Rewenge
The Cloud Speaks On the Subject of Revenge Revenge is a relentless drama, greedy by nature. Watch it at work, …
Category Archives: The Cloud Speaks.
‘Ow Much?!
Time Was (Circa the Span of a Century) Posh coffee for a fiver? Time was you could score a bag …
Good Grief
I need help with this new editor malarkey. It’s changed completely to the new format with blocks and such bollocks …
The Toll
The Cloud Speaks on the Subject of ‘The Toll’ The terrible life events we must all endure at one time …
On The New Year – Goethe (and his mates)
This poem was composed in 1802 for a merry party that used to meet each year at Goethe’s house, so …
Alive and if not kicking, Certainly Soft Shoe Shuffling
Just under three weeks of it. There is some resemblance to the seven plagues with the virus, I was fully …
Malady M’Lady
The virus has me, however I have avoided hospital (no skin on teeth left) and though still in a bad …
Never Mind The
Bollocks Usage of the word bollocks – 14th Century (Origin of bollock – Middle English ballok from Old English beallucas …
Hourglass Figures
Thoughts upon a Cloud Dweller and her Wares
Said thoughts being yours for ‘The Book’ — the true title is top (upper shelf, hidden behind emergency tins of …
Furry Fright
‘Don’t tell me the spoon is smiling; Show me the hint of fright on a woken moustache.’ Composed by E. …
Harpo Nude Ears
Honk honk. Ticklesome business. Esme raises her bucket of Woodford Reserve and aspartame-free, caffeine-free, reality -free coke and ice to …
The Name Game
Names are powerful, they create a subliminal image to the characters in books, poetry and lyrics, one added to the …
The 500 and odd oddsters
Esme blows a fanfare on her trombone – Last week Esme’s Cloud gained the 500th follower. Five hundred no less! …
The Waiting Room
The Waiting Room Esmeralda Cloud: From my vantage point upon the Cloud, a scene presents itself; another cipher from the …
The Cloud Speaks On the Subject of Marbles.
Detach some temperate layer of your egoical self, some gentle, unspectacular aspect of your existence which slips along quietly with, …
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