How often we visit a place and feel that we have been there before in a past life.
Quote by poet.
I went to France for the very first time and decided to go exploring,
the girl at the hotel told me about the beautiful woods that were nearby.
She gave me a map and I got in my hire car and drove a short distance,
I arrived at the woods and parked the car; there wasn’t a soul about.
I put on my walking boots and headed for the entrance to the woods,
a strange feeling came over me, like someone had stepped on my grave.
I tried to shrug it off, but it kept niggling me, I carried on walking and knew
before I heard it that there was a huge waterfall at the bottom of the hill.
I felt really spooked by it, and I asked myself, have I been here before?.
Déjà vu
when off my meds i lose my way ~ i never use them it’s all hearsay
here’s a placebo script for sham poets ~ typed AI doc straight away
oh there is one niggling side effect ~ it attacks good blogs everyday
By David Kavanagh
injured iguanas ignite interest in Indonesia’s injuries
Jubilant jackals joyfully joined January jealous juries
kind-hearted kangaroos kindled koala’s kaleidoscopic kin
large luxurious lions lollygagged in London lamented Lynn
marinated mongooses marveled at Marauder’s mini-Monday
Naysayers need not negate necessary niggling notes of nay.
The storm had loosened
the crabs last desperate grip
and lifted it up
on a wave,
flung it onto rocks to let
it die on its back.
I looked at it with pity,
picked it up and set it down,
right way up. In death,
its claws still held strands
of bright green weed,
the shell bore a fatal crack.
In two minds, I left it there
rather than put it back
into the sea.
Soon, two seagulls squabbled
over its carcass. For me,
the crab was a niggling
reminder of mortality,
to the seagulls, a meal
gifted by serendipity.
Lightheaded I ambled
towards the lonely pub.
Liquor helps sometimes you know.
It burns the mind,
empties it
of niggling thoughts,
of subtle yearnings,
of ambitious aspirations.
There she was
redhead and flushed.
A companion in distress.
We drank together,
confessed together,
envied together.
Time's up.
Outwards we lurched
hugging each other
towards the beach
where empty cabins
gave us respite.
Morning arrived.
She was not there.
Pity!
I knew not her name.
Might as well call her
whisky.
Building
tension from a
niggling tickle inside
my desirous heart when you stroll
through the depths of my haunted memories
in what had been then, or could be,
as I seek forgiveness,
tension slowly
building.
Written: December 09, 2023
______________________________________
Honeyed gold pearled shades
brown ferns and aspens
into shadowed paths
lit embers and oaks
As darkness draws near,
with bowed tears of stark
runic streaks of light
dapple my sky
showing only maze
of black enigmas
crimson, lucid blaze.
leading to plum sky.
Swift shades drape my thirst
like dim-lit daydreams
that persist through time
niggling at my nerves
in sparkling strings of
stern frame blush skyline!
whilst glum chorus swells
in ghostly darkness.
Gloom morphs darned mayhem
veiled cinereal shroud
as she touches me
gazing with sleek sight
hushed tones, wan relics
of laid skyline bleeds
lost in shades of rouge
Onyx oboe chords.
The blaze has withered
oblivion crave.
A white plastic bag flapping on a stark tree
acts as a windsock if I needed one – I don’t.
The GPS guides my mind upon a flickering map
toward salt water
where silver fish are leaping into the cold air,
gulping at a low-hanging haze.
Still as stone is the marbled sky.
I have yet to arrive,
the shore is bereft of place and time yet.
We will all freshen up later.
Until I am there
I travel incognito using a name
I once found in a book of minor sorrows.
My niggling fret this day is a longing for the sea
here in the middle of a prairie
where buffalo slowly much the miles ahead.
The rolling rubber is impatiently whirring,
pining out here, speeding over dry dinosaur bones.
Five hundred aqueous daydreams ahead
a shore fish-restaurant is already
opening its doors.
Much has been written about a treacherous heart,
and how it beats with the need for passion's fire.
I was content on my own, without a single thought
of falling in love, but soon I was filled with desire.
He was perfectly charming, saying all the right things
with that masculine timbre of a sultry voice.
His eyes of ocean blue, pulled at my heart strings
until I fell in love with him. I had no choice.
But there was a niggling worry floating in my mind
that something was off that I couldn't quite define.
He had flaws, but to all of them my heart was blind,
refusing to warn me with a dissuasive sign.
His true character showed when his temper flared
and his verbal abuse caught me by surprise.
He resembled a rabid creature, with teeth bared
and became a snarling stranger before my eyes.
"I shoulda seen it comin," the cliche is a phrase,
that tells the story of hindsight one should've taken.
But a treacherous heart refuses to see and then pays
the price of being wounded, bleeding and broken.
February 2, 2023
I Shoulda Seen It Comin' Contest
Sponsered by John Lawless
The epoch bleeds of songs etched in the hearts of men
who though affection sought were never an inch near
Niggling emotions, ominous nights of unrest
The heart had charged its cost for needs unmet
Illness is the picture of life devoid this pleasure which
Lies seemingly close but is yet beyond reach
Of all the Earth's gold, this stands above treasure
Verily, this could be understood by all who sought
Earning some compensation that ranked below their thoughts
Yearning acknowledgement, filled pools with emotions
Over and again if in pursuit I have to remain
Until it is granted, more nights of unrest
Tomorrow will come; I know it will
yet, unfailingly, I doubt it still.
I lack faith to close my eyes without
a small niggling element of doubt;
that maybe I'll never see next morn,
or that perhaps I am not yet born.
But one fear is there I cannot bear;
that I awake and you are not there.
Snows caps on the far hills
it's gonna be a hard one.
I drive to town for some lumber,
check out a new generator
old ones on the fritz.
Folks got some winter gear on already.
At the hardware store
slow minded Jack Hawkins gives me a hard time.
I hand him a list of ammo I'll be needing,
some fishing tackle, tar paper and paint -
put it all on store credit.
On the sidewalk
sheriff Harper gave me a sideways look
as he drives on by.
Back at the double-wide
there's chores aplenty waiting.
I wish the old lady was still here,
but she died last winter
after a long year of gut ache.
I miss her niggling ways
and the bed needs her warmth.
At the funeral her sister
glared nails at me all through the service;
she ain’t the forgiving kind.
Bolt down a greasy supper
then catch a face in the cracked wall mirror
an old mug with steel gray eyes.
I wish I could find a question
to ask that feller but I already know
that I'm just hanging on here
not willing yet to give
one god-damn inch.
[Warning - This Acrostic may contain profanity…
I have checked and I couldn’t find any, but, well
something’s just kinda niggling me… honest guv]
Heroes of the ‘super’ variety
Often disguised from polite society
Lovers, fighters, angry blighters
Yesterday’s pilots, freedom fighters
Feline-like women that purr just like cats
Under the radar they fight beside bats
Counting on suits that’s are mostly machine
Kicking ass when you are huge… and you’re green
Ice maidens freezing, their foe to confound
Nothing’s too weird when there’s heroes around
Godzilla it seems is no more wanted dead
Superman flies like a bird, it is said
Hawkeye with arrows will make villains quiver
Iron man trusts that his suit will deliver
The thing is the thing, and he’s always a rock
Batman gives Joker and Riddler a shock
Antman is simply the size of a speck
Truth is, that none of them even say ‘heck’
Most kids have tablets at which they will stare
And that’s why young kids, anytime, anywhere
Never not ever, shall hear heroes swear
[Oops! Don’t look down.]
Voice of conscience here you are again
niggling at my soul like one last Amen
Breathe me in, but do not rob me of my choice
you know its nice when I can use my other voice
Take me to your right but don't neglect my left
you conscience, are my wholesome gift
Whisper to me softly truths I do not dare
for when my slate is clean I feel light as air
You conscience, are the reason I behave
the purpose I hold straight my stave
Drink me in and water my reason
be at my side, for every season.
June 4, 2021
Sunlight plays at breach of dawn,
chasing a rippling tide across the sea
as I escape darkness like a new born fawn
from shadowed thoughts keeping pace with me
Worries flutter around me, they linger
like scurrying phantoms who leave no doubt
that if they were to only touch me with a finger
I would freeze with trepidation, unable to cry out
It's a niggling fear that chills me as the frost,
knowing someone, or myself is in grave danger
Nothing is more frightening than feeling I am lost...
realizing that to myself, I'm no more than a stranger
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