Tag Archives: Travel

GloPoWriMo: Day 27

GloPoWriMo: Day 27

The Day 27 prompt was to write a poem that explores the sense of taste.  Many poems explore the sight or sound or feel of things and Proust famously wrote about the memories evoked by smell.  My poem could be about food, or wine, or even the oddly metallic sensation of a snowflake on your tongue.  I have written a poem about the unusual taste of Greek firewater, or raki, and the physical reaction I have to it.




As a wasted life
As an inferno in summer
Solid, cold and scraping
Intense, growing and never ending
Violent and easing all at once
Ελπίζουμε να απολαύσετε την επίσκεψή σας

Copyright, D M Day, 2017


GloPoWriMo: Day 12

GloPoWriMo: Day 12

The Day 12 prompt was to write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration (the use of repeated consonant sounds) and assonance (the use of repeated vowel sounds).  This didn’t mean necessarily limiting myself to a few consonants or vowels, although I could. Even relatively restrained alliteration and assonance can help tighten a poem, with the sounds reinforcing the sense. I have written a drunken poem and I think the alliteration and assonance enhance the drunkeness resembling slurring speech, staggering and going off on tangents!


Alcoholic Frolic

I went for a walk
Wavering, wiggling
Wandering aimlessly
After drinking a lot
And having a talk

With friends and foes
About their woes
And the ends
Of their toes
Finally finishing
Fresh flavoured wine

I staggered outside
Staring up at the stars
Stepping towards home
Where I can sleep and hide
Slipping into bed

But what’s this in the sky
A spaceship hits my eye
And lands in front of my
Very person, oh my
I hope they’re friendly
And I don’t die
Maybe if I offer them pie

I went for a walk
Wavering, wiggling
Wandering aimlessly
After drinking a lot

I may have seen aliens
Even left on their ship
If you want to see them too
Here have a sip
But you have to promise
To keep your mouth zip

Copyright, D M Day, 2017


Train of Thought

Train of Thought

The rain is so heavy tonight. I’m cold and wet but at least the others can’t see my tears. It’s been all I can think about since it happened. His face, when he realised what he’d done. Apparently they all look like that. They’re there of their own free will, we reckon they’ll have thought about it for months, but that moment, before the impact, they stare at you in abject horror. And that three seconds, his face before I hit him and it was all over, will stay with me forever.

Afterwards, when my driver had been taken away wrapped up in a blanket, they brought me back here, and I haven’t moved since. We reckon my driver will have a lot of support and help until he’s back to his old self. That doesn’t happen for us though. We can’t leave the line, so they just put us out of the way, and leave us to rust. They haven’t even washed all the blood off my face.

I hear a whistling and know that the one they call Graham is coming to hide down here like he does every night. Apparently the stuff he smokes isn’t looked on well by the others with legs. Especially for a Railway Guard. I don’t care though. To me, he doesn’t look any less vacant than the rest of them.

He walks along with his head ducked down, water dripping down his uniform. He squeezes into the doorway of a shed and lights the white paper tube. Plumes of smoke leave his mouth and the smell filters towards me and I feel a little comforted. I feel like Graham would be one of the few who understood me. Always alone and not quite fitting onto the track in life he was given.

He grinds the end of the smoke into the wet ground and it disintegrates under his wet boots. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a peach. He’s always hungry after he smokes. He used to eat brown bars but then he started following round the one they call Angela and since then it’s always been peaches or little coloured sticks dipped into something that looks like the mushed up leaves that clog the lines.

He bites the peach and the juice drips onto his chin. I see the other one before he does. Creeping up through the rain, all in black. He wraps his arm around Graham’s neck and rests a shining sliver of metal against his throat. The peach, forgotten, drops into a puddle.

“Easy now,” this new one snarls into Graham’s ear. “Do as I say and nobody needs to die tonight.”

Graham’s eyes are spilling tears and a dark patch, barely visible amidst the rainwater, forms on the front of his trousers. “What do you want?” Graham stammers through his sobs.

More are appearing now. All in black, all creeping about. I’ve no idea how many there are, all I know is that there is only Graham who is free to move. Was free to move. I’m powerless.

“It’s very simple,” the one with gun mutters into Graham’s ear. “We have a bomb and we’re going to put it onto one of these trains. Then tomorrow,” he laughs now, low and sinister, “when it reaches Kings Cross, kaboom. All you have to do, Mr Matthews, is keep your mouth shut and pretend we were never here. Or, this pretty little thing”, he says letting go of Graham’s neck to retrieve a small black box from his pocket which lights up Graham’s tear soaked face, “will throw herself in front of one of them tomorrow. Understand?”

Graham nods slowly, his chest heaving with sobs.

“Good good.” The man with the shining blade smiles and nods at one of the others who uses something shiny to open up one of the other guys. None of them are waking up. Useless mindless lumps of metal.

If only there was something I could do.

Graham is stood shaking and crying and the others are faffing about inside one of the lads. I think of Angela. The way that Graham looks at her. Then her face is in my head, screaming the way that guy did, fear and terror, another guy rusting away in this yard, forgotten and blood soaked. It wouldn’t even be her choice. The sound of the screaming is filling my head. His screams. Her screams. Then out of nowhere there’s an ear splitting noise. Choo choo! All of the ones with legs jump around yelling and holding their heads. Choo choo! Is that me? Choo choo! It is! I don’t believe it. Then I remember. It’s the trick of our ancestors. Bus surely it’s not possible. The ones with legs took it away from us when it was no longer any use to them. And yet the noise comes over and over again. Louder and louder. Choo choo, choo choo, choo choooooooo! Graham stares at me open mouthed as more of his kind appear running and yelling. The ones they call police come then and the ones who threatened Graham are thrown face down onto the wet ground. All is saved. All will be well. I am a hero. No longer a killer.

Maybe they’ll even let me off the tracks.


The noise fades and Graham sucks the last of the fruit from the peach stone and tosses it into the mud. He walks over to me, the same hazy look in his eyes that he always has. He pats the side of my aching head and smiles. ‘We’ll be getting you cleaned up in the morning old boy, he says. “No good leaving you here any longer. The inquest is done now. Back to work.”

He saunters off, whistling again. I’ve heard the others with legs talk about him. They think he’s weird, speaking to us trains as though we can understand him.

Copyright, D M Day, 2017

Tour de Yorkshire

Tour de Yorkshire

So yesterday I had a tweet asking if there were any villages I’d recommend for a visit in Yorkshire.  Now obviously Yorkshire is an awesome place to visit with tons of cool locations to go to and you just can’t cover that in 140 characters.  So here are my top ten places to visit in Yorkshire, villagey and otherwise.

10 – Knaresborough

Knaresborough is a lovely village in North Yorkshire.  I spent some time there over Christmas a few years ago at which point it was particularly sleepy and peaceful.   It is also home to Britain’s oldest tourist attraction, Mother Shipton’s Cave.

9 – Whitby

Whitby is a town on the Yorkshire coast.  It has a good mix of things to do, from the usual coastal activities, to the Goth weekend it’s become quite famous for.  Then there’s the associations with Dracula, and it’s always nice to visit places that are mentioned in books!

8 – Hawes

Hawes is a market town in the Yorkshire Dales, and is actually the highest town in Britain.  I first went to Hawes with my boyfriend and it’s a gorgeous place to walk around.  It’s also where Wensleydale cheese comes from.

7 – York

I suppose you can’t really mention visiting Yorkshire without mentioning York!  It’s obviously a city in North Yorkshire and you can walk around the walls and visit the Shambles, the most picturesque street in Britain.

6 – Kirkstall Abbey

Kirkstall Abbey is one of the best preserved abbeys in Britain and I’ve been visiting it since I was little.  I’ve also taken my niece and nephew a few times.  The Abbey itself is in huge grounds where you can go for nice walks.  Across the road is the Abbey House Museum which is interactive and has a replica of a 19th century high street.  It also has one of the best Santa’s grottos I’ve been to.

5 – Roundhay Park

Roundhay is another place I’ve visited since being little.  The park is massive and there’s lots of places to go walking and have picnics.  There’s also Tropical World which has the largest collection of tropical plants outside of Kew Gardens and various animals, including meerkats, which are awesome.

4 – Hazlewood Castle

My boyfriend took me to Hazlewood Castle last Valentine’s day.  It’s a beautiful building in beautiful grounds and it was all very romantic and fairy tale like.

3 – Pateley Bridge

This a little town in Nidderdale and is another place I first visited with my boyfriend.  It has the nicest little museum ever, which, even though it’s quite small, has loads of stuff in it.  Pateley Bridge is also home to the oldest sweet shop in Britain.

2 – Haworth

Haworth is a village in West Yorkshire which was home to the Brontes.  As well as the Bronte museum, the village itself is a lovely place to visit with cobbled streets.  My favourite way to get there is on the old steam train.

1 – Ilkey Moor

Kinda goes without saying really.  It’s the home of our Yorkshire anthem, it has some of the best views in the county, and is, all in all, my favourite place in the homeland.

Visit Yorkshire – it’s a lovely place!

Copyright, D M Day, 2016


A Surprise Trip

A Surprise Trip

This is a poem I wrote for a writing group.  The prompt was the annual summer holidays, which sadly, it doesn’t look like I’m getting this year…  Still, I’ve had a couple of lovely sunny days at home (when the British weather decides to be summery for 24 hours) and I’ve also had a few productive days hiding from the rain and writing.  So it’s all good.  Now it’s coming towards the end, I hope you have all enjoyed your summer, with or without holidays at home or abroad!

Here’s to blue skies and sunshine and, most importantly, lovely summery cocktails!

A Surprise Trip

One surprise trip
For our anniversary
Thirty minutes to pack
Everything I’ll need
Three rainclouds outside
Will be lovely to get some sun
Four maxi dresses
Should be enough for days out
Eight different bikinis
String, strapless, bandeau
Two strappy pairs of heels
For cocktails on balmy evenings
Five bottles of sun lotion
And one of fake tan, just for, you know
Two passports grabbed
One front door locked
Two ears covered on the plane
One big surprise
Two people land
One big smile
One step out of the plane
Into -2 degrees, in Stockholm
One big row

Copyright, D M Day, 2016

British Barbecue Quandary

British Barbecue Quandary

Well it’s the beginning of August and I’m sat in the house listening to the rain pound the windows while the builders fix up my bathroom.  This is the sound of the great British summer.  Rain and home improvements, and plenty of both.  My little corner of the internet is filled with pictures of my friends’ hot dog legs and sparkling colourful cocktails and beaches.  Not sure we’ll get a holiday abroad this year so we have to make the most of what we have here.  So here’s a little poem dedicated to the great British summer.  Long may it rain…  😉


British Barbecue Quandary

Bee buzzes quietly
By bulging quinoa
Burger’s black, queasy
Bring brolly, quick!

Copyright D M Day, 2016

NaPoWriMo – Day 7

NaPoWriMo – Day 7

The day seven prompt was to write a tritina. The tritina is a shorter cousin to the sestina, involving three, three-line stanzas, and a final concluding line.  Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line.

I generally struggle with structured poetry and really struggled with this one in particular.  At a loss for inspiration I wrote a poem about my upcoming move from Yorkshire to Liverpool.  I’m not massively happy with it, but it’s done and tomorrow is another writing day.

The Other End of the Canal

All ready to move to Liverpool
Away from the rolling hills of Yorkshire
At the other end of the canal

It seems extra long today, that canal
It seems a great distance to Liverpool
From the rolling hills of Yorkshire

The beautiful county of Yorkshire
Split apart by a canal
Ending in the city of Liverpool

Leaving Yorkshire for Liverpool, it’s not far along the canal

Copyright D M Day 2016


More information about NaPoWriMo can be found at http://www.napowrimo.net/