Month: December 2024

Frissons: A Golden Oldie :)

/ johnlmalone / 48 Comments
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Frissons

A frisson is what you feel when you tread a new path

or hear your grandson’s multi-coloured laugh.

It’s rain on a tin roof: a tinkling xylophone

and dancing to Robyn’s ‘Dancing On My Own’






A frisson’s what you get when you ride the ghost train





Or rush out wheeling in the sudden summer rain





Or whenever an idea hits you high in the brain.





Frissons almost always go against the grain.










It’s the feeling you get when you take a big chance





And it pays off big time; or in a romance.





It’s the feeling you aim for when you write a poem.





Frissons are what keep the readers turned on.










*where do you get your frissons?





    

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Theatrical
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 44 Comments
								

			


		

		

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Theatrical





I got clothes I like to dag around in





when I slip into my ragamuffin ways :





ten year old cargoes that have seen better days,





a baggy T-shirt whose colours have dimmed





a bit like the wearer: the less we say of him,





the better; you missed your calling, the ex liked to say,





you could have played Pozzo in that Becket play,





you know the one, in one of its many revivals;





you always were a tad theatrical.











			

	


			
				


	

							
My Sybaritic Dreams
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 31 Comments
								

			


		

		


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My Sybaritic Dreams





I did it.





Burnt the candle at both ends.





I was an ardent little spark.





Worked on my magnum opus





but I was looking for a lark.










Took coffee by the bucket loads





who was keeping score ?





then found my way back to you





as I did before










We’ll be buccaneers at night





marvel at what we did





You’ll be my Anne Bonny





& I’ll be your Captain Kidd










And we’ll thrash the frantic hours





till the seas run red





and we’ll be lovers once again





as Van Morrison said,















    

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Yr Fizz [ Xmas Archives]
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 32 Comments
								

			


		

		

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Yr Fizz.





I opened up a soft drink —





You know how it is —





One recently opened





but it had lost it’s fizz.










It had lost its zest.





It had lost its tang.





It had lost its bite





& it had lost its bang!










So hang onto your hat.





Enjoy life’s gee whiz.





You gotta be where it’s at.





Never lose your fizz.










*Happy Xmas everyone





    

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Half Hearted
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 33 Comments
								

			


		

		

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Half-Hearted





I keep banging on about Faith but I haven’t really been tested.





There was that cancer a few years ago but it was a half-hearted thing.





Emotional traumas have been harder. The bust up of a ten year relationship. The loneliness. The starting again. I had family, friends, fellowship, but there were times I felt desolate.





Having a friend in the Lord pray for you is a huge buttress. I had Brian. And I had Philippians 4. 4-8. It is comforting as playing your favourite record, walking along a beach, beside a lake





‘We all need someone we can lean on’, said the stones on ‘Let it Bleed’





Lean on Him.





The road need not be hard.















*pic by pinterest






			

	


			
				


	

							
A Hard Case
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 26 Comments
								

			


		

		

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A Hard Case





Did you speak in tongues this morning? he asked.





No, I answered. I spoke to Jesus in English.





He recoiled in mock horror.





Not that tainted, tawdry language, he snapped. The language we lie in, swear in, fornicate with, do shady deals in.





The mother tongue. I say. The language of Shakespeare, Dickens. The language we spoke as children, made our marriage vows in. The language of the Bible, the one we read in our homes and Fellowship.





Bah! he said, throwing up his arms, as if I were a hard case, beyond redemption.











			

	


			
				


	

							
Your body, Your Vehicle
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 50 Comments
								

			


		

		

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Your Body, Your Vehicle.





It’s the vehicle you travel through life with.





Treat it well.





Have regular checkups.





Keep it topped up with premium fuel.





Take it places it will remember.





Have fun.





Don’t look in the rear view too often.





Yr body. Yr vehicle.






			

	


			
				


	

							
A New Way to Write
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 37 Comments
								

			


		

		


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A New Way





Because it read like poetry





I copied it down





as poetry:










‘One Indian summer’s day





we dressed





in our favourite things,





me in my beatnik sandals and ragged scarves





& Robert





with his love beads and sheepskin vest.





We took the subway





to West 4th Street and spent the afternoon





in Washington Square,





We shared coffee from a thermos,





watching the stream of tourists, stoners and folksingers.





Agitated revolutionaries distributed





anti-war leaflets.





Chess players drew a crowd of their own.





Everyone co-existed





within the continuous drone





of verbal diatribes, bongos and barking dogs.





We were walking towards the fountain,





the epicentre of activity





when an older couple stopped & openly observed us.





Robert enjoyed being noticed





& affectionately squeezed my hand.





“Oh, take their picture, “said the woman





to her bemused husband.





“I think they’re artists.”





“Oh, go on,” he said, they’re just kids”’





*





‘Just Kids’ by Patti Smith. 










    

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Flibbertigibbet
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 88 Comments
								

			


		

		


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Flibbertigibbet





I would like to read the longer posts





but I can’t.





I’m a little flibbertigibbet





‘you got ants in your pants’ said mum





I was the despair of the nuns but still topped the class in English





 ‘You have the attention span of a gnat’, my professor said





ouch !





but I still got my degree





it’s the ADHD in me





it’s a blessing, it’s a curse





but it’s worse





when some old bore is let loose on me.





I’m a Xmas tree.





I’m bright, I’m merry. I light up in company.





I trot out my little anecdotes.





I’m Mr, Tambourine Man:
I scan,





‘I dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free’.





I laugh. I thrive.





It’s a hoot to be alive.










*pic by pinterest






			

	


			
				


	

							
Glad
						

			 / johnlmalone						 / 45 Comments
								

			


		

		

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Glad.





People talk of death. Final moments.  





I was glad I was with her when she died.





Didn’t chicken out. Her on the couch.





It was 9.30. The kids would be at school now,





She held my eyes. I held a furry paw





as eternal sleep overtook her. A door opened.