Editor Christopher Writes – A Poem A Day For A Year: 24/01/5

Today has been another good day. I finally made the big leap and got WordPress Premium. We got some email accounts set up with the @bunburymagazine domain name. I think I went a little bit over board with that. I did however stop short at creating bunburymagazine@bunburymagazine.com! We do have advertising@, submissions@. admin@, marketing@ and then personal ones for our dedicated Bunbury workers, for the massive team that we are *ahem* four *ahem* So we’re getting new business cards made, and looking into chapbooks and pricing up printing and what not. We’re going all professional!

I start a new job on Monday too. Now I now longer work there, I can tell you that the place I did work at that caused me to seek therapy, go on anti-depressants and generally not feel like me lately was a bookmaker’s. I’m not giving the name of which exact one because I am still to receive my final pay-cheque! Don’t get me wrong, as far as jobs go, it is the easiest one I have done to date. Most of the people who come in are great to talk to, I genuinely like sports and it was just a nice atmosphere to be in..until the last few months. The company lost a lot of financial backing and with the government (rightly) starting to clamp down on gambling, there is a deep fear rife in the place. Obviously, that all stops at the very tip-top of the pile and gets more aggressively passed down the further down it comes.

Our area manager would set us unrealistic targets for product selling throughout the course of the day. It’s a bookie’s! It’s not a call centre. People do not come in to be constantly harangued into buying things they do not want or need. The fact we had to do this actually drove a lot of regular customers away. It was not good business. If we did not hit these targets, we would get nasty phone calls and emails telling us our jobs are on the line. The area manager was also of the opinion that if someone is a little unsure about a new initiative within the company, regardless of the length of service, he would rather sack them and hire someone new rather than give a little training. How does that even make sense? Surely training an established employee is much easier and cheaper than hiring someone brand new to the company? I mean, there’s a f**k of a lot more training involved in a new starter. The man is a cretin. One day, I may dig out the resignation letter I handed in and show it to you all.

What else is going on? Oh, we have a poetry tomorrow in Bury at the Two Tubs for an alternative Burn’s night which should be a lot of fun! There is going to be tatties and neeps and haggis and knife fights I imagine. I know there is at least one Glaswegian going so I’ll be wearing a stab-proof vest. She is actually a really good friend so I may come away with just a nick to the earlobe. Fingers crossed!

Then on Monday we are heading into Manchester City Centre for Verbose. We are featuring them and their performers in the next issue of Bunbury. David Gaffney is going to be there. This is something I am very excited about as well. I studied him at university and he is the man who got me into writing flash fiction. I really hope he agrees to an interview. I may wet myself if he does!

Enough gab anyway. this has been quite an upbeat post for me today. For this length anyway. Normally when they get over 400 words they become morose, dull and wittering. Or misguidedly and uninformedly political. Not today though. Life is good. I have a beer and a mouth full of Toblerone. The high life is being lived!

Here is a poem. the prompt word for tonight is ‘ephemeral’.

One night when I was tucked up in bed,

the wind howling and screaming outside,

out of nowhere a voice came into my head

to tell me it knew I had lied.

A thin, sleeking light slipped into the room,

sifting in through cracks in old wood.

Eventually it chased the gloom

away to the edges, to cower in nooks.

The light started to shape itself before me,

becoming a vision of things that had past.

When the change was complete, I could now see

what it had transformed into at last.

She had long, glowing hair right down to her shoulder,

dripping blood in waves onto her breast.

She looked me in the eye and I felt myself grow colder

as I noticed that she was still dressed

in the same clothes she wore on that fateful day

when both our worlds came to an end.

Through tautened lips she then began to say

‘You can no longer pretend

That you were the innocent one.

That someone else robbed me of life.

You were the one who pointed the gun

and brought on an eternity of strife.

I cannot pass on, stuck here in limbo

forever. You sealed my fate.

You killed me. You killed me. So now you must know

what terrible things are your fate.

I shall wait here until the day that you die,

Waiting to snatch up your soul.

When you’re in my grasp, you will beg me and cry

as I cast you to hell, that fiery hole.

But for now, sleep my dear. All that lies before you.

I don’t want to cause you distress.

Simply drift back to sleep and I’ll drift off too.’

And with that, she simply left.

Now traces of flickering light did linger,

the gloom simply filled up the void.

Though before darkness fell once again, a small glimmer

flashed into my sight. I stood and I toyed

with what she left behind.

The bullet that killed her.

One thought crept into my mind.

This was a constant reminder.

6 thoughts on “Editor Christopher Writes – A Poem A Day For A Year: 24/01/5”

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