Bertie

I am an ardent fan of my favourite pastime, which is shouting at the wireless. I have mostly my own teeth and can still get myself to the bathroom without too many accidents. I prefer my wine both copious and red.

https://dailydrivelings.blogspot.com

1626

Writings

350

Followers

Following

Bertie

https://dailydrivelings.blogspot.com

1626

Writings

350

Followers

Following

Last

Bertie

1 min read

Empty field of eyes

laughter echoes down the line.

Wind claps just for me....

Poetry

Aged

Bertie

1 min read

Old man wanders far

moss remembers every step,

wind whispers his name....

Flint Makes a Pinch.

Bertie

2 min read

It was still raining, soft as a nonce’s confession, slicking the streets in a way that made every light look like it was weeping. Flint lit another cigarette with hands that didn’t shake, but, then again weren’t far off it. He leaned on the railings outside the tenement, watching the door. He knew who would come through it. Knew the lie they’d wrapped themselves in so tightly it must have burned t...

Reginald Has A Bad Day.

Bertie

1 min read

“If only this world had shown me a little more mercy,” muttered Reginald P. Snivelsworth, as he crouched behind a toppled fruit and veg cart, hat smouldering gently, watching the angry mob approach with a selection of improvised murder weapons, some random farm tools and at least one accordion.

It had not, by any standard, been his best afternoon.

The plan, Reginald’s plan, had been simple, eleg...

An Halieutic Reflection.

Bertie

1 min read

Old boat is creaking, lines are cast,

Chill morning mist is fading fast,

Warm memories come, they always last

Gone fishing, just like then.

Glass lake is still, blue sky is wide,

I hear my best pal at my side,

A boy again, with too much pride

Gone fishing, just like then.

Busy world grew loud and years blew through,

Those ones I loved, I sometimes knew,

But none so well as skies of blue

Gone fis...

Poetry

Tough

Bertie

1 min read

They say,

_Diamonds are beautiful, but they are also strong_

like my mum’s voice through the crack of dawn

when the rent’s too late but, hey, the coffee’s on.

Like the kid on the block with a broken shoe,

but a mind like a blade and dreams held true.

Beauty’s in that gloss, and it’s in the grind

pressure makes hard crystals, not the easy kind.

Cut sharp, cut again,

we’re shaped by the struggle,

...

Look It Up

Bertie

2 min read

I don’t claim any rightful ownership here, just imaginining. So no need to troll your lallies, it’s just a coddy screech..

1955. Two palones, **Mel** and **Jules**, are having a bit of a dish over their frothy coffees.

⸻

**MEL**

Varda Erin’s zhooshy story last nochy? Who _was_ that omi?

_(“Did you see Erin’s flashy story last night? Who was that man?”)_

**JULES**

Oh bona, I clocked her. A ri...

Light

Bertie

1 min read

Lone lighthouse warning,

fog envelopes castle cold

bright reflections pulse....

Poetry

Three Voices In Conversation.

Bertie

1 min read

I thought hearts were compass-steady.

Point north, follow love.

But I held two

and both pulled me sideways.

Clara is

home, gravity,

the place where my name doesn’t echo back empty.

Jamie is

lightning in a glass,

shattered rules and stolen breath.

I keep waiting for the truth to rise

like oil in water.

But it just sits there,

murky.

~~~

You talk like you’re lost,

but you’re just circling.

This ...

Poetry

Leonard Plays Cards.

Bertie

5 min read

Spindlethorpe (pop. 823, not including various itinerant pie salesmen), was becoming something of a dormitory suberb of Murkstone-Satchly. Its main attraction being that it was a town where the laws of nature mostly obeyed the rules. Well, except on Tuesdays, obviously, when nature takes a half-day and spends its valuable time lurking about at the pub instead.

It was Tuesday.

And on this partic...