Forbidden

Forbidden

Life’s full of many hidden dangers

Against which there are warnings and rules,

Regulations, barriers and notices,

Talking down to us like we’re just fools.

The prohibited list is endless,

Leaving us feeling stupid and flat.

So many things are forbidden:

Don’t do this, and don’t do that.

On the roads, there are codes,

Like speed limits we can agree,

But so many minor infringements

Seem counter-productive to me.

There’s fines, if you disobey guidelines:

No Entry, No Parking, No Turning,

There’s too much to keep up with,

Easy to get wrong, but we’re learning.

It’s a pain, on buses and trains,

Though it’s fitting, they only allow sitting,

And again, I’m very supportive,

Of there being No Swearing, or Spitting.

It’d be choking, if they allowed smoking,

Some people’s behaviour’s not good,

But we’ve got to draw the line somewhere,

Common sense needs be understood.

You don’t need a sentry, to deny people entry,

Security posts make jobsworths lonely,

They don’t need to shout, to keep people out,

Just “Authorised Personnel Only”.

We’ve all tried, to get past “Access Denied”,

Cycling Prohibited, Beware Of The Dog

Non-transferable, Not Suitable For Children,

No Cameras, No Entry, Slow Down For The Fog.

Use some gumption, on “Not Fit For Human Consumption”,

Prescription drugs you shouldn’t abuse,

For you’ve got to be careful with medicines,

Especially those marked “Only For External Use”.

Do Not Drive or Operate Machinery,

Don’t get too close, or put up your nose,

Things that you shouldn’t

And Never Exceed The Maximum Dose.

Let not the State, try to over-regulate.

So, let’s have no if’s and no but’s -

We can work it out for ourselves

When it’s case of “May Contain Nuts”.

Here’s an Unexpected Item In The Bagging Area -

And here is the moral delivered to you:

Haven’t we got our own sense?

Is there anything we can be trusted to do?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Skin

Skin

This covering, this wrapper I’m within,

This infection barrier,

Protector, keeper of my guts,

Which holds my everything inside,

Stopping me from spilling out upon the floor

And from pouring myself away,

Is under attack,

Both night and day

Infected, itchy, red, rough,

Sore, dry, cracked and broken skin,

A delicate tracery of lines,

A network of flaking layers,

Pieces to be picked and peeled,

Revealing bare tissue below,

Bleeding into crevices,

Creases, valleys and folds

Between fingers and toes,

Dry hair, crumbling nails

Leaving shrinking islands

Of a barely-working epidermis

Oily ointments, greasy creams

And emollient treatments

Penetrate the dermic strata

With cellular, capillary action

Until they quite are absorbed within

Gently rubbing, scratching, stroking,

Smoothing, soothing,

Bathing, seeking brief respite

From this never-ending torment

And the tiny blisters bursting, erupting,

Spreading further poison

Throughout my failing system

Condemned to live within this atopic cell,

Torture-chamber of a thousand tiny cuts,

Prisoner of a painful pathology,

Chronic, never-ending condition

Making forever unthinkable

Any contact with another human body

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Pears Poached in (Marsala) Wine

Recipe for: PEARS POACHED IN RED/ MARSALA WINE

Ingredients:

• 4-6 firm pears
• 750ml robust red wine (or sweet marsala)
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 3 cloves
• Pinch nutmeg
• 1 pared orange zest
• 2 tblsp redcurrant jelly (or 2oz/ 50g caster sugar if using marsala)
• 200g brown sugar
• 1 vanilla pod (if using marsala wine)

 Method:

1. preheat oven to 150C/ fan 130C
2. in a flameproof casserole(preferably one of the right size to take the pears standing upright – but see below), put all the ingredients except the pears & bring to a simmer
3. meanwhile peel the pears carefully, leaving the stalks intact
4. add the peeled pears to the poaching liquid
5. cover, then put into the oven for 1½ - 2 hours, depending on size & ripeness
6. when cooked, remove the pears with a slotted spoon to a warmed serving dish
7. put the casserole with the cooking liquor back onto the hotplate & reduce the liquid until it reaches a syrupy consistency
8. strain the liquid over the pears to make them look glossy

 What else you need to know:

1. serve hot from the oven, or after chilling in the fridge
2. serve with cream, crème fraiche or yoghurt
3. you can keep the pears whole, or as halves, depending on the effect you want to achieve

Shack

Shack

Charred remains, burnt stick’d tinder from which

the shack was fashioned, hidden

within the hollow, below beech trees, deep

inside the wood, where his body was found

still cradled within his den.

His place now open to the sky, gaping, where the roof once was,

a door, a corrugated iron sheet, tattered tarpaulin, old palings

rope-shackled, and wire that formed his rural refuge.

His suburban semi only miles away, his wife

and children waiting, unable

to understand what eccentric whim

drove him to live this way, abandon

comfort and company, to bury himself

in muddy abode, freezing

in the depth of winter, half-starving

alone in the back-woods.

Alcohol and cigarettes to numb

the pain, and pass the time,

a camping stove, a naked flame to cook

and warm the fingers, to keep at bay

damp and mould, the essential tools

of staying alive, catching alight, spreading

flames or fumes, smoke or steam becoming

the agency of his unseen death.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Remaindered

Remaindered

No longer upright like soldiers,

Neatly shelved, spines straight-stacked,

Alphabetical order, fiction authors A to Z,

But tumbled, piled at random,

Stickered, scattered, reduced, remaindered,

Bargain bin, basement bucket,

Rough treatment at many hands,

Edges knocked, jackets torn,

Dirty, dusty, fingered and forgotten,

Marked and marked down,

With no dignity or ceremony at the end of life.

More space is needed

To make way for the new stuff,

The spirit of today, what’s happening now,

Celebrity authors and TV tie-ins,

Titles that sell, units that shift,

The next thing, the new wave,

Modern, fashionable, exciting,

Where it’s at, de nos jours,

Moving with the times,

The zing of the zeitgeist,

The ring of the till.

No room for the out-of-print,

Except out of the way,

Out of sight, out of mind,

Deleted from the catalogue,

The stock-code and the index,

A lingering demise,

And a delayed disposal,

Awaiting final solution,

Dumped, shredded, pulped,

The bulk commodity of paper.

A never-borrowed nor ever-bought,

Unread volume,

No reviews, no royalties, no renown,

He handles a copy, thumbing pages,

Familiar with every word,

The effort it cost him,

Regretful, bitter,

Flees from the bookshop, the door left flapping.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Mouse

Mouse

Alerted by the noise,

the unmistakeable sound of victory,

Growling, howling, crying, mewling,

his voices mixed together.

Whether pleased with himself

or ashamed of what he’s done,

The hunter stands defiant

astride the tiny bloody body.

Chased away, scolded, shouted at,

he makes a quick escape,

leaving his trophy

To renew his hunt out in the field,

driven by his nature,

a feral instinct to track and pounce

upon creatures smaller than himself,

Some warmer, living food.

Meanwhile, prey discarded,

Its eyes glittering in terror,

Its body still warm,

snout and tail intact,

mangled limb, gory gash exposed,

life-force seemingly expired,

Lies inert beneath the table.

Only left alone for seconds

while collecting kitchen paper,

rubber gloves, dust-pan, disinfectant,

paraphernalia of removal and disposal

of a corpse unwanted

Intended for a bin, not a burial.

But the deathplace now deserted,

the body gone,

disappeared elsewhere,

smears of blood and body fluids,

shining, wet, fresh,

Crawled away in agony and fear,

to hide and tremble

in place unknown

to look out, spying upon the world,

Watching and waiting,

for a slow and lingering demise.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 25th August 2013

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 25^th August 2013

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

1.       The terrible civil war in Seend continues, with residents of Bromham looking nervously over the border.  Debates continue as to whether to arm the carrot-picking rebels, as they fight to oust the parsnip-wielding majority.  No-one is sure whether the ruling elite have yet crossed the line of baler twine in the South Field.  Debates were held in Bromham Parish Council, but they failed to produce any binding resolutions.

2.       Ted Willeybanned, Leader of the Carrot-Rooters Action Party (CRAP) has been encouraged to spell out his policies more clearly, and to “shout louder” in local politics.  Mr Willeybanned questioned the logic of doing this, but members of his party assured him that it was the only way to get served on a Friday night in the back bar of The Wounded Ferret.

3.       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013