From the scribblings of C. J. Black 30/8/13

Tongue firmly planted in cheek!!

This writing lark really is what you might call a grade “A” addiction
It could quite easily be likened to an infectious bug
Truly it could be cured, that is my prediction
By just taking your pen away, no need for any drug.

But what about the with drawl symptoms I hear you ask
Affects each individual differently it must be said
Some accept it quite easily, while for others it is not an easy task
Made so much simpler when your pen has no ink – much harder when your pencils full of lead!

We all have ambitions of writing a best seller
No point saying otherwise or we would not be performing here
Some have the ability to bend words akin to spoons in the hands of Uri Geller
While we try hard to create an illusion and at times charge the atmosphere.

C. J. Black∁β
13/08/2013 22:52:49

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From the scribblings of – C. J. Black.

The moment of impact.

Just as I was about to ask if the earth had moved for her – I heard this creaking sound.
Peering through strands of blonde hair I saw this large tree falling as if in slow motion.
Letting out a groan as in OMG – she looked at me smilingly and said – I never witnessed a groan like that before!!
Suddenly, it was upon us, but as luck would have it the car was parked in such a way the damage was to the rear end of the car which did not affect our getaway.
The photographer who took the photo blew our cover.

C. J. Black∁β
29/08/2013 20:26:26

From the scribblings of – C. J. Black.

All in a nights work. Flash Fiction. C. J. Black.
It was a nice quiet pleasant summers evening and as calm as could be expected in the confines of a hospital A & E department, but that was soon to change.
20.45 saw the arrival of an ambulance, the crew alighted and escorted their patient to the A & E reception desk. The person in question was well known to all staff members especially those at the Psychiatric Department, from his earlier visits.
As he was seated in a reserved area awaiting medical attention he was noted, as being quite ill at ease, security cameras had him under observation.
But as luck or ill luck would have it the attention of the security team was diverted by an incident in the vicinity of triage room.
While dealing with this situation, a member of the security team was alerted to a problem at the coffee shop in an area away from the A & E dept. by panic alarm activation, on reaching the area it was observed that this patient had got himself behind the service counter where Gemma & Eve, (not their real names) the two young staff members stood petrified.
As the officer in question had dealt with this individual before he was aware of the correct approach to take, taking the patient to one side they both sat and had a coffee and a brief chat, when the situation had calmed down, the officer left the patient to go and speak with both girls who were still in a state of shock.
After speaking with them for a few moments it became clear what the problem was, they informed him that the patient wanted to know if he presented them with his wife’s heart and liver would they do them in the microwave for him.
After making the appropriate phone call it was decided the two young ladies should be allowed off duty, they spent half an hour in the company of the hospital Chaplain before leaving for home.
The officer escorted a now calm patient back to the patient support room where they remained until the medical team accessed him.
While in the room the officer had to listen while the patient poured out his heart, he was telling how for the past few nights he could not sleep as each time he closed his eyes a vision of the devil would appear at the foot of his bed telling him if he went to sleep that he would die.
He proceeded to talk /ramble, saying that for breakfast that particular morning he had a joint, some pills, washed down by a large tumbler of whiskey – the officer thought to himself, He wonders then why he feels so depressed.
Finally, the time came for the patient to be assessed, it was while this was in progress that the police arrived, they had been alerted to an incident at a nearby neighbouring house of the patient, and on arrival made this grim discovery.
Two naked brutalised bodies lay on the kitchen floor, they would appear to have suffered a horrific death.
While back at the hospital the assessment continued, the psychiatric doctor, patient, and the security officer, oblivious to the fact of what was going on at the A & E reception desk.
It had taken what seemed an eternity but was really all of 20 minutes for a bed to be readied and medication prepared for the arrival of their patient to the psychiatric ward.
The police, after talks with the A & E consultant agreed to wait until the next day to question the patient, who they felt was really in no fit state to be interviewed by police or others for that matter.
Now that the Psychiatric department had been alerted to the fact that they may have a suspected killer on their hands the usual procedure had to be changed. The patient was ushered into the safe room where all actions could be monitored on camera by staff members.
Even though there was nothing to prove that their patient had anything to do with the death of what now turned out to be the bodies of two young married women, a policeman was detailed to sit by the secure room in the psychiatric department, questioning would take place in due course.
While back at the scene of the crime the investigation was under way.
Working through the uncommon quietness of the night, day break brought the sound of bird song, and the noise the extra volume of traffic made, as commuters made their way to work totally oblivious of what was going on behind the cordoned off area where the pathologist and other relevant bodies were carrying out their various duties.
Trying hard to establish some motive for this heinous crime, while others combed the area for the weapon or weapons that may have been used, or any clue that might lead them to discover the reason for such brutal killings.

C. J. Black∁β
28/08/2013 17:22:44
A wholly fictitious piece, any semblance of reality is just that. My attempt at a flash fiction piece warts and all, can be dissected, edited, added to or subtracted from by those interested, with more knowledge than I in this genre. I believe it’s called a collaboration?
Feel free in your comments to be as critical as you wish, otherwise I will never know whether I have done right or wrong. It’s a bad day that one does not learn something new. C. J. Black.

# A Weekly Offering. (12) C. J. Black.

At your wits end.

When you are at your lowest, this is not the time to quit
Stick to your guns fight the good fight when you’re hardest hit
You will turn failure on its head and turn things about
The battle will not be easily won – you will defeat it have no doubt.

These words came to me while sitting in a hospital ward
Medical staff tending to their duties – suddenly, someone pulls an emergency chord
A patient who is quite delirious shouts for their assistance
Feeling inadequate I moved away wishing to keep my distance.

It is only when witnessing actions like this at first hand
You appreciate fully the medics workload – their response, you’d think was planned
The patience that they show for each individual patient –
Florence Nightingales they all are each from heaven sent.

C. J. Black∁β
26/08/2013 09:07:52

From the scribblings of – C. J. Black

Ode to an Irish summer?

Rain hopping off the window pane – black dark @ 21:30 – Irish summer
Holidaying in a mobile home surely is no fun
B_B_Q still in boot of car – this really is a bummer
Consolation I guess – holiday nearly over instead of just begun.

The grammarians will be out in force with fire in their eyes
But do I really give a monkeys – sure as hell not
A nod now is as good as a wink – they’d steer clear if they were wise
Because at this moment with blood boiling I am hot to trot.

There is always somebody out there ready to nit pick
They are well advised to steer clear of me when we get bad weather
For not alone will they get a tongue lashing I’ll also give them some stick
(Following morning) –
Oh look the clouds have parted the sun is peeping through – time to contemplate the naval and pull myself together.
C. J. Black∁β
21/08/2013 21:43:04

From the scribblings of – C. J. Black.

A Poet without words equates to a Fish out of water.

Like a sailboat standing idly by
Is the writer – without words, staring into the abyss?
Its crew – without wind have no knots to tie
The poet with his blank canvas utters signals of distress.

But soon the wind will rise – then we can set sail
A light bulb begins to flash – there are words to be written
When we return be sure of this – with fishy stories you we will regale
The poet you see will never quit, by this bug he is bitten.

We’ll tell of waves that lashed our boat – how we braved the elements
You see one can write on subjects which they no absolutely nothing about
Those white horses out at sea turned out to be white elephants
And the poet can fill a page with trivia – for of that there never is a drought.

C. J. Black∁β
31/07/2013 12:50:16

# A Weekly Offering. (11) C. J. Black.

 

It’s just a poem.

 

 

 

Here’s the dilemma I find myself in

 

Do I publish all this “stuff” I’ve written or ditch it all in the bin?

 

I seem to be churning out more than I can handle

 

If I took it to the shredder would it really be a scandal?

 

The other option open to me is to get it into print

 

One of the drawbacks I see in this, it would cost me a solid mint.

 

 

 

Pure speculation on my part I know

 

But what satisfaction, to see your efforts on show

 

Just imagine, your own book of poems on sale for the public to purchase

 

Before this could ever happen to me you will see pigs flying in space

 

That is of course unless there’s somebody out there

 

Who’s willing to take a chance to publish and the profits share?

 

 

 

Before I reach my 200th WordPress published piece

 

I’ll have considered whether to continue or whether I should cease

 

I’d continue to write for my own satisfaction

 

If I don’t get some sort of a positive reaction

 

It’s not like I want to be famous or become a millionaire

 

But if I did, I promise I’d learn to swagger with flair.

 

OK so I’m really now getting into fantasy land

 

This is not how this poem was at all really planned

 

But as I have now set out my stall

 

I’ll go ahead and publish it, for I do recall –

 

A friend once saying to me why not write a book of poems for the “craic”

 

Now I’ve thrown out a feeler so there’s no going back.

 

 

 

C. J. Black∁β

 

19/08/2013 08:49:34

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Consternation. C. J. Black.

DRAT – The electricity has just gone on the blink
An omen maybe, for here I was looking for a poetic link.

Nature sure has the upper hand in the weather stakes
A thunder storm, a crash of lightening is all it really takes

To leave us groping in the dark, in a space we should know like the back of our hand
Instead we are left flapping as If sinking in quick sand.

Eventually you find the torch – but the battery has gone flat
You throw some swears in its direction – aim a kick at the purring cat!

Which drawer in which press are the candles stored?
Eventually you find them – no matches – well good LORD.

You stumble through the darkness in the direction of the “bog”
Trip over something motionless – damn it, the bloody dog.

He must have crept in behind you when you went to the front door
He like you is afraid of lightning flashes and do you know what’s more?

The poor animal is in total shock and trembling with fright
Of what you will see just what you stepped in when eventually there’s light.
Being good at solving riddles is no help in this predicament
Then as if by magic – electricity is restored – you take a look about you utter one word – EXCREMENT.

C. J. Black∁β
16/08/2013 10:42:31

A Limerick or three. C. J. Black.

Just for the heck of it!!

Thought I’d write me a Limerick or two
So some words I started to spew
It didn’t take long
Before I was on “song”
So here goes with my Limerick or two.

A Scots man dancing the Highland fling
Decided he also wanted to sing
On clearing his throat
To reach the high note
Showed his sporran or some other “thing”

Limericks sure are fun things to write
Especially when you get them exactly right
So go to it my friend
Then press the button and send
You can then let a squeal of delight.

C. J. Black

16th August 2013.