Combustible the bitter heart of the abiding cynic

she who choose to migrate toward the nothingness

bearing a hat bursting full of peripheral care not secrets

leading a sacrificial, solitary life seated outside the threshold

of the enticing black canvas upon which far-flung shimmering stars

in all their naked glory are pinned for the indulgence of the beholder

instead she chooses not to sit by the ornate façade looking beyond

merely content to be left alone in the fading light facing that aspect

in part begging it yawn ajar, yet terror stricken of catching even a glimpse

of that which her biased, queer point of disadvantage had declared sacrosanct

such is the way of an acrimonious girl concealing a broken heart and no future to speak of

or seemingly so

for she had overlooked resurrection of self comes from beyond

is triggered randomly, an alien prompt most often and that only our ghosts

are forever becalmed upon the shadowless dark waters of deaths lake

far beyond the horizon of the living realm of breath-taking magic


Café cappuccino contemplation outside in the sun and a hatpin to poke at the infectious void

“That is some redoubt you’ve built around yourself…what’s all that about then?”

She tentatively looks up, noting a dapper young man with ushering-in sorcery in his darting blue eyes

tries ever so hard to studiously ignore his opening gambit to no avail

an intense desire to merely say, ‘Fuck off’ beyond her invention

“Hope you don’t mind if I perch here at your table, the rest are full as I don’t know what!”

Her mannerism conveys that she accedes to his appeal with more than a little hesitancy

“Got the world on your shoulders then Little Miss Atlas?”

She speaks not, certainly not the ‘It’s none of your fucking business’ that buzzes within


More often than not the relentless tricks ‘time’ plays are the cruellest of things yet not so this day

this day the exception that proved the rule, for ‘magic’ is the one thing that would always trump ‘time’

as ‘time’ itself would reluctantly concede if pushed, and pushed it was as the ‘Little Miss Atlas’

throwaway analogy struck a chord, brought out a simper, then a smirk then the full blown laugh

that had been minded to escape restraint since back when a new day’s promise was still a delight

‘It’s none of your fucking business’ no longer buzzed within

Come autumn years the two were long since one, magic had indeed trumped time



30 thoughts on “LITTLE MISS ATLAS

      1. She had honey and lemon earlier yet whisky (sadly) is not allowed in the house. I gave it up 30 years ago as it turned me into a monster (as it did my father before me)…shame really because a drop of Talisker always went down well!

  1. This is great piece of writing Mike. I call this a “fatty”, something I have not been able to achieve. My friend was going to teach me but he passed away before he did that. I really doubt it is something one can be taught, but is inherent as a writing style. Wonderful, wonderful!

    1. My thanks…I’ve often viewed the fact that fact that I cannot do brevity in poetry as a curse. The longer the piece the less likely that the ‘whole’ will be a metaphor. You will understand your kind words will renew my confidence. Cheers.

      1. You’re rather clever Shehannemoore. Do you know if one get music to play on a blog or does one only have an option to copy and paste say, a Soundcloud link on to a post? Sorry to trouble you in this regard and no worries if you’re busy. Have a fine day…off to coffee now!

      2. I don’t know Mike. It might well depend on the package you have. I mean if it is yir bog standard wi WordPress they dinnae even let you add a poll anymore unless you fork out. You would have to look at your adding media bit, you know where you can upload pics etc and see. Also I would just type in online re adding music to a wordpress blog and see what happens. You often get answers there

      3. Cheers for that…as it happens I did try my level best but just posted the lyric and a Soundcloud link in the end…I get so confused with technology…my eldest wanted me on WhatsAp so he could send me video’s of my grandson. Got the app; he’s sent me the video’s…can I open the app? Can I…’rude word’!

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