Tuesday, 24 June 2025

Passing movements by Adam Parry

 


 

Passing movements on a crowded street

people pushing passed

me? I am sleep-walking in a haze

of Twilight, forgotten, with broken

moments that come and go

as my thoughts do, come and go,

waiting my turn in the queue

for a package of fame

as I work the type-writer

Into a frenzy of noise.

Thursday, 19 June 2025

Swimming with fishes

 

Swimming with fishes

by Adam Parry.

 

We all went for breakfast to Dobbie’s at the top of Lang Stracht. I must admit I expected the breakfast to be better than it was, but basically, I left most of it on the plate and I left the others and wandered about the cavernous shop and in time happened upon the room full of aquariums. I could’ve stayed for hours, or maybe it was days my emotions ranged from how beautiful to a lonely despair because I wanted to set them free, but knew however they’d probably die in the river, or the sea or whatever water in released them into. There was such a variety of colour and shapes and a part of me wanted to be a beautiful fishy in my tank, and I tried to imagine what it would be like then wondered if there was a fish looking out wanting to be me. I doubted it and went to find my family my ears popping with the bends and I bought a book I did not read; some cat food the cat didn’t want and an indoor tree I didn’t water got back into the back seat of the car thinking if wishes were fishes, then I’d be three.

 

The sun was shining when they dropped me off and I knew wishes weren’t fishes for if they were I’d be standing where I’d been, and be standing there now instead of looking out this window drowning in this air.

Thursday, 12 June 2025

Tracey S by Adam Parry


 

She was filled with intense relief, she went to the mirrored cabinet in the bathroom and left, one by one her medication as if they were emotions forbidden her, her prescription filled by a dark-haired Saturday girl.

First the pain-killers, two bottles of them, her epilepsy pills. Then the tooth paste she liked: mint Colgate. She had fallen outside the Spar and a nice schoolgirl helped her up while her boy ignorantly watched still sitting on the wall as he was worried someone would take his perch.

The girl sat beside her on the newly painted, pristine, bench and pulled a can of unicorn tears flavoured Irn Bru for the woman.

She thought she recognized someone driving by in a Toyota, but it wasn’t him and a black mist fell over her, piercing her heart as if she had been tattooed by dirty needles made ugly with shadows stencilled throughout her heart.

The night before she had stayed up watching the bright, almost too bright for her eyes, full moon passing the night from horizon to horizon and wept as there was no magic, perhaps they never had been.

Slowly she placed her prescription:

Olanzapine, lithium, lamotrigine, Seroxat, zopiclone,

on the middle shelf in alphabetical order, closed the mirrored door and saw herself for the first time that day. She seemed new in the well cleaned mirror making her shine and didn’t need to take her pills today. 

Wednesday, 4 June 2025

Diamonds

 

Diamonds

a poem

By Adam L Parry

 

That I would be rarer than a diamond

 tho’ we are all rarer than diamonds, rarer than yesterday,

rarer than an ice-burg of diamonds, or a resplendent sky-scraper

upon the sea - a uninhabited island rarer than me.