Pizza boy - express delivery!

Isn’t inspiration a curious thing? The strangest and oddest of events can move us along a road, taking us on a journey we neither planned nor expected.

A few months ago a friend shared her woes over a non-romantic entanglement with an Italian barman she run up a tab with in Italy – yes, that’s where Italian barmen come from. Of course Italy is only a click away – the internet and Facebook in particular have brought the overseas over here.

As my friend shared her woes, not only did it halve, it morphed into some ideas for a competition I’d spotted.

Entrants were invited to write ‘Tweetable’ poems on any subject - less than 200 characters in length.

I submitted a few – there was no limit.

A tasty slice

Spicy and dry
She laughed at his jokes
Juicy and tender
He dreamt of her body
The pizza man delivered
She didn’t tip



Pigeon Post

The screen flashed on
Her words were barbed
Dear John, it’s over
Follow me no more
That poisoned tweet -
Me a twit for ever



And then we moved on to women’s problems – of the facial hair kind.


Re-birth

She tugged with tweezers
It refused to budge
The skin was red
She saw it too
Nature’s gift for her birthday?
The bearded lady was born



And finally…this one won me a book – as runner up.


A poke in the heart

On Facebook she poked
He felt her touch
On Facebook she followed
He heard her breathe
But her book was lies
Her face two-sided
Virtual love hurts