the white dress

Reblogged – If you haven’t read whocouldknowthen – please go and have a look at how this man writes. This piece brought me to tears tonight.

who could know then

this is the second
in a series of
3 poems

1) the improbability of us
a beautiful instrumental to read by.

the white dress
i found that photo of you…
like all the serendipitous details
of this twelve year improbable union….it appeared,
falling through time when i wasn’t looking…
face up, lightly to the floor…
i stood there…
in my infinite moment….lost
before reaching, soft cradling all
its significance in these large hands…
retracing the conflicted memory of that day…
the surface scratched,
its edges curling and slightly frayed…
the years hidden in a drawer… in between,
taking its inevitable toll…and yet,
there you were… always.
looking over your shoulder,
peering into everything i ever was…
reassuring my every mistake and imperfection…
reminding me, to myself…because there were days then,
i relied on you…

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ech no other title just ech

I started writing some poetry – using different forms, this afternoon, but alas my brain was not wanting to go along for the ride, so the feeble attempt sits in my drafts folder.

I think I am slowly going out of my mind here with boredom – I know the signs, in fact you all probably know my signs by now, from past experiences.  I have been here before. When out of work, late last year, all was rosy in the first few weeks, though not physically going anywhere, it was like being on holiday.  I only wish my mind would  drift me onto a sandy beach with palm trees and a Mojito in hand, sadly it is not wanting too, nor are my finances.

It just held me captive staring at the computer for the longest time,  knowing that I could be writing something of substance, to while away the hours of my boredom, but in the end I couldn’t even manage that.

I looked up at the ceiling and silently screamed,  for it was a beautiful sunny afternoon and all I could muster was to mow the lawns (again). For the first time that I can remember I went and lay on the couch and I think I fell asleep for 20 minutes. That is not like me, I never have naps.

I woke, watched 3 episodes of Breaking Bad with Mr. S and have walked back into my study.  Sorry for the doom and gloomy contents of this post – just in a weird mood right now…but tomorrow is another day.

when the concrete cracks underfoot
my body sinks as does my mind
it vanishes in to the crevice from
the last day till the now and I
lose that in-between, the time
that spun now drags like hauling
heavy bags of clay
get to the end, so I can begin
get to the end, so I can start
get to the end, to stop myself
from slithering

A Nonet from me to you

A Nonet.     A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc… until line nine finishes with one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.


I am blessed to pen my thoughts for you
words from my heart upon the page
hiding nothing ~ sharing all
I open wide my soul
to give all of me
the good ~ the bad
simple truth
no lies

©jmtacken Sep 2013

A little interlude from Poetry – my weekend

and it’s time my good readers for my WEEKEND PAST post, we will resume with current broadcasting of poetry, 3 word prompts and the like tomorrow.

My weekend  ~ well let’s see.

  1. Out for dinner on Saturday night to a Chinese Restaurant. Since we discovered Thai & Vietnamese cuisine sometime back, we don’t frequent the Chinese Restaurants as we have in the past, but in saying that we were pleasantly surprised with the quantity, quality and price of the food. 6 of us, entrees all round, 6 main dishes plus the fried rice (have to have the fried rice) with a total cost of $220.00. I shall let you do the math, but it was very reasonable.
  2. Saturday afternoon (which I really should have written about first) I completed my recording of my Eulogy reading that I had to also write.  Now apart from the fact (mere technicality really) that I perhaps mention the words, death, die and dying too many times, I was very pleased with the result. Yes, readers I am patting myself on the back. I shall be handing in the USB to the trainer in the morning for her to assess, which she said could take anywhere up to 2-3 weeks… I am not happy about this as I have been out of work since the end of July and I am wanting to make headway into my new career as soon as possible, but will my grumbling hasten the process, no, so I shan’t.
  3. Today (Sunday) Mr. S and I took Pop to the Caribbean Market (remember the one that sells the machetes and blades)  as we purchased some ink cartridges for our printers last weekend and of course…they don’t work. Mr. Vendor behind the counter was wanting to offer us $5.00 back (as he had never had any complaints before) erm we paid $20, so I stuck to my guns (no I don’t own one, don’t be silly) and said no we want to exchange them.  A disgruntled Mr. Vendor swapped them over and we were off to the fruit and veg stand.  What I haven’t mentioned is that the market car park is some considerable distance from the entrances and Pop had told me he wanted to go. When we arrived at their place to pick him up I said to Mr. S it will be quicker if I just grab his cartridges and change them. Opening the front door, there he was all dressed up ready for his outing…he looked so cute, how could we say no. Fortunately we were given a wheelchair that Mr. S’s mum used, so Pop sat like the King being pushed around by a puffy face Mr. S and we finished the shopping.
  4. Lastly on the weekend agenda, I have started writing a book, the title (at this juncture) How I became a Funeral Celebrant. Now if that isn’t going to spur me on,  nothing will… I figured this is what I have set my heart on doing and hoping to succeed so why not start writing a book about the how’s, why’s and wherefores’ of how I started in this industry.


That is it dear readers, if you got through my Weekend Past blurb again, I thank you. Tomorrow is Monday in Aussie Land and Spring is finally showing with an expected temperature of 27C – yes I am excited ..another day of writing (and possibly weeding) ahead and trying to seek out part time employment ( that I am SO not interested in obtaining) but which may be required to help my depleting bank balance.


Hope you enjoy my tags 🙂

How did I love thee (Prose from 3 words)

cough, conflict, control these 3 words have been sent from  Sarah Ann – thank you and I hope that you enjoy.

sitting cross legged on the bed
sheets crumpled underneath
I watch the candle flames
burn their brightness
with the smell of frankincense
I hold you in my arms
I have the control it seems
to do with you as I please and I
cough a little excitedly
for what that means to me


I hold you tight, you don’t resist
lying comforted in my embrace
which is different from the past
few weeks,  when all we did was fight
but now there is no conflict
as I am in control, who would have
thought I’d spike your drink
allowing you to fall
ssshh ~  it will be alright my love
there is nothing you should fear
though now that you paralysed
revenge is near
so let me hold your hand ~ I swear
you won’t feel any pain
just let me heat the knife once more
and slice into your vein


©jmtacken Sept 2013

Gaffa Tape (Prose – from 3 words)

news, dragons, tides – these 3 words have been given to me to indulge my muse and I. They are from the delightful and extremely funny  –


what is new in your world
the question asked, whilst looking down upon
his ashen face
what say you hmmmm ~ you cannot speak
I know that seems unkind, your lips are sealed
and I be thought a dragon in your eyes

BUT I do not take kindly to the type
of man you are, the evilness you thought
that you could hide, I'm sorry that you are
buried with just your head exposed, but I'm glad
I'll see you panic in your final hours

so maybe when the tape is stripped
you'd be best to close your mouth
for the tides I see them coming in
I don't pray for a slow death

Leap – (Prose 3 words)

Leap, surprise, faith these 3 words are from   Sorry for the delay in this one, it was more a challenge than I first thought.

Sarah  and my readers, I hope that you enjoy.


A surprise to learn my leap of faith
would be to tumble into your arms
against all better judgement; clearly I have none
however your embrace seems the most comforting

Why? because I know you, infinitesimal trust
your arms outstretched almost pleading
saying I’d be safe; cajoling with soft words
~ to simply cross that line

but I have been there once before ~ trusted
if memory serves me right; physical scars none
but you created reservations of who I was
and yet ~ I wish to fall again, perhaps in the hope
you’ve changed

so, you can walk me down this path again
convince me of no ridicule or seething taunts
but this time unbeknown to you
I bring a safety net ~ in case I accidentally fall

©JMTacken Sep 2103

Earth – (Prose from 3 words)

My next challenge of 3 words has been given to me by a very dear girlfriend of mine that I have known for many, many years.  You can find her at:-

Her words are – wound, earth, silence


Wound fractures
open mother earth
in silence waits

what will become of her

heated months lazer
frozen waters
melting under rays

and where will her children go

waves skyscraper
consuming, devouring
dragging into watery graves

those she nurtured from her soil

wounded sky
wounded core
deafening silence

breathe mother earth

while you can
no band-aid will heal
the crevice is too deep

©jmtacken Sept 2103



There’s a storm ‘a coming, she double takes
the barometer, arrows it to be
always reliable; no doubts on days she reads
yet outside her sparkling window
shines skies of blue, clouds of white
where’s the storm pray tell

tumbling greys, foreboding winds gyre
across the fields, lightening spike fires
remembering from her past, she taps the glass
the arrow stays, casts off her pinny
station switch, for the man to give
the forecast

barometers on the blink; she ‘tsk tsks’
and dry cloths the watered sink
back turned; dusts the faces looking back
at her within the photo frame
their ‘two’ smiles engulf the room till
a knock against the door, she heaves a heavy sigh
fingers comb her straggly locks

not expecting company, who would venture
out, with a storm about to hit
probably Mrs. Jones, ‘cup of sugar’
‘have you milk’
she feels a push to chest
steps tripped back, hand strikes hard
against her cheek, steel is cold
it rests upon her throat
‘don’t fight bitch’ yells the
guttural voice ‘or you can
kiss those kids good-bye’

seems the arrow was correct

*Critique welcome


This contribution is for   Tony who is hosting  wrote these first few lines

“I have a dark and dreadful secret,” writes Stephen Fry in the foreword of his book The Ode Less Travelled. “I write poetry.”

This morning when my eyelids fluttered open this sprung into my head..

Poets can be: Sentimental, fastidious, sensitive, eccentric, pompous, sexual, smart, naive, disciplined, playful,  introverted, extroverted, humble, proud, rebellious, conservative, passionate, open, imaginative, controlling, manic, depressed, apathetic, humorous, pessimistic, ashamed, optimistic, engaging, productive, promiscuous, indulgent, vivacious, enthusiastic, independent and creative!

People who don’t write Poetry can be: Sane

Nomadic nights

silent, dark and moth

These words were given to me from as an inspiration to write the other evening and I had nothing… I now write the below (I probably still have nothing) but I’m giving it a try, I am letting my thoughts flow a little more. Critique welcome.


fingers splintering on bare wood
the night, eyes closed ~ except through
my third eye,  the centre of my brows

early hours are silent,  bar the tinkering
ivories that draws me from unconscious sleep
dreams will not be ReMembered
when I wake yet still I wonder

violins draw close, like moths
fluttering, movement; bow on strings
music helps my flight, as I drift or am I deep
in slumber now

wings circle overhead escaping from the birds
hush morning do not come to soon
I am in the woods, a far off place
morning will enter, UNknowingly disturb

spin… SPin  hallucinating?
rest, tortuous circles upon the pillow
REALity or not, dreams,  nightmare
bring me back to violins and
the black and white

so that I may rest tonight


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