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 Category:  General Poetry
  Posted: April 18, 2015      Views: 49

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Currently reviewing my objects in life, so writing is taking a back seat, it's kicked into the long grass, it's having a break, it's finding some space, it's looking for stronger roots, it's thinking up a new tune to pl - more...

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Anaesthesia style poem about Spring
"Unexpected Encounter" by RichardFann

Unexpected Encounter

Seeing the path of quietness by the river Ouse.

The air is full of crushed wild garlick.

My heart thumping in anticipation, when

A loud gong sounds in my ears, falling

Falling, falling, and dandelions jumping

Into my mouth, tasting of a strange passion,

Gasping, floating, kaleidoscope, green,

Yellow, the texture of stars, tentacles


In my pocket a sense of jumbles, then again,

A slipping away, a taking by one in authority.

A hand across my chest, feeling, and

My mobile slipping away, needed

By someone in authority. What right?

I have no right. Transgressed. Humbled.

Eating star shapes, blades, and crumbled

Gritty brown.

Unspeaking, unmoving, unseeing, but feeling

Fading footsteps, pounding, vibrating in my head,

Red clouds merge into purple, green,

Blue, spots of yellow, then black.

Greyness and blackness, throbbing.

Where is my wife?

Where is my first? Has she gone?

My second, my third, drift around me.

What where why

Do they not speak or greet me?

But fade in, fade out.

The kaleidoscope spins

Blurring, congestimating,

Flouridatomising my dreamambulator,

Chirrupannealising, acri-re-amputating,

And concustopendulating my system of

Cocongenital-epicentre chloristic ideas

And summatogondalistic wavycrazing.

A hotti-licky my noseymouth forred

An ohmagoddikittens, redcrimson drippings,

Am callingambulansicator, quickspeeding down

Nohesitating, Oakenpingate lane, lapsing,

Losing, going...

Ping, ping, ping.

Who is he, who is he?

Disinfectant, clean white pillow,
Sounds ...

And vision coming round,

Retracing an unknown tributary

And joining mainstream again.

“Bring, bring is here a water me glass?”


Author Notes
The words are deliberately made up to indicate
someone in semi-consciousness and disorientated.

This is Poem 2.

Poem 1 is called Foam and Anger.

The task is for me to write a poem about Spring using synaesthesia,
which you can look up.

This is my homework from the Ashby writers' workshop this week.

Please advise me if this is better
then the next poem, called Unexpected Encounter.

You see I have done two poems,
but must choose only one.


Thanks for the pic.
Pays one point and 2 member cents. Artwork by suzannethompson2 at

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