It’s The Fall That’ll Kill Ya

17 Dec
trip and fall down carefully

Image by jimmiehomeschoolmom via Flickr

…No it’s not – my big brother tells me it’s the sudden stop at the end that does the damage. 

My day started out great when Tory Boy called for a chat at seven-fifteen a.m. – the doctor appears to have sorted his sleep issues; he was up at six-thirty and wide-awake enough to chat.  Then it was time to see Spud off for his last day of term. 

As he put on his shoes he suddenly remembered that he wanted a gift for his teacher.  I ran upstairs to grab a card and gift bag and downstairs to grab an emergency box of chocolates (one of those helpful gender-neutral standby gifts you can always find a use for after Christmas).  I so wish I wasn’t careful with the electricity…the hallway was dark and I charged straight into Spud’s school bag and flew face-first into the floor.

I lay there in the dark, blubbing like a baby, all the while thinking I looked like a starter chalk outline kit; all Spud could do was bleat an appalled, ‘Mum!  Mum!’  I snarled at him to put on the light and my brother (who is visiting us) helped me up once the dogs had stopped licking me.

MY CHILDREN SHOULD SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH: I wasn’t really hurt, if I don’t count my sudden and pronounced limp, and carpet burns (sigh – I remember when carpet burns could be collected in a fun way).  No affront to my dignity because I haven’t had any for years.

OKAY, BOYS: IT’S SAFE TO LOOK AGAIN.  Spud went off to school in a subdued mood.  Having an artistic temperament*, and not wishing to hurt his mother more than is teenagerly needful, he was upset by what happened.  He sent me a text – ‘sorry’ – and I replied with a cheerful ‘Well at least I’ve got something to blog about this morning’.  His ‘ok’ that came back tells me his last day at school will be miserable.  Remember, he’s a hair shirt kinda guy.

He is also a little indignant: I have been nagging for months about where he leaves his bag in the hall on his way in and out of the house (it stays in his room but he has morning and evening rituals that necessitate the leaving of large objects where people can fall over them) and he had actually made an effort this morning to put it out of harm’s way, but I came at it from an unusual angle.  It’s not his fault if he does as he’s told and someone gets hurt.

*stroppy

*

I really enjoyed last night’s Royal Variety Performance.  Here’s a clip:

*

This week’s Big Tent prompt was somewhat convoluted; here’s an extract:

 The form is comprised of two sections. One is titled “The Dead Man and …” and the second “More About the Dead Man and … .” All lines are written as sentence lines and enjambment matters quite a bit. The first two lines generally turn back on each other. The two versions seem to discover or expose different things about the Dead Man, one more internal in nature, the other external.

It didn’t grab me so I did my own thing:

*

The Dead Man And Me

The Dead Man has nothing to say.
I much prefer it that way.
I like my corpses mute;
don’t you?

*

*

There’s a series of three linked poems on the South African seasons on my other blog:  http://sapoems.wordpress.com/

Please pop over to take a look!

 

 

 

24 Responses to “It’s The Fall That’ll Kill Ya”

  1. alienhippy December 17, 2010 at 11:41 #

    Hi Tilly…..you do make me giggle.
    Carpet burns…hehehe.
    It’s funny how it’s always the dogs who show the first concern innit?
    You sound just like me…constantly looking for anything blog-worthy. My kids cringe about the camera coming out with us now. I just tell them to suck it up and enjoy the fame….lol
    Oh crap…I can’t believe I missed The Royal V. O.M.Goodness what planet is my head on at the moment.

    LMHO…I really am!!!!!
    This week’s Big Tent prompt was somewhat convoluted; I had to look up the “convoluted” I’d never heard it before. Oh…the joys of being dyslexic.
    It didn’t grab me so I did my own thing: even more giggles… and I thought what you did was well cool.
    Love and hugs.
    Lisa. xx 🙂

    Like

    • Tilly Bud December 20, 2010 at 09:36 #

      Thanks Lisa. 🙂

      I’m always on the look out for something to blog about – it’s addictive, isn’t it?

      Like

  2. vivinfrance December 17, 2010 at 11:58 #

    Oh, my friend: you made me sad for your hurt and then shout Yippee! for your poem. I’m glad someone else took an irreverent view of the prompt. I’ve just read the lot, and thought “I’m not a poet, I’m a pragmatist.”

    Like

    • Tilly Bud December 20, 2010 at 09:37 #

      You know me – reverence for God; respect for others…but everything else is fair game.

      You can be a poet and a pragmatists; the two are not mutually exclusive. But I know what you mean: I often think I am more of a social commentator than a poet.

      Like

  3. gautami tripathy December 17, 2010 at 16:10 #

    LOL!

    You are right!

    dead man and his shoe painting

    Like

  4. Radio Nowhere December 17, 2010 at 16:40 #

    I love your poem from the prompt. I am not sure I want to be grabbed by a Dead Man, prompt or otherwise…

    Like

  5. Donald Harbour December 17, 2010 at 17:01 #

    Hurrah for dogs, there’s nothing like a good lick to get you back to reality. I had forgotten what it was like to have children in the home. Now I’m saddled only with wife and two dogs to trip me up. Tilly, I enjoyed the amusing peek into your life. You should write more about it. Thanks for sharing. Merry Christmas to you and your family.
    Regards,
    Don

    Like

  6. slpmartin December 17, 2010 at 18:07 #

    I laugh out loud when I read your poem this morning…thanks!

    Like

  7. pamela December 17, 2010 at 18:29 #

    Tilly,
    I prefer my corpse to be mute, also.
    Nice alternative.
    Pamela

    Like

  8. Julie Jordan Scott December 17, 2010 at 23:44 #

    You all need to find some decent dead people to hang out with in order to fully write these poems, I am thinking. This has been one of my favorite prompts EVER and seeing these special, non-dead-man poems have been a special treat as well.

    Must be the Zen unattachment thing, seeing as the Dead Man poems are based in a Zen proverb in the first place.

    Like

  9. liv2write2day December 18, 2010 at 05:45 #

    Loving your take on the Dead Man poem. I’m surfing them trying to get inspired.

    Like

  10. Tumblewords December 18, 2010 at 05:47 #

    Ohmigosh, the old rug burn casued me to laugh and wince. They CAN be worse that paper cuts, as I remember. Mute is probably the only way dead men can survive. Fun read, to be sure.

    Like

  11. Cynthia Short December 18, 2010 at 17:02 #

    Gave me a quick laugh this morning! Yes, having a corpse talk would just ruin the wake!

    Like

  12. carolee December 18, 2010 at 18:36 #

    “i like my corpses mute” — is that another way of saying “dead men tell no tales”? 🙂

    thanks for writing with us this week!

    Like

  13. Deb December 18, 2010 at 21:31 #

    Thanks for the “dead” nod. 😉 “A dead man tells no tales.”

    Oy. They just keep coming.

    Like

  14. wayne December 18, 2010 at 21:35 #

    nicely done tilly…..nice read and thanks for sharing your words

    Like

  15. nan December 18, 2010 at 22:49 #

    Fun take on the prompt. I enjoyed it. You are quite clever!

    Like

  16. Tilly Bud December 20, 2010 at 09:41 #

    Thank you, Nan 🙂

    Like

  17. James December 20, 2010 at 23:50 #

    This made me smile. The poem, not your fall.

    Like

    • Tilly Bud December 21, 2010 at 10:27 #

      I’ll take my smiles wherever I can get them, thanks 🙂

      Like

I welcome your comments but be warned: I'm menopausal and as likely to snarl as smile. Wine or Maltesers are an acceptable bribe; or a compliment about my youthful looks and cheery disposition will do in a pinch.

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