Tag Archives: Summer

GUEST POST // A June Poem: Beneath the Pier by Writingcolorfully

We huddled
Beneath the pier
With tangled pretzel legs.
Denim shorts, the color of the coast
Speckled with sand
Like salted dough.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
White and pink seashells
Small like rabbit noses
Kissed and nipped
Our toes.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
Bright umbrella tops
Plastic pails and shovels and
Towels spread.
Chairs perched upright,
A set of pelicans
Just like the two of us.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
As the ocean whispered
And clouds passed by
In dainty shapes
Each unique like
Vintage teacups.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
To farewell the boats
And sun
And greet the crescent
With every single star
And galaxy stitch.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
As if a storm brewed
Coffee pot strong,
No cream or sugar.

We huddled
Beneath the pier
As if we were in control
Of the summer.

by WRITINGCOLORFULLY
© All rights reserved 2019

A Song of Ice and Fire

Tati walks into the lounge room in a swimsuit and flip-flops. A beach towel is thrown over one shoulder. Tony walks in from the opposite doorway. He’s in a fur hat and a heavy woollen coat. He’s carrying a pair of skis.

TONY: Aren’t you cold?

TATI: Aren’t you hot?

They look at each other with suspicion.

TONY: Do I look like I’m hot?

Button is sitting in the corner, giggling. He feels like he’s about to witness something fun.

TATI: I didn’t mean if you’re sexy, dolt! Why did you encumber yourself with all this crap?

Tony lets out a deep, sad sigh.

TONY: Winter is coming. And don’t say I know nothin’, okay? I’m not Jon Snow!

Tati furrows her brow.

TATI: Who is this?

TONY: He’s a fictio—oh, never mind. What are you doing baring so much skin in the middle of winter anyway?

TATI: You’re unbelievable, Tony! Where’s your logic? A moment ago you stated that winter is coming. Now you’re saying it’s the middle of winter! Can you please pick one and stay with it?

TONY: GAH! Sorry! I guess really do know nothin’…

Button now has a tub of popcorn and a can of cola. He’s adjusting his 3D glasses as he watches this scene unfold. Tati sighs, and decides to change her tactic. She pokes her finger at a nearby wall calendar. The date is June 1.

TATI: Take a hint, Tony. Please.

TONY: Oh! Okay. It’s the beginning of winter then.

Tati gawks at Tony with great surprise. She hadn’t expected that heatstroke could have such a deep effect on someone.

TATI: You should lie down, Tony. I will call a doctor to come and check your head.

Tati swipes the can of cola from Button’s feeble clutches, and pours the contents over Tony’s head.

BUTTON: What the fuck?

TONY: What the FUCK?!

TATI: Did it help? I can add popcorn!

Button hides the tub of popcorn behind his back.

TONY: NO! GODDAMMIT!

Tony runs around in circles, rubbing his hair vigorously with his hands. He’s trying desperately to get it dry.

TONY: So freaking COLD. I need a warm towel! My kingdom for a warm towel!

Tati takes the towel from her shoulder and flicks it toward him.

TONY: Oh my god. Is that… effervescence I’m feeling? What if the bubbles get absorbed into my brain?

TATI: Then I hope it will revitalise your dried brain a little bit. And that you finally realise it’s bloody SUMMER.

TONY: Summer? SUMMER?! It’s so bloody cold I could snap an ear off, use it as an ashtray, and it still wouldn’t thaw!

Tati turns to whisper to Button.

TATI: Call the mental health facility. Tony is having a fit.

TONY: It’s winter! WINTER! Do you see me shivering here? I’m blue, for freak’s sake! I’m as blue and shaky as Epileptic Smurf! Button, call the mental health facility! Tati’s a raving lunatic! She thinks it’s summer!

Button rolls his eyes and does the ‘cuckoo’ sign at both Tati and Tony. He then takes some popcorn and…

Intrigued? Just click here to read the rest. It won’t hurt. Nor will it bankrupt you. We promise!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

GUEST POST // Curious Intents In This Warmer Weather by Captain Q

Curious intents in this warmer weather
Knowing Summer will be coming soon
Inspiration & creativity go hand in hand
Shedding Winter demons beneath a fresh moon
I’m tired of conditioning myself for them
My mind feels free & ready to finally shine
Pushing away any thought to merely conform
We get one life & this one is going to be mine
I’m going to stretch my imagination far out
Tinkering with ideas & love for us all to spread
Spring is the return of life to this sleeping world
In the future, how to be remembered when we’re dead

by CAPTAIN Q
© All rights reserved 2018

DARWINIAN // Wonky Vision

So, I’m waiting at the lights for the little green man to stutter. That’ll be my signal to cross.

I’m late for the bus again, and my back is sloughing into the seat of my pants via a river of sweat. Sizzling in this heat and humidity like a piece of rump steak is no fun, and the light is searing its bad self into every cranny of my awareness so there’s nothing but blank canvas everywhere I look. Yup, I’m a squinting Mr Magoo at the Seeing Eye Olympics. On the face of the sun. Being spit roasted by Satan himself. Or I may as well be. Summer sure loves to make me its inelegant, sweaty bitch.

I can barely make out the couple in front of me. They happen, as it turns out, to be making out—I can make that much out. Oh, hang on, they’re not actually making out. They’re just holding hands, sharing adoration and kisses despite the sun’s brutal, disapproving efforts. How sweet! I can’t help but smile. Not that you’d know it was a smile. It’s more like a scrunched up, mortified towel really—one that’s been used to exfoliate Donald Trump’s junk. Well, abused more like.

We’re hearing the green man now, so we all step out onto the road. The couple are still hand-in-hand, swinging their arms in time with the endearing skip in their gaits and hearts. We’re halfway across when a horrible realisation hits me. It’s two men! Shit! TWO MEN! I immediately begin to panic. The squinting has to stop. Like. Now. What if they see my expression—the grimacey scrunch that reads nothing like a smile—and come to the conclusion that I’m hating on their public display of affection? God almighty!

I try to unsquint as much as I humanly can, only to be blinded even more. Jesus! Fuck! The pain! The light is so fucking aggressive… and, holy fuck, the tears! My face is contorting all over the place like an epileptic cow with a cattle prod up its arse. It’s a wonder I’m not staggering into oncoming traffic. Still, I’m certain there’ll somehow be blood and recriminations next.

We reach the other side, and it’s only at that point when I realise something. Not only has this couple failed to notice my wank-walk of over the top social maladjustment, they clearly wouldn’t give a damn even if they did. They’re so besotted with one another, and so at ease within themselves and their immediate surroundings that… well, so what if I existed? Hell, it’s not even remotely about me. Or about what I think, for good or ill.

I’m just lucky to have witnessed this unabashed display of affection without getting smeared up the road by a Mack Truck—you know, like red jam over toast. Gaydom’s so normal that I should be considering it a bore really, not something to be noticed and having judgements formed about. Yup, nothing to see here. Just two folks very much in love. All’s right with the world.

And that’s enough for now.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018