The Crumbling

It feels like the structure
Of my life
Is crumbling rapidly
I’m beset with strife

Like the city of Venice
I’m on precarious ground
Gradually rotting and sinking
Into the abyss that surrounds

It feels like the foundations
I have built
Have been swept away
As my entire world tilts

On its axis
The end of days
All I can do
Is hope and pray

The fire in my belly
Almost extinguished
No sense of purpose
I simply languish

It was never meant to be this way
I look upon my choices with dismay
I thought I was following my own true bliss
It was never meant to turn out like this

How do I get out
Of this stinking quagmire?
I want to scream and shout
But I’m silenced because I can’t get myself into gear

I’m at a crossroads
But it’s not signposted
I don’t know which way to go
And I am tormented, like a hostage

I had big plans
I had major dreams
But they lie in tatters
I’ve come undone at the seams

Oh, dear God!
Let not this last!
Don’t let this be the end of me!
I entreat you – rescue me fast!


A new pandemic

Is taking hold

The world’s gone beserk

Over Sourdough

An epidemic

Of tart tasting bread

You need a sledgehammer to slice

Being served it I dread

It’s chewy, it’s nasty

It tastes like turd

So heavy and dense

This obsession is absurd

And yet it’s everywhere

In every bakery and cafe

It’s very invention

Is a cause for dismay

No wonder they’ve named it

‘Sour’ / ‘dough’

You need wads of the latter to buy it

And may feel bitter if you don’t

Like a status symbol

It reeks of affluence

Accompanied with smashed avocado

Eating it suggests a gentrified stance

A plague du pain

A pain in the butt

I’m sorry if this irks you

But I cannot stand the stuff!

Fine, you may say,

Do not partake

If it was that simple

For sure another bread would I break!

But try finding granary

Or whole meal or soda

In a city besieged

With this poncy interloper

I’ve scoured every store

In the vicinity

For an alternative loaf

To no avail – what a liberty!

So I was forced to purchase

A slender baguette

Funded by taking out a second mortgage

Which of course I lived to regret

Not only did my knife

Warp, then falter and break

When I tried to cut it –

By morning it was stale!

So it went in the bin

And I went without toast

To eat with my homemade soup

What an utter joke!

Bread should surely be squidgy

Springy, buoyant and yum

Sweet yet savoury and moreish

And not cost an extortionate sum!

And what happened to having choices

As to what variety you can buy?

Why must we all conform

To the latest food fad that passes by?

Not everyone’s bloody tastebuds

Are exactly the same

Not everyone’s a slave to fashion

So please would you kindly refrain

From saturating the shops

And eateries with this crust

It’s like chomping on a piece chipbaord

And I refuse to bow down to this cult.

The Castaway

So here am I
Alone with myself again
Rediscovering how to be
Solitary, knowing not when it will end

I do not miss him
But there is a void
Though I am better off this way
My vision has been destroyed

I do not wish
To traverse my future

I want something sweeter

Of the right blend
A distinguished consort
To a hand lend

Why I have failed
To actually achieve
This up until now
Does make my heart bleed

I kinda know
Where I sometimes went wrong
But I cannot be completely to blame
For having no heart in which to belong

The frogs keep a’coming
No sign of a Prince
They’re drawn to me
And I’m at a loss as to why this is

It really needs to stop
But how do I fend them off?
When they cling to me so blindly
Like a magnetic flame to a moth

Feeding off me
Like I emit some addictive elixir
And I know not how to turn off the supply
So irresistible to broken souls and tricksters

Am I too nice?
Or gullible and naive?
Am I a catch (for I think not!)?
Or am I simply someone to love and leave?

My body is weary
My optimism is fading fast
I fear that the road before me
Is paved with only loneliness, alas

I fear being the last woman standing
On an island in the remotest sea
I fear no man will ever in my lifetime
Truly love and honour me

And I have no clue
How to fix this glitch
And thus I conclude, in my particular case
A life such as this, truly is a bitch.