LEADERS - not followers

Saturday, March 30, 2013

WHIRL #102

For Sunday Whirl: Peak, Lost, Petals, Stone, Moon, Powders, Written, Staff, Locks, Pit, After, Calls.

(elephant) SMALL PRINT

Not exactly at your peak...?
Lost the battle of the bulge...?

Shed weight FAST with... Rose Petals...!

Lose up to a stone a week...!
You will feel over the moon...!

No powders, pills or potions
That's our written guarantee!

The rod and the staff comfort
The chains and the locks feel good
Even the pit feels homely
... after a session or two

*Calls cost nine pounds a minute*

Saturday, March 23, 2013

WHIRL #101

For Sunday Whirl: Hurry, Across, Forgotten, Country, Jar,
Disguised, Wound, Yesterday, Stirred, Mind, Tree, Sand


Hurry across
forgotten country,
jar memories
that disguised the wound
of yesterday;
stirred a stubborn mind...
conjured tree houses,
beaches, sand castles...

Friday, March 22, 2013

Sunday, March 17, 2013


For Sunday Whirl:
And posted to d'verse open link night #88











Share this with your Facebook friends:

A guy walks on down the street
Quick march; left, right, left, right, left

Things to do, places to go
Master of all he surveys

A distant voice calls to him
"Have you got any spare change...?"
So feint, he hardly hears it

He doesn't create a fuss
But his train of thought is rocked

"It's a bad day to die hard
So I'll stretch to twenty quid...
In other words... I love you..."

Wednesday, March 13, 2013


For d'verse


Doesn’t always pay to turn up early
Early birds are not rewarded with coins
Cons and pros don’t justify opinions
Open hearts and minds, the accepted norm
Normal services resume one Sunday
Someday soon, if you’re all up to the task
Taxed to the hilt by the Inland Revenue
Re venue; destruction undertaken
Undertaker, last rites and cremation
Creation, demolition take their toll
Toiling for a very modest income
Incomplete wage check, short a few nicker
Nicer times to come when we quit the game
Gaining when it ends… Perhaps it doesn’t...!

Sunday, March 10, 2013




Written by an outsider
...Shopping sprees are the future...
(when transfer window opens)
Use it or lose it, I say
Intimate fans 'love' their team
Away end don't leave early
Part time supporters stay home
Think it's like watching paint dry
Billion pound investment
Body blow to United
Manchester's two fearsome teams
City... and City reserves...!

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Nicola Batty 1963-2012

For d'verse Open Night Link #86

Nic often talked about visiting us in Thailand.
Unfortunately, she never got to do this.
So I decided to bring a bit of Thailand to her...

You can check out Nic's work in her Newsletter,
Raw Meat
Or on her Blog,
Without Boundaries.

Nicola , and Night Jasmine shared some unique characteristics...


THE NIGHT JASMINE ดอกราตรี (Dok Ratree)

Deep in the Isan heartland,
beyond the city limits
of Khon Kaen, Udon Thani,
across provincial borders
of Loei, Nongbualamphu,
past small outlying townships
that mark the end of the road
or to the unaccustomed
eye of any outsider,
perhaps the ends of the earth…
lies another, hidden world,
waiting to be discovered.

Beyond banana, mango,
papaya and sugar cane,
coconut, herbs and spices,
and organic vegetables;
past hand-reared, grazing cattle,
free-range chickens, ducks and pigs,
still the edible landscape
continues, ever onwards
dominated by rice farms.

Welcome to Village Isan,

and the simple, country life…

Here, a secluded outpost,

a peaceful community
of happy, friendly people
who tend The Land of The Smile,
is playground to the children,
workplace to the artisan,
and home to men and women
who inhale the fragrant air
of the valley, veiled in mist
that falls with the setting sun
at the coolest time of year.

It’s on evenings such as this,
that the Night Jasmine awakes
to the crisp, fresh feel of dusk,
its perfume surfing the breeze
allowing spirits to lift
as imaginations drift
downwind of the Twilight Bloom,
that will never love the heat
of a summer afternoon,
preferring instead the dead
of night at these cooler times.
The intensely fragrant scent
unleashed by the Night Jasmine,
exposed by encroaching dark,
enhanced by the chill night air,
floats free to alight on those
who seek out enlightenment,
as well as on those who crave
excitement brought about by
its intoxicating taste.

Its effect, evocative
also thought provocative,
conjures up a supreme state
of physical well-being,
spiritual contentment
and temporal fulfilment,
along with that totally
overwhelming sensation
of familiarity
with all the ways of the world,
similar to déjà vu;
that feeling of ownership,
possession of all knowledge,
combined with an attitude
of absolute confidence,
bordering on arrogance;
the one that goes hand-in-hand
with the gifts of second-sight,
of safety, security,
and a feel-good frame of mind
as intense as addiction,
that lasts till the new day breaks.

Sunlight ushers it along,

uniting it with the scents
of forest and field and farm
flowing free from far upstream
of the swollen river bed,
force-fed by the flash flood falls
that form from the overfill
of underground reservoirs.
High up on the mountainside,
the evening mist hangs its hat,
so cloaking the close of day,
and pulling petticoat tails
over unsuspecting slopes,
obscuring the silhouette
on the distant underscore
till dawn, when the rising sun,
with playful grin on her face,
lays chase to the fallen shroud,
sending the interloper
back home, to the space between
her own precious golden glow
and that of our Mother, Earth,
who harboured its one night stand,
tolerated its presence,
but welcomed with open arms
its life-sustaining moisture.

Our Mother takes one last sip,

before showing it the door,
without wave, or kiss goodbye,
in order to create space
for the scent of Night Jasmine,
and scents set free from upstream
of the swollen river bed;
scents of forests, fields and farms,
that conjugate, and bear fruit
so ripe it melts in the mouth,
to leave a lingering taste
of those morning mountain slopes,
and the hopes, and fears, and dreams
of Isan men and women,
who inhale the fragrant air
of the valley, veiled in mist
that falls with the setting sun
at the coolest time of year.
It’s on evenings such as this,
that the Night Jasmine awakes
to the crisp, fresh breeze of dusk,
and imaginations drift
downwind of the Twilight Bloom,
to a secluded village,
nestling in a hidden world,
waiting to be discovered,
deep in the Isan heartland.  

Saturday, March 2, 2013


For Sunday Whirl: Blessed, Snare, Wings, Unbalance, Ride Deserves, Slap, Gasps, Blue, First, Instant, Dust.


Formerly blessed with beauty,
now caught in that snare called 'age'.

'Bingo wings' unbalance her
when she takes him for a ride,
giving him what he deserves...
A bit of slap and tickle!

She gasps... once in a blue moon.
Has to be first past the post.
It's over in an instant,
and he can't see her for dust...!