Haibun for the Morning

[Magpie]

Clutching a half empty bowl of cereal she unintentionally pirouettes at the bottom of the stairs, sways like a baby giraffe then gathers her composure to look down the length of the passageway before heading towards me. Looking like a tumble dried flamingo in her pink fluffy dressing gown she tentatively negotiates the distance between us till it is no more then turns and with the grace of a pregnant elephant collapses into the seat next to me. Without so much as the slightest of greetings she gazes at the ceiling then recommences our one sided conversation from yesterday. A night's consumption of alcohol had not only caused the stench that was now her noxious invasive breath but had also seemingly affected her memory as she added nothing new to her rhetoric that I was once again forced to listen to. 'The garage is a mess, the garden is messier, airing cupboards would be called home brewing cupboards if that was their true purpose, a woman has needs and they need batteries.' Embarrassed, I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat and sighed louder than I would have liked, which in turn caused her to abruptly spin round and hurl an inquisitive stare at me. The sudden movement also enabled her right breast to be released from its pink prison and it lurched forward and bounced vigorously as if nodding in agreement with its owner as to who was guilty of daring to sigh. Unable to take anymore I stood up and rang the bell for mercy whilst heading for the door.


rush hour madness
stuck with mrs. jones again
the bus to work

[Tiger the Lion]

Clutching a half empty bowl of cereal she unintentionally pirouettes at the bottom of the stairs, sways like a baby giraffe then gathers her composure to look down the length of the passageway before heading towards me. Looking like a tumble dried flamingo in her pink fluffy dressing gown she tentatively negotiates the distance between us till it is no more then turns and with the grace of a pregnant elephant collapses into the seat next to me. Without so much as the slightest of greetings she gazes at the ceiling then recommences our one sided conversation from yesterday. A night's consumption of alcohol had not only caused the stench that was now her noxious invasive breath but had also seemingly affected her memory as she added nothing new to her rhetoric that I was once again forced to listen to. 'The garage is a mess, the garden is messier, airing cupboards would be called home brewing cupboards if that was their true purpose, a woman has needs and they need batteries.' Embarrassed, I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat and sighed louder than I would have liked, which in turn caused her to abruptly spin round and hurl an inquisitive stare at me. The sudden movement also enabled her right breast to be released from its pink prison and it lurched forward and bounced vigorously as if nodding in agreement with its owner as to who was guilty of daring to sigh. Unable to take anymore I stood up and rang the bell for mercy whilst heading for the door.


rush hour madness
stuck with mrs. jones again
the bus to work

I like the overall language here. The tone reflects the madness. I'm always a fan of long, well crafted sentences, but I think a few short stuccatoed sentences interspersed might help the reader breathe and digest better. 
Thinking of the spreaker-audience relationship, I think "whilst" to be an odd word. "While" might be more accurate for the conversational feel of this. Unsure. 
Thanks for the read,
Paul

[Magpie]

I like the overall language here. The tone reflects the madness. I'm always a fan of long, well crafted sentences, but I think a few short stuccatoed sentences interspersed might help the reader breathe and digest better. 
Thinking of the spreaker-audience relationship, I think "whilst" to be an odd word. "While" might be more accurate for the conversational feel of this. Unsure. 
Thanks for the read,
Paul

Thanks Paul, I hear what you're saying regarding mixing it up with the length of sentences, I'll take a look at it and see what is possible. It's interesting that you bring up 'whilst' and at first I thought it was one of those words that perhaps I'd half invented and changed to suit my purpose without realising. However after looking it up, although it is classed as meaning the same as 'while' it is also classed as being 'Chiefly British'  which would account for why it sounds odd to you. Thanks for pointing that out, that's another quirk in the difference between our totally different languages   I think I'll change it to 'and headed for the door'.

Cheers for reading, even though it's not a proper poem, but I love writing prose and bending the rules 

Mark

ah!! these bloody foreigners with their bloody foreign spelling... I don't know... ooopss! did I say that out loud.
Wow is that the time? 
Must dash... 

[rayheinrich]

... ah!! these bloody foreigners with their bloody foreign spelling... I don't know... ooopss! did I say that out loud.
Wow is that the time? 
Must dash... 

Over here in Texas, anyone who uses "bloody" IS a foreigner. The correct term is " fukin' ".
As in: "Fukin' furners cun't spel fur she'it.

[Magpie]

Over here in Texas, anyone who uses "bloody" IS a foreigner. The correct term is " fukin' ".
As in: "Fukin' furners cun't spel fur she'it.

I urge you to change your ways of spelling, I want you to include 'U'.

There surely can be no colour without 'u'. There surely can be no flavour, honour, or humour without 'u'. And what would rumour be without 'u'.

Is it to be 'our' or 'or'. 'Our' is inclusive and loving, whereas 'or' does have an air of indecision about it.

I'll leave the -ogue/-og dilemma, the -yse/-yze predicament and the 'grey' versus 'gray' catastrophe for another day 

[rayheinrich]

I urge you to change your ways of spelling, I want you to include 'U'.

There surely can be no colour without 'u'. There surely can be no flavour, honour, or humour without 'u'. And what would rumour be without 'u'.

I used to include that 'u' all the time. Most of my poems on my computer written before
2007 are rife with it. I'd gotten this free copy of MS Word from some fukin' furner and the only
spelling correction dictionary it had was a fukin' Brit one. I tried to fight it, but my sloth overcame me;
if I typed "colour", it let me be, so I capitulated. Around 2007 I got a proper U.S. version;
but by then I had been firmly brainwashed into using the 'u' s and I had to endure yet another
few years of spell-checker abuse until I re-learned to drop them.     Fukin' furners!