starting to give way, and she sank into the damp leaves, covering the forest floor.
The one-eyed lion started to salivate and licked his lips. “So pink,” he said, “So pink.”
As soon as Debbie reached home, she ran from the module, straight into the kitchen. She sighed with relief as she saw the container neatly packaged, sitting in the middle of the square pine table. She tore at the paper covering, ripping open the cardboard box inside. She wiped the sweat from her brow, with the back of her hand. She swallowed the still rising panic back down her raw throat. Carefully lifting the small metal cage from it’s covering, she gently placed it down, onto the cushioned linoed floor. She knelt down next to it and peered inside. Opening the side door on the left of the small cell, she reached in with her hand and pulled out the reluctant occupant, a short white mouse. She unsteadily stood up and with her spare hand, she rummaged through the rumpled paper for the instruction leaflet and the indispensable bag of cotton wool and gauze material. She then turned and headed at speed, for the module to go straight back to the parkland.
The module swiftly descended to the base of the wall, drifting along until Debbie spotted the fresh puddle of blood, soaking into the foundations of the forest’s boundary. With her heart in her mouth, she hit the module’s exit button and peeped out to check that the coast was clear. She dashed out of the safety of the shimmering vehicle and quickly scooped up the fragments of blood drenched bone and fur and blood splattered pink and white lace. With her spoils in hand, she rushed back to her waiting transport, hit the direction button on the light filled console and headed back again to base.
Debbie sat on a tall wooden stool, leaning on the bar, sipping her steaming hot coffee. Her brother nodded an acknowledgement as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She quickly shoved her left hand into her jean pocket.
“Hey Debbs, any trouble with Angela today? Did she make you buy her another mad science project again? I’ll have to have a word with her, she’s been getting away with far too much recently.” He nonchalantly stated as he uncorked the chilled bottle of white Rioja, the condensation on the label, dripping onto the shiny surface of the kitchen table. “You know, I think I put upon you too much, little sister.”
Debbie looked up in shock. “Well Terry, she’s not really been too bad. But yes, she has been experimenting with the new kit that I bought her in the medicentre. Apparently it’s another new playground fad. I don’t mind really though, as at least she’s gone off the idea of buying the last surviving lion. And, well, after a time, she does start to grow on you.” She answered her brother whilst looking up at the ceiling trying to avoid eye contact.
Her brother caught sight of the little white mouse, laying dead on the pile of paper, as he threw the bottle’s wrappings and cork into the bin.
“So Debbs, the laboratory set was a failure or she got bored again, eh?” He re-placed the bin lid and opened the cupboard above to reach for a glass.
“Well, it wasn’t a complete failure, and she is still very attached to this particular experiment.” She said, looking down. The one-eyed pink and white laced Angela, growing out of the gauze on the back of her hand, blinked up at her from out of the darkness of her pocket.
THE END
©Copyright belongs to L.F.Thomas 1999
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The world from the story 'Angela', has just been born. There are many other stories from this world of the 'not-so-far-away', waiting to be up-loaded. This is Jungle_Joanne's world, where money can buy anything, and everybody is disposable. A world where you CAN choose your blood before you are born. A world where you pay others to take your pain or make your fantasies become truth. Maybe this is world is here already.................................. |
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*Swish,
swish* ©Copyright belongs to L.F.Thomas
1999-2004 |
more soon
*Swish, swish*
Jungle Joanne runs after the droid. 'Hey you, stop, I order you, now!'
The droid ignores her and dives into the waiting module.
Just as she catches hold of the droid's black cape, the module lifts into the air with a silent whoosh. She is thrown with violent force, into the side of the dull grey concrete landing bay. She closed her thoughts to the invading army of unconsciousness.
Jungle groaned out loud, as the stranger gently scooped her up.
'Don't worry Jungle, help has arrived,' whispered the stranger, softly.
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belongs to L.F.Thomas@www.junglejoanne.co.uk&Bear Bottom Scripts 1990-2004.
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