I see more of Bobbie Than I do of you. But Bobbie Doesn’t write text messages ——————- She doesn’t tell me – I don’t love her And sadly, Her little body Isn’t made To caress mine. —————- Life with Bobbie Is less complicated Than life with you Or life without you. Bobbie’s just there, WaitingContinueContinue reading “You, me and Bob”
Tag Archives: romance
A night out
You and I, relaxed a little, And you missed the last train. You’d taken me to a forbidden place, We’d scaled a high railing, And settled, unseen, in this strange, beautiful sanctuary. ——— You, clinging to your certainty. Me, trying to understand it. But not able to hear you For my talking. ——— In placeContinueContinue reading “A night out”
Reciprocity
Tell me….. If you don’t need me, What help are you To me? ——- If you have no use for me, I have no use for you. Tit For tatt. ——- It is childish., I will cut off my nose. Does it matter? Have you need of it? ——— I think what I’m saying is,ContinueContinue reading “Reciprocity”
Desperately seeking rejection
Seemed like a good title To explain yesterday’s revelation. ——- I seek interaction With others, In friendship, As well as love. But I cannot ever stop So must always be rejected. —— I must learn to anticipate. I remember in cadets; “Never anticipate the order” Seems to be hard wired In me. ——- I needContinueContinue reading “Desperately seeking rejection”
Chasing women
When you chase an intelligent woman Mind you don’t speak in rhyme. Don’t sing her songs, Nor dance before her. She’ll not be impressed. —————— For an intelligent woman Has seen it all before, And she knows she has no need of thee, And that happier she’ll be Alone. —————— So ask yourself, what moreContinueContinue reading “Chasing women”
One starry night
https://open.spotify.com/track/6tqtBSQ0byoeyIdkdYHI1Y?si=bWkM392tSgC6gSBVMLgklg One starry night as I lay sleepingOne starry night as I lay in bedI dreamed I heard wagon wheels a creakingWhen I awoke, my own love had fled I’ll search the highways, likewise the bywaysI’ll search the boreens, the camping places too,I will inquire all of our peopleHave they tide or tidings or sightContinueContinue reading “One starry night”
Learning about Love
Mind now, Don’t preach at him. He doesn’t like to hear any word that might be uttered in a church. Touchy boy. I think love is a word, Not a concept. It is used in many ways. Did he love his dad? Did I love mine? And of course there is familial love, Which growsContinueContinue reading “Learning about Love”
Non Monogamy
I’ve been meaning to write about this for some time, I didn’t mean to make it a blog post, but since I’ve been pretty open about my pursuit of human contact I don’t see why this shouldn’t sit here in the timeline. And I’m on holiday from my fiction writing, so my characters can spendContinueContinue reading “Non Monogamy”
Debs and George
It was Debs turn to cook, this meant that George got instruction, and the food was often a bit better, and there’d be more washing up. Lamb chops had arrived in the post from some exotic organic farm somewhere in Devon, where the little lambs were tucked up each night and read bed time stories,ContinueContinue reading “Debs and George”
Dear Lora,
Please start here… https://schnark.home.blog/2024/10/16/the-man-who-wrote-real-fiction/ Or, if catching up, go here for chapter selection… https://schnark.home.blog/category/other-things/fiction/ Or in particular… https://schnark.home.blog/2024/10/21/dear-george/ Otherwise this will make no sense! Dear Lora, Dear big, strong, Catalan Lora, Thank you for your letters, I will treasure them as I treasure my memories of you, and the time we spent together. I was more aContinueContinue reading “Dear Lora,”
George was late
Please start here… https://schnark.home.blog/2024/10/16/the-man-who-wrote-real-fiction/ Funny how it mattered to be late for an appointment with yourself. And to cap it off, he was here now, at his upstairs window, but wasn’t ready to say much. But then again, there were plenty of folk that never stop. He’d been thinking a lot about Mikey. He wasContinueContinue reading “George was late”
Debs
Anyone joining this story, please hit fiction in the top menu, and scroll down to “the man who wrote a true fiction” as there it all begins. Her name was Deborah, it never suited her. She met George at college in Newcastle way back in the 90’s, about the time that Jarvis Cocker was gettingContinueContinue reading “Debs”
Opening up to love and adventure.
My newest creation is Lora. Actually she isn’t my creation she was given to me, and I am very grateful. Lora seems very young, I didn’t mean her to be, but I needed an openness which is hard to find in adulthood. I know this because I’ve been looking for love for a year now,ContinueContinue reading “Opening up to love and adventure.”
George
George thought about his own times up in Lochaber, and around Glen Affric, and further south in Knoydart; he thought about the few people who lived there, and the people he’d met, in the bothies, or on the road, almost never on the hill, for the hills were big, and the paths ill defined soContinueContinue reading “George”
Dear George,
My name is Lora and I seen this coming. You found me in the Cafe in the train station, I been staying up Nevis with some friends, but they sickened and went home, and I not known what I do. I thinking you have a nice face, and you talking about all those walks, andContinueContinue reading “Dear George,”
Where to now?
George wasn’t sure what to do with Mikey. He was really pleased with him, he seemed to have dropped from the sky, almost fully formed, with a tiny bit of a back story, that could stay locked up for ever if it had to, or maybe…. well, it would be there if he needed it.ContinueContinue reading “Where to now?”
The man who wrote a real fiction
George realised that by giving his character a name that wasn’t his, he could easily open up a big space, he could stand back in safety and examine this new person. He decided to call him Mikey. No great thought went into it, George didn’t even know a Mikey, but somehow it was the firstContinueContinue reading “The man who wrote a real fiction”
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