‘Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.
– Lyrics from ‘Ride’, Lana Del Ray
for wordpress weekly photo challenge – time
Challenges
poetry | 101 | rehab | trigger
'Hi-yo silver away'
pull the trigger
masked man, hidden
aspirations in, the midden
dreams, unbidden
pull the trigger
heroes and demons, forbidden
identity, hidden
was it (ever), a given?
pull the trigger
or,
ask tonto
'cos, i don't
know
poetry | 101 | rehab | trigger
My (late) prompt for this week’s Poetry 101 Rehab Prompt is TRIGGER.
So, this week, I dare you. To pull, the trigger, but not your punches.
You can link to your post in response to today’s prompt by leaving a comment on my post and / or by clicking on the poetry | 101 | badge below and leaving a link.
And you can also tag your post with Poetry 101 Rehab so that it shows up in the WordPress Reader.
Please feel free to copy and paste the badge across to your own post and your own site 🙂
More information can be found on my poetry | 101 | rehab page.
project 365 mobile | mono | square | week 33
al fresco
every window tells a story
a partial pizza eclipse
reflected tram
rail perspective
reflective perspective
empty chair
I launched this Project 365 on Sunday, 14 June 2015.
You can see all my images, as they are posted, each day, to my mobile | mono | square album on Flickr.
You can also review all my weekly updates, posted at noon each Sunday, by clicking here.
vibrant
In the year 2025, the best men don’t run for president, they run for their lives
― Stephen King, The Running Man
for wordpress weekly photo challenge – vibrant
poetry | 101 | rehab | evening
one, summer evening
he closed, the door
walked down, the steps
one summer evening
sat, behind the wheel
turned, the key
one summer evening
maybe, he remembered
the (swaying) jungle palms
one summer evening
of happ(ier) times
in, malay'sia
one summer evening
no more, listening, to
we’ve heard it all, before
one summer evening
a short, drive
packed, locked and loaded
one summer evening
a, scribbled note
and, some scotch tape
one summer evening
sealed, tight
hold tight,
one, summer evening
just, one turn
of a
key
one, summer
evening
poetry | 101 | rehab | evening
My prompt for this week’s Poetry 1o1 Rehab Prompt is EVENING.
What does your mind turn to in the evening?
You can link to your post in response to today’s prompt by leaving a comment on my post and / or by clicking on the poetry | 101 | badge below and leaving a link.
And you can also tag your post with Poetry 101 Rehab so that it shows up in the WordPress Reader.
Please feel free to copy and paste the badge across to your own post and your own site 🙂
More information can be found on my poetry | 101 | rehab page.
project 365 mobile | mono | square | week 32
i see
nuff said
two by two
time warp
that morning feeling
mind the gap
ride the morning wave
On Sunday, 14 June 2015, I launched my Project 365.
You can see all the images as they are posted, each day, to the mobile | mono | square album on my flickr account.
You can also browse all of my weekly updates ,which are posted each Sunday, here .
optimistic
not the one who takes up his bed and walks
but the ones who have known him all along
and carry him in –
miracle – seamus heaney
not so very long ago,
i bought, a book
of poems
because,
i still
believe
in
being, human
do
you?
for wordpress weekly photo challenge – optimistic
see also my optimistic take on belgianstreets
*shot with nikon d700 and nikkor 50mm af-s f/1.4G lens at ISO 900, f/1.4 and 1/125s mono applied in lightroom cc*
changing seasons | v2 | one
time may change me
but you can’t trace time
– changes, david bowie, rip
for changing seasons | cardinal guzman | v2
*shot with nikon d700 and nikkor 50mm f/1.4 lens at ISO1250, 1/125s at f/1.4, lens correction applied in lightroom cc, no edits/filters*
poetry | 101 | rehab | roots
Home’s where you go when you run out of homes.
― John le Carré, The Honourable Schoolboy
Welcome to this week’s Poetry 1o1 Rehab Prompt.
My prompt is ROOTS.
This week, I have returned to my roots, or at least returned in a virtual sense through a collection of random memories of the place where I first became conscious.
I have been lucky, since then I have travelled far and wide. Yet, the echoes of long ago dreams, and nightmares, are never far away.
So, what do your roots mean to you?
of smoking chimney stacks
of green painted market stalls
of crumbly cheese, tripe, and onions
of foul smelling rivers
of windswept moors
of a red chair, that became too small
of ejector seats, deployed, in the surgery
of sweetie jars, all in a row
of sixpences, thre’penny bits, half crowns, and sovereigns
of windswept moors
of odds and sods, screws and nails
of rainy dark skies
of closed doors, closed hearts, closed minds
of spaceships, in closets
of windswept moors
of a marshal’s shiny star, they said it was real
of stone steps, push chair straps, and a broken nose
of water butts, deep, dark, repositories of long lost (toy) cars
of standing in the kitchen sink, to watch the steam train far below
of windswept moors
of coal fires, and coal sheds
of swings and slides
of snowflakes floating endlessly down from dark grey skies
of tiger and serpent, forever entwined
of windswept moors
of dank rhododendrons
of dreams and nightmares, wasps in curtains, statues in corridors
of incense and guilt, prayers and pain
of scuffed knees, thorny rose scratches
of windswept moors
of dandelion and burdock
of all things, bright and beautiful
of painted plastic caravelle, sausage, and chips
of salt and vinegar crisps
of windswept moors
of thunderbirds, captain scarlet, and rock snakes on mars
of trickling streams
of janet and john
of yetis and daleks, coal fired viewing
of windswept moors
of adventures climbing green wet walls, behind the shed
of walking by farms, hands held, one old, one young
of a big blue car with a bold white stripe
of biggles and (just) william
of windswept moors
of a (toy) cable car, exotic tales, faraway places
of bicycles and tricycles
of black and white
of library smells, pages (life) unfolding
of windswept moors (dark tales of what happened there)
of saying goodbye
of these,
i think, when remembering
my roots, and
the dreams, i had
poetry | 101 | rehab | roots
You can link to your post in response to today’s prompt by leaving a comment on my post and / or by clicking on the poetry | 101 | badge below and leaving a link.
And you can also tag your post with Poetry 101 Rehab so that it shows up in the WordPress Reader.
Please feel free to copy and paste the badge across to your own post and your own site 🙂
More information can be found on my poetry | 101 | rehab page.
andy townend 