writing jam/rainy day - part 1

Making muddle of baking puddles, screaming curdles with bitter whey.
Climbing a ladder of I don't want to be here, crunching an apple, in the uncomfortable constant of whirligig roundabout change. Castles in the air, a ferris wheel with flapping legs; safety bar to hem you in, protect your head from falling out, out -- smack onto the tarred concrete, the bubbled cobbles, the unfriendly sharp-stoned flatspread, pierced deep with the mighty roots of steel.

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I wrote this piece, and its continuation, on a heavily rainy day.

forecast bricks

forecast bricks, a-falling from the sky, this morning.

denting the grass, a raining danger.

confounding the best-laid landscapes,

cratering hedges and ticketing garden gnomes;

splashing and crashing

and crushing delicate fountainwork,

intricate garden lacery,

squashing it, slamming it,

flat.

A Way to Make You Smile

Here's some simple - but perhaps profound - words. Not mine.

I've found a way to make you,
I've found a way --
A way to make you smile

I read bad poetry
Into your machine.
I save your messages
Just to hear your voice.
You always listen carefully
To awkward rhymes.
You always say your name,
Like I wouldn't know it's you,
At your most beautiful.

Yes, this is from 'At My Most Beautiful', by the great R.E.M.
Give it a listen.

Actually I always thought it was describing a guy trying to get a reaction from his beloved, who was hooked up to medical machines, perhaps in a coma.
Reading the lyrics, I see it's not about that. It's just about leaving a message on someone's message machine.
But the simple sadness in the music is profound at any rate.