profile image

Jayne Tethington

Email: areyououtthere@hotmail.com
Updated: Mon, 4 Feb 2008 10:05 pm

Contact via WOL

URL:

Biography

Empathetically observational, Jayne Tethington is an exciting new poet based in Ambleside, Cumbria. Jayne is also Co-founder of Poetic Justice, Ambleside.

Samples

Five-five-four to Carlisle, bar tat. The man could not fathom out the carton of juice It’s easy..! I’m grinding my teeth at the annoyance Just put the straw in the hole… I tune out to look at the spray painted Herdwicks The next time I look at the man, he’s asking the woman how the straw works She stares at him blankly as if she’s deaf, but trying to understand Put the straw in the hole… I can’t believe I’m getting bus rage from two seats behind I tune into my musical escape In the first moment of waking up You know she’s losing it She’s losing it…. They’re losing it The man has now somehow ripped open the carton and sipped at the juice whilst moving rhythmically to the bus The juice spills down all over his lovely Teflon jacket Thank god for Teflon or maybe it’s Marks and Sparks we should thank I turn away, to spot an unusual scene in the over-ploughed, muddy field that some Sheep, Seagulls, and Crows are eagerly picking through Why doesn’t the Farmer move them? The woman is also wiping herself Cranberry juice drips off of her over powdered chin Vampyresqe! She too could not understand the carton. Thirty minutes has passed, and so have most of Belle and Sebastian’s harmonies as I look towards the road and on past the fields of my destination I see the buildings piercing the horizon My journey has been far from worth the money But I know I’ll miss this bus, the five-five-four to Carlisle, without a dunnie ********************************************** Moon cup men My ovaries are my enemy They are my eternal life They are a secret turmoil An illicit bitter wife “For richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health” They bind me with their suffocating notions Of supposed fruitful wealth From the start of the burning The secretion of the yearning The cortisone starts learning to rise Testosterone blunders Progesterone slumbers Oestrogen in abundance The Androgens, not the Indians, are what causes me the angst they run circles round my mind, my blood, my chance of some sanity and sense of normality I wonder if it will ever be mine My ovaries are my equal They are powerful and divine They are the future Playing their part in human kind So this dysfunctional marriage Of joy and despair “‘Til death do us part” I love you Take care *********************************************** Lone Ranger So this is how it feels To be in a wondrous daze Along with the caged, and the Humpbacked Whales The buzz it leaves my puzzled maze My mind is now burning, aching to be in my own light For if I was to be just in time for the others They’d take notice They’d take notice like when the Moon shimmers on the lake When the Mallard follows the Drake Mallard, I bet he’s well hard! I bet he takes no shit from the Swan, with his arrogant wit When I was at school I was always the first to listen But the last to be heard The first thing I needed Was to pull the other cord Cords were seen as retro Easy wearing Like the Metro Everyone wanted me They needed my company When did they realise? Why did they try? Everyone eventually takes over and promises are made to make that person feel better about themselves Make their conscience clear Well, I’m not that bothered about your get out clause I’m not that interested in opening your doors So now I’m back in favour People have seen my light They want to keep warm by my energetic fight Tough! I’ve decided that I like my island best It’s Bounty, and it’s Turkish Delight ************************************************ Middle Earth, A Hobbits Tale. Fly eyes stare back at me, bold and brash, bringing unity amongst the middle earth masses. “Easy to identify “ they say “well remembered” “symbolic in nature”! Feeding the greed of all social classes. Music fills the air amongst the chatter, but so does ignorance, intolerance and bad manners for that matter. Still I love this place, But only for kicks, I miss its welcoming energy, diversity and hedonistic pulses Pasty faces and dark circles “Would you like some more grease with your grease, maybe some processed peas.” Polystyrene cup with extracts of real tea! Consumerism sets the pace, insanely disposable that’s this place. Convenience is not lenient with the earth, neither is the boredom of a teenage birth I weep at the waste and the wasted, the cost, the coffee; the people all highly inflated The rich and the poor are all ill fated. So here breeds a chemical nation, so wonderfully preserved with all the radiation Still, I do miss this place, There and back again A hobbits race! ************************************************ Diffriction Addiction is a depiction of future friction, and past affliction from Non fictional, demolition of the contradiction that is, being of a needy disposition, or simply showing a separation of us, and the animal kingdom.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Viewed 1956 times since 23 Sep 2007

Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.

Comments

Profile image

Tomás Ó Cárthaigh

Sun 13th Apr 2008 01:48

Ive seen a few moments like the one where the man cant figure out how the orange joice straw works. Funny how images such as that stick in your mind... love the poems.

View all comments

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message