u believe

33555586942_24a0724316_k

in order and method

bully for you

i believe

in a last-minute reprieve

in incredible strokes of luck

in wing it like a bird

© Alex Ankarr 2016

Image Jeff Sharp, public domain.

Advertisements

Poem: …matrimony and the man II

2942523255_219619346c_b

Doves shot upwards

Snowfall in reverse

Confetti burst

the groom, and his groom

fine handsome catch

every bit his match

waiting on a promise,

all dolled up and fine

forever be mine

Vows are made

Doves are flown

Fizz all downed

Rings exchanged

Dance in dreams

flowergirl screams

(Too much cake. Allowed a sip of fizz
Parents, parents, why d’you do this?)

hand in hand and

husbands now

one last vow

wedding day done

cake’s crumbs,

Listen, grooms:

It begins now.

© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017

Image – Ludovic Bertron via Creative Commons Licence

The Entomologist and No-Spiders Man, chapter 7

7572940066_c8a8c46754_z

That only earned a quick smirk, that cute pretty/ugly, joli-laid face quirking into a sly sweetness.  “You didn’t spot me on ‘America’s Most Wanted’?” he asked, an innocent quirk to one ginger-brown eyebrow.  “The bank-robber episode, eighteen months ago?”

Oh, he was damn cute.  In fact, almost as cute as he thought he was.  Adam swept past him with his face held rigid.  Partly so as not to be too easy a mark, clearly gagging for it.  But, mostly, because the hallway was draughty, and he was fucking freezing.

He went straight for the sofa in the living-room.  Through the tiny reception room/holding cell.  (His apartment was affordable: decent area x atom-sized = half his erratic income.)  The sofa had a throw spread over it.  Or it did until a moment later, when it was wrapped around Adam’s shivering ass, instead.

“Well, you’re home and dry, and, um, warm,” Markov said, from behind him.  He was just on the threshold of the open door, hadn’t even taken a step inside.

 

 

image – Roman Vanur https://www.flickr.com/photos/80272075@N02/ licence https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

The Entomologist and No-Spiders Man, chapter 7

That only earned a quick smirk, that cute pretty/ugly, joli-laid face quirking into a sly sweetness.  “You didn’t spot me on ‘America’s Most Wanted’?” he asked, an innocent quirk to one ginger-brown eyebrow.  “The bank-robber episode, eighteen months ago?”

Oh, he was damn cute.  almost as cute as he thought he was.  Adam swept past him with his face held rigid.  Partly so as not to be too easy a mark, clearly gagging for it.  But, mostly, because the hallway was draughty, and he was fucking freezing.

He went straight for the sofa in the living-room.  Through the tiny reception room/holding cell.  (His apartment was affordable: decent area x atom-sized = half his erratic income.)  The sofa had a throw spread over it.  Or it did until a moment later, when it was wrapped around Adam’s shivering ass, instead.

“Well, you’re home and dry, and, um, warm,” Markov said, from behind him.  He was just on the threshold of the open door, hadn’t even taken a step inside.

Me & Pam – week 6

8932033483_187b8a780e_z

Ta-dah!  Here we are, somewhere around week 15 of the year so far, and…. er…   well, my resolutions are good.  Here I am, catching up with my weekly (!) blogging about the exercises and projects involved in reading Ms Grout’s ‘Art and Soul, Reloaded‘.

So.  Week 6, then.  *coughs*  Ms Grout’s essay for this chapter is about the practice of daily blogging.  A practice she is fairly faithful to, for anyone else who reads https://pamgrout.com/.  Much more faithful than I am, at any rate!  And the task assigned, for this chapter, is to start a blog.  *coughs again*  Well, as we all know, starting something is the easy part…

Oh, I missed a bit.  The complete task is to start a blog – job done, there.  And to blog every day, for a week.  Oh hell…

 

 

image – Hans Splinter https://www.flickr.com/photos/archeon/ licence https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

 

Poem: …matrimony and the man II

2942523255_219619346c_b

Doves shot upwards

Snowfall in reverse

Confetti burst

the groom, and his groom

fine handsome catch

every bit his match

waiting on a promise,

all dolled up and fine

forever be mine

Vows are made

Doves are flown

Fizz all downed

Rings exchanged

Dance in dreams

flowergirl screams

(Too much cake. Allowed a sip of fizz
Parents, parents, why d’you do this?)

hand in hand and

husbands now

one last vow

wedding day done

cake’s crumbs,

Listen, grooms:

It begins now.

© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017

Image – Ludovic Bertron via Creative Commons Licence