Archive | June, 2016

Little boxes (a poem)

29 Jun

Wed, 22 May 2013

Little boxes, little boxes,
full of shoes and socksies,
straight from little boxes.

Full of bix and chocksies,
scoffing in our socksies,
out of little boxes.

Also lots of clocksies,
going ticks and tocksies,
inside little boxes.

All in little boxes, crazier than foxes.

Forget fezes or bowties. Boxes are cool ;-P

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What Will I Be? (poem)

29 Jun

17 Feb 2013

What Will I Be?

What will I be when I grow up?
A fireman, a soldier, a candlestick holder.
What will I be when I grow up?
A driver, a drover, a man who falls over.
What will I be when I grow up?
A tinker, a tailor, a world famous sailor.
What will I be when I grow up?

I will never grow up, just older.

Portait Of A Manger (flash fic)

29 Jun

5/7/12
Portait Of A Manger

The stable was getting pretty crowded.

A handful of shepherds had brought some sheep, they’d wanted to give a fleece, maybe some Lanolin but eventually decided to offer their best wishes as they truly were a bunch of cheap bastards.

“That is one cute baby” said Balthazar, a Wise Man.

“He is pretty cute. Got his mothers eyes.” said Melchior, another Wise Man.

“Isn’t he adorable?” asked Mary, the childs mother.

“Look,” said Gaspar, yet another Wise Man. “I consider myself to be a pretty clever bloke. He’s a fairly cute little thing but I am not going to be forced into saying he’s adorable. No-one, I repeat, NO-ONE is going to make me adore the little shite. And if that’s going to be an issue then I’m taking my Frankincense and I’m going to bugger off back East.”

That killed the conversation stone dead.

Gaspar grabbed his Frankincense and left them with one final thought as he left. “Screw you guys, I’m going home!”

THE END

The One Ring (flash fic)

29 Jun

The One Ring
19/11/12

It’s the place all fighters come to eventually. Regardless of their experience, everyone will fight here at least once. For the less fortunate, at the most, once.

Don’t say you aren’t a fighter, never ever tell them that. It’s the one surefire thing to make them pick you for the very next bout. Lie if you must, say you’ve been fighting for years, say you’ve been winning for years.

But never make the most fatal mistake. Never tell them you’re unbeaten. Or it’s your turn next.

I can hear them announcing the next fight now. It’s not for me. I’ve already won my bout for today, I get to live to fight another day.

It’s for you. Die well, stranger.

THE END

You Don’t Know Jack (a poem)

29 Jun

You Don’t Know Jack (c) Ray Daley
17/10/12

This is the castle that Jack stole.
This is the cat that starved on the mat that died in the castle that Jack stole.
These are the bones that rotted alone, that stood in the castle that Jack stole.
That was the goose laying Golden eggs sliced open in greed & totally dead inside the castle that Jack stole.
There stands the wreckage that once was a beanstalk that led to the castle that Jack stole.
Remember the castle that Jack stole.

Because the winners write the stories.

Oh No They Don’t! (A Flash Fiction Story)

29 Jun

28 Jun 2012

“Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” she sang to herself as she looked out of the window at the night sky.

“That’s wrong” said a male voice from behind her.
“What is?” she asked.

“Stars, they don’t twinkle” he said. “It’s the constant orbit of large solid celestial bodies such as planets in front of them blocking their light source intermitantly. It’s an optical illusion, easily explained. They merely appear to twinkle”

“Oh,” she said. “Another dream ruined.”

The Element Of Doubt

29 Jun

11 May 2010

“Welcome to Element Of Doubt Burger, how may I help you?”.
“Whats the element of doubt?”.
“If I’m going to spit in your food or not. Should I expect a tip?”.
“Yeah, eat elsewhere”.