cat-flap (1/August/18)

I go to bed and then wake up and bam!… seems I’ve time-travelled again… it keeps happening… bloody strange I must say, a tad inconvenient occasionally as it doesn’t feel like it includes me in doing it, it just does it, while I’m asleep… downright sneaky dontcha think!… I might say it’s also inconsiderate but I don’t think time thinks like that, or even thinks, and I’m certain it’s nothing personal although it is to me obviously being that everything I experience, or miss, is personal… not only have I clock-hopped but it’s had the temerity to become an entirely different month so I see on the calendar, that’s of course unless it’s one massive conspiracy which would be crazy-think, but then again so is time-travel and yet here I am, I closed my eyes in July and now it’s… not July but August… you know there are some things on this planet that don’t have to worry about this happening, like insects that only live a day and suchlike… actually I’m not sure there are many suchlikes, but anyway, you get the point dear reader, and if you don’t well, join the club!… now you’re as baffled as I am… I mean, clearly it’s not as though it’s a huge inconvenience it just feels like someone is slipping months in through the back door, probably through the cat-flap… or perhaps the cats dragging them in along with dead mice… no, but wait, I don’t have a cat, in fact I’m not sure I have a back door per se… there are several doors in my house, some of which lead outside the house, but which one should I call the back?… does a patio door count, or a French window?… and if I go out of one will I be in another time than if I go out the an other?… one should not be bothered which such ramblings at this time of the morning, even with a belly full of porridge, brain-food though it is it’s still a bit boggling to awaken in a different time… I might need a couple of days to adjust, maybe 30 or so, am sure it will all have settled down by then…… … …

© 2018 robert greig

weathersnap (27/June/18)

it’s hot
far too hot
I’m listening to a frantic piano frantically pianolising seemingly using every key on its keychain to open as many notational doors as possible, some of which I’m sure have were never there before but’ve miraculously appeared at the conjurers fingertips which move faster than the air has here for days now as it hasn’t moved at all, as though being trapped in the trees and webs and tired hair of passers-by and no doubt a beard or two… can you imagined what turbulence could be unleashed with a sweep of a razor blade shaving off the aforementioned facial furniture… I might grow a beard but for not being young anymore I merely look like a vagrant, an unseemly wild man who wandered dazed from some forbidding forest to find myself confronted a velocitous, cacophonic, addled peoplescape of things, things and more things… feeling decidedly mercurial… is this good, or bad?… or just the first word to come to mind, rightly or wrongly, apt or not or perhaps it’s the onomatopoeic qualities it possesses when saying it, in how it’s pronunciation flows like mercury over the lower lip leaving  an aftertaste of near melancholy…… my tea is hot, welcome, my fourth of the morning I think, no third, yes it’s number three, as opposed to number six, which I may stop before then for fear of said number, being the number of, not the beast, the Prisoner whose life surely unravelled in a surrealistic maelstrom… not unlike mine in fact as I keep a wary eye out for oversized balloons…… don’t know what I’m talking about do you?… I know, I can only apologise as is the nature of unravelling in that when it happens it is invariably uncontrollable and become beyond the ken of even the protagonist… my inscape is not a safe place to be, nor one to linger for fear of, well, this very thing happening, where mind and matter meet, animomateriatimor, can never be regarded benignly nor predictably… like a weather seemingly halted in its tracks and held to ransom… by who?… who would do such a thing, weathernappers?….
hardly slept last night
kept waking
like this
stops and starts
for here such temperatures as these are unthinkable, in the 30˚ centigrade… or should that be Celsius?…. how confusing…. in fact the latter with the former having seceded to its finer toothed comb for teasing out even the smallest of nit degrees…… but I’ve gone on longer than I’d planned dear reader, time to not be here………… ………

© 2018 robert greig

like-mind (21/June/18)

but I don’t want to wake up

you have too

why? why should I?

because I say so

but that’s not fair, surely I have a say

not if you’re asleep

but I’m not asleep, I’m awake now

yes, you are but you weren’t when the decision was made

and who made it?

me

why?

because I’m awake

so I have to be awake because you are?

of course

but I’m tired

well, it’s too late now because you are

I could go back to sleep…

no, you can’t, I won’t let you

why?

it’s the solstice, the longest day

so, does that mean I’m not allowed to sleep?

seems so, if I’m not then you can’t be, simple

but doesn’t that mean that it’s going to be an awfully longer than usual time before next bedtime?

possibly, probably, maybe, depends

on what?

on when you go to bed

can I go to bed now?

no

why?

because I say so

how does that make sense?

because I’m awake, ergo, you should be too

I’m still not getting it, you can’t stop me nodding off…

yes I can

how, how could you? sounds like a bluff to me

because I’m you

what?

I’m you

how can that be

and you’re me

what? absurd…

and as I’m awake, and I say again, ergo, you are, it’s a fait accompli

I didn’t know I was multilingual

you’re not

but….

trust me, you’re not

but I am awake clearly

yes

if I just close my eyes……

hah! too late, you’re awake.

© 2018 robert greig