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'Thrills & Spills'
December 2011

04 May 2012

The Thrills and Spills of Life

Life is full of thrills and spills
The crazy rushes and then the stills
The build up to Christmas is a time of rush
Followed by a short time of in between hush
Then things pick up again to celebrate New Year
A time for celebrating with family and peers
I enjoy the peaceful times, a time to reflect
But the hurried times are exciting too, what to expect
Without the thrills my life would just be boring
No time for adventure with my spirit soaring
For without the spills I would have nothing to discover
But without the spills, no time for myself to recover
I think its important to have a balance of both
A time for cheetahs, a time to be a sloth
After all they say that variety is the spice of life
A little time of peace a little of strife
Some people call it the calm before the storm
Challenges are coming, this peace to deform
My moto is to always enjoy life whether thrills or spills
Make the most of things that’s how to fulfill
After all Life is full of thrills and spills

Liz Jury


Clickety clack clickety clack

Scared yet so excited
No chance of looking back
Our carriage slowly ascended

Bodies began to weaken and slack

Tiny world beneath feet trembled
Clickety clack clickety clack
Scared yet so excited

Descending down the metallic track

We joltily twisted and turned
Adrenaline rush, stomachs turned
Hearts in mouths out knee strength did lack
Clickety clack clickety clack
Scared yet so excited

Mark Crittenden

Thrill seekers

Thrill seekers come and see,

What amazing things you can do to be,
Moved to the edge of reason,
Sometimes waiting for certain seasons.

Thrill seekers, some jump out of plane,

Many think to do that is insane,
They climb the highest peak,
What is it that they seek,

Thrill seekers, some dive into the depths,

Or traverse huge gaps, high with no nets,
They jump from various things,
Their screams of pleasure sings.

Thrill seekers, jumping from heights,

Sometimes with chutes or bungie cord that bites,
When they arrest their falls,
Sometimes filling their smalls.

Thrill seekers, find fast rides,

Or try to beat against the tides,
In deserts they scramble, tires biting,
Always for life they are fighting.

Fair rides and parks are another source of fun,

Up down, any direction is fine, bar none,
Most of the time this all comes with a fee,
All they needed to do was join the Military

Chris Duncan

Reaching for the Sky

Above me I see a challenge,

I am ready to try, to reach for the sky
I have all I need, this habit I must feed,
One foot in front of the other,
Taught to me long ago by my mother.

With a Calming breath I step up,

Place my shoe upon the stone,
Instantly I feel that I have found my home,
On my second step, I am rising,
My enjoyment always surprising.

My friend is below, paying out as I go,

In these adventures, for me there is always two,
Ask about soloists and they say who?
The gear is heavy, glinting in the morning light,
Without it I am certain a slip, would end in flight,

I make progress, climbing high,

I rise steadily from sleep and the night,
My grip each time firm, gear placed tight,
With each step I can see much more,
As I look out, take a breath my heart can soar.

The moves are done methodically,

I place everything always with care,
My feet, hands, gear, here or there,
But there is always time,
To stop and stare, while on a climb.

The beauty of the mountains and cliffs,

All around me while I struggle up,
Makes all my emotions Erupt,
The views are beautiful, so calming,
Many natural wonders, and a bit of farming.

It has a profound effect on me,

Everything troubling, Worries and fears,
Nightmares, problems, things that bring tears,
Fall away, dropping like stones,
Strength builds back in my weary bones.

I keep progressing, reaching,

Half way from the top,
I make another stop,
With knots, Karabiners and gear,
I anchor so my friend can climb here.
When he reaches me we pause,
As we always do to swap gear,
And to take a breath, swallowing fear,
Fear is natural and right,
Any that say they have none won't see the night.

Then he is moving off, reaching above,

I pay out rope to aid his progress,
But always ready if he falls, to arrest.
To stop the flow of rope,
In the quality of his gear placement we both hope.Many times we swap, before we reach the top,
On the last leg it is up to me,
To get us both up safely,
I am now at peace, feeling quietly calm,
This great rock seems to guard us from harm.

When at last the end I can see,

I step up over the edge and walk back,
Reaching for some gear I arrange my tack,
Happy we are both safe, I signal to him, come up,
He starts up, at the top we greet and drink from a cup.

With a smile plastered on each face,

We start to get ready for the walk down,
As we walk back I have a moments frown,
I wonder when my next chance will be to try,
To climb cold rock, reaching for the sky.

Chris Duncan


The waters break, they cause a spill

Before the thrill you get from birth.
No longer carried, borne in pain
But born to claim a place on earth
And have the thrills and spills of life
From that first cry until you die.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

Spills and Thrills

A new sports car

he presented to me
Shining, sparkling
for all to see
Come said he
let's see how she goes
So soon we sped
disappearing hedgerows.

The thrill of the chase

the wind in the hair
The hump in the road
was our despair
The spill was dramatic
you would not believe
The tree was majestic
it did not relieve.

Jackie Primett
Stevenage Survivors

The Biker

Masturbate your motorbike

Sitting at the traffic lights
And revving up your engine
Just to give us all a fright.
Flashy helmet, wrapped in leather;
Looking tough in any weather.
Lights turn green and you weave through
The slowly moving traffic queue.
Pick up speed. Away you go.
Overtaking just for show.
You’re intent on having fun;
Eighty, ninety, now a ton.
Cameras flashing everywhere,
Cops about, but you don’t care.
Speed away! I only pray
That you will stay alive today.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

The Broker

The price goes up, the price goes down.

It is all the same to me;
I make money either way.
The market is a game I play;
Buying, selling when I can.
I am just the middle man
And when the owner gives permission
I do a trade and earn commission.
In the world of stocks and shares
Some are bulls and some are bears.
Make a profit, make a loss;
I really couldn’t give a toss.
Folk will ask me to suggest
Ways in which they can invest
In hedge funds or in unit trusts
Or pension schemes that can’t go bust.
As finance firms create their plans
To get your money in their hands
With packages that take the piss,
My derivative from this
Is that I’ll always be all right;
A broker and a parasite.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

Just a Thought

Look at a tree.

Now close your eyes;
Imagine it bare.
Which seems more real,
The tree you could see
Or the one that’s not there?
Using your mind
Fly in the sky.
Circle the earth.
Experience life
In millions of ways,
Enriching your days
With sights and with sounds
And with tastes that abound
In the world all around.
Move throughout time,
Go back and forth;
The future, the past,
The bad and the good.
Then change things, at last
To be as they should.
Travel in space.
Be one with the sun.
See every place
In the vast universe
But then ensure
That your flight’s not a curse.
For although it is sad
You must come back to earth
Or you’ll drive yourself mad.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers


I woke in a cloud of lavender oil & liniment.

A business card with one recognisable word
GAZPROM, and a circled phone number
was propped on the bedside table. A roll
of gaffa tape & a blindfold lay next to it.

Evidence? A slow motion chain of associations,

a stroll with Kipling’s 6 Honest Serving Men.
If this was a thriller or police procedural,
which page was I, which book or TV show?
A local franchise of CSI or The Shield?

Go figure; I might not be James Bond but

being British must count for something.
A torch with a stain on one end, a sachet
of shower gel, a box of matches, a case
of Windsor & Newton watercolours, a rope;

What am I missing? If I was Sherlock

Holmes, Hercule Poirot or Philip Marlowe,
I could reconstruct last night’s events,
but I am none of the above, and if I could
vote for myself as Nun of the Above,

I might not believe in my own innocence.

I was in a bar, heard some very bad jazz,
drank the local tractor fuel, went to another
bar, drank some Turkish beer, recited Yeats
& Auden, then the rest is a perfect blank.

If I cannot find my clothes, money or credit

card, it won’t be the first time a naked man
has marched down to this hotel’s Reception
wielding a strategically placed copy of
The Wordless Travel Book, open at p.13.

Word for Word Writers Group


Not the friendliest 6 am phone call;

who calls before breakfast with good news?

Ok, let’s bundle & go, skip breakfast,

leave our lives behind. Just drive.

Pick a town, pick a state.

By the time I get to Phoenix . . .

What’s goin’ on in Phoenix?

Dunno, let’s go find out.

So, who was the Masked Announcer?

If I knew that, I’d be President.

Who do you want to be today?

I dunno, who was I yesterday?

You know the story, guy leaves Vegas

with 100 large, arrived with a mil?

Don’t tell me you pissed off the Mob?

No, I came with nothing, I’ll leave with nothing.

What’s your name anyway, pardner?

Dunno, I haven’t read the script.

Ok, let’s stick to roles -

I’m Driver, you’re Mechanic,

there’s always a Girl, Another Driver,

always another race, another motel.

Let’s roll, our mystery caller is due

anytime, we’ll get coffee on the road.

Word for Word Writers Group

I did

I smile through my veil
A curtain of stars
Forms a sparkling trail
That brightens the pale
Of my face

I hold out my hand

To conceal the scars
A solid gold band
United we stand
Tears and lace

We sign on the page

Your vow is a farce
My opening stage
Is your gilded cage
To escape

And now I'm alone

Promises don't last
Your weapon - the phone
Your words hit like stones
Dead embrace

I sign once again

Your tense is now past
Like birthing I strain
An end to my pain
The last trace

Ashley Jordan

Phantoms of the Forest Mist

In the woods, dead of night
Snapping twigs give you a fright
Fog drifts in through leaves and trees
You start to fill ill at ease

Creeping slowly up behind

Tel yourself, they're in your mind
Hurry, hurry, faster go
They're getting closer still you know

The wood's edge is now in sight

Start to run with all your might
Trip and stumble, then fall down
So you crawl across the ground

Branches hold you back it seems

This is a nightmare not a dream
Frantic now, you try to wake
But this time there is no escape

Within your chest your heart a-pounds

Silently, the fog surrounds
Eerily they writhe and twist
The phantoms of the forest mist.

Ashley Jordan

Mount Horntye

We had a mountain in our house
One we climbed with care
To sit triumphant at the top
And all around us stare

The mountain was with perils fraught

Which we overcame
The risk and danger seemed to be
The best part of the game

Tatty teddies often fell

To their dreadful doom
In sorrow, we buried them
In their toy-box tomb

When at last we went to bed

We would cry all night
With our beloved friends not there
Sleep did not seem quite right

Our woe-filled hearts were broken

Like our teddy bears
So mum fetched thread and needle
To mend the tears and tears

Ashley Jordan

No Tomorrow

The promise of the coming spring
Was never quite fulfilled
And the summer I had dreamed of
Was yet more cruelly stilled

Autumn rained upon my sadness

My heart was icy chilled
Winter starkly trampled over
Everything I'd willed

And thus the seasons ebb and flow

Marking milestones in my sorrow
Passing moons that leave me hollow
Please, let there be no tomorrow

Ashley Jordan

Toxic Revenge
I'm very pleased to welcome
Our special guest tonight
Let's show our appreciation
For the lovely winter's bride

Through trials and tribulations

She's come a long, long way
Past self-destructive love
To be with us today

She is here to tell us

How every woman can
Learn to find true happiness
Without their let-down man

Dressed in sparkling black

How fabulous she looked
With shining hair and painted lips
The gloss of Hollywood

And when she softly spoke

How the audience thrilled
At the graphic details of
The lover she had killed

They hung upon her every word

Eyes fixed upon her face
As she revealed the poisons
That wouldn't leave a trace

Scribbling toxic recipes

And gasping with surprise
They tutted disapproval
That didn't reach their eyes

And now we are just waiting

To read the news headlines
Of all the faithless partners
Who find they're out of time

We're sure that this new tactic

Will break the modern trend
Of husbands, boyfriends, fathers
Who'd rather be 'just men'

Ashley Jordan

Street love on a budget
I roll a fag, he rolls his eyes
I lay back, he grips my thighs
I think of home, he gasps and sighs
This is street love on a budget

He pays in cash, I count the notes

He takes his shoes, I pass his coat
He drives away, I hit the road
This is street love on a budget

Ashley Jordan

It's Christmas Eve!

Twitchetty - tock, Twitchetty – tock

When is it Christmas?
When is time?
When are we going to go?
I’m Twitchett the fidget
And I’m all flibbertigibbet
To bound around in the snow

Twitchetty – tock, Twitchetty – tock

When is it Christmas?
When is time?
When are we going to go?
Cos’ I’m twitchily, itchilly
Dying to fly, high
In the glittery sky

Twitchetty – tock, Twitchetty – tock

When is Christmas?
When is time?
When are we going to go?
I’m all jingly, dingily,
Zingily and tingily
To shake my bells and bow

It’s Christmas Eve!

It’s Christmas time!
And Santa’s ready to go!
Look at the snow!
Look at it glow!
Let’s go on with the show!

Footnote; Twitchett is very impatient and over excitable reindeer!!!

Jan Hedger


Your Name: Ashley Jordan
Your Comment: Welcome to TheFED, Chris! It's always fantastic to have someone new submitting to the Writing Challenges - Reaching for the Sky had me holding my breath - a truly vertiginous piece!  Look forward to reading much more of your work :-)

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Good to see you on here Chris! Welcome! Two great poems - First looking at the whole picture of the thrill seeker - the second - I was there with you for every concentrated step! Cheers friend!

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Oh Andrew - your poem Arrival is one of your absolute best - and you have done a few of those - it is a gorgeous description - quite tear provoking - bless you for sharing this.wonderful analogy of birth and life.

Your Name: Ashley Jordan
Your Comment: Andrew that first line (you know the one) really made me laugh - twice in fact - the first time because I thought I must have mis-read it and the second time when I realised I hadn't! Brian - two very swish poems - and a brilliant take on the theme of Thrills & Spills - I'm just left wondering what is on page 13 (I do hope it's not a spill lol) Jackie - Great to read your work - we don't see enough from the members of Stevenage Survivors!

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Just a thrill and never a spill to read your contributions - Andrew and Jackie!

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Brian - a poem to get ones teeth into!

Your Name: jan hedger
Your Comment: Ashley you have surpassed yourself - was it you waiting for this very theme! So diverse - very good indeed! Will re-read - so much in each and every one

Your Name: Ashley Jordan
Your Comment: Great start to this month's challenge, Jan - I love this one and it is perfect for 'Thrills and Spills'


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