Weds Poetry Prompt: ‘Save Me from Small Talk’

smalltalk

This week’s prompt: Write a ‘chore’ poem

Save Me from Small Talk

It’s such a chore
Pretending I’m not bored
By such insufferably tiny talk
We always mindlessly squawk
The same old inane phrases
To each other’s fake-ass faces,
‘How are things?’
We nauseatingly sing
‘How have you been?’
We say when we mean
To move a back-and-forth along
Only to merely prolong
A cursed loop of chitchat
With no end in sight.

I don’t care about the weather
Neither do I about whether
You’re keeping out of trouble
(I find such blabber intolerable)
Please talk as the real you
Show me what is true
And not coated in false cheer
The voice within is the one I wish to hear.

Tell me your wildest dreams
As we gaze up at moonbeams
The deeper and darker side
That during the day we sadly hide
In fear of gravely offending
Those peers so frightfully boring
Be the one to softly whisper
The words that make me shiver
And I’ll be yours forever,
My saviour from the mindless aether.

Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, avaliable NOW!

Paperback – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Selection-Poems-Stuart-Peacock/dp/1911476335

eBook-: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M</a

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The Next Chapter – A Confession of Recent Feelings…

next-chapter

So yesterday was my last day at my current job. The nature of the work means that I can’t really get into the specifics of it too much, but suffice to say that it involved supporting those with learning difficulties – so a rewarding but oftentimes extremely challenging occupation.
I’d been doing it for the past six years, with various changes of locations and faces during that time. I got promoted just before the five-year mark, with everyone around me telling me that I was doing a good job, that I had the kind and caring nature suitable for such a role, that I was highly valued within the organisation.

The problem was, I didn’t always really believe it.

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Weds Poetry Prompt: ‘Wake the F***k Up Today’

wakeup

This week’s prompt: Write a ‘special day’ poem

If last week’s poem was about indecision and hesitation, then consider this the angry, snap the f***k out of it response. Writing this felt like chiding myself, so I hope it resonates with others who might have let themselves get complacent. I have been with my writing as well, in all honesty, so I will set out to rectify that…

Anyway, enjoy:

Wake the F***k Up Today

Today was the day
I finally broke away
From excuses and delays
And climbed out of the bed
That complacency had made.

So many days passed in a daze
Bleary-eyed and barely awake
Reacting but never acting
Consuming but never creating.

This was the state I laid in
Standing up physically, perhaps
But flat on my back mentally.

Today my mind jolts up as well
After so long in half-hibernation
Awakening the art of giving a damn
And the power of concentration.

The way forward is clear now
Now I’ve been recharged
With reason to rise restored,
There may be a thousand risks
But equally potential reward
I won’t know until I press on
And push recklessly forward.

Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, avaliable NOW!

Paperback – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Selection-Poems-Stuart-Peacock/dp/1911476335

eBook-: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M</a

 

Weds Poetry Prompt: ‘The Fourth Choice’

scared-4

This week’s prompt: Write a ‘four’ poem

An interesting prompt (and forgive the lateness) – this is what I came up with, hopefully this is something that my fellow anxious souls can relate to…

The Fourth Choice

Most people decide
After the third time,
Choices largely comes in threes;
Stay put, go for it, or simply flee
And save it for another week;
But I complicate things
By trying them all at once,
A fourth option, hardly wise,
But the best one for now,
The decision that isn’t one –
A deceptively easy route
But ultimately harder in the long run.

Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, avaliable NOW!

Paperback – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Selection-Poems-Stuart-Peacock/dp/1911476335

eBook-: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M</a

‘I’m Sorry You Feel That Way’

fauxpology
Brilliant term – wish I’d come up with it myself

I’m Sorry You Feel That Way

‘I’m sorry you feel that way’ –
Out comes that excruciating excuse
Which quickly denies any part
In creating this haze of hard feeling,
A half-apology I tire of hearing,
Following my downright shocking reaction
To their thoughtless words or actions,
And yet still they hammer away:
‘You take too much to heart’, they say,
‘Too sensitive for your own good’,
Callously chipping blame into me.

Clearly, I must grow thicker skin
Or leave my humanity at home
Where it cannot cloud my sensibility,
How foolish I have been
To expect care or sympathy
At the detriment to the company!

Next, they will helpfully say
(Or subtly imply, at any rate)
‘Wipe those silly tears away,
And forget what’s made you frown,
Grin away and bloody well get on with it,
There’s only so many hours in the day
And this silliness has already pissed too many away’.

I stand up, roll up my socks and sleeves,
Compose myself for the greater good,
Take a deep breath, and simply state,
‘I’m sorry you feel that way’,
As I stride smugly to the door,
Bewildered, they don’t know what to say,
Before a defiant slam, I chirpily add,
‘Have a nice day!’

Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, avaliable NOW!

Paperback – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Selection-Poems-Stuart-Peacock/dp/1911476335

eBook-: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M</a

Weds Poetry Prompt: ‘Confessions of an Ex-Doormat’

no

This week’s prompt: Write an ‘ex’ poem

So I saw the wonderful Sarah Millican live last night, and one of the topics she covered was ‘saying no’, which inspired this poem (and is also a celebration of sorts of how I’ve become a lot more assertive myself in recent times!) Hope you enjoy, and that it inspires you if you have problems saying ‘no’ yourself!

Confessions of an Ex-Doormat

I used to say yes
To every single request
Some might say to excess;
A self-inflicted stress.
I’d be the one people would suggest
If someone needed a net
To scoop up their own damn mess.

But now I’ve learned the power of NO
A word that surely strikes a blow
For those who have only known
Witless compliance from timid drones,
Their response is a meek little ‘ok…’
As they scurry off and sulkily moan
Like a dog that’s lost its bone.

And I secretly enjoy the face
Of a schemer put in their place,
I only hope this new word won’t inflate
My ego to a similar state.

Like this poem? Read more in my first poetry collection, ‘The Awakening’, avaliable NOW!

Paperback – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Awakening-Selection-Poems-Stuart-Peacock/dp/1911476335

eBook-: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B017BZBH6M</a