Keith Mole
Bio
Born and raised in Newcastle, England. Moved to New Zealand 1996. A career in Information Technology - redundant in Feb 2010. Took a (BA) in creative writing and then studied at the NZ Film and Television school. Actor/Writer/Grandad.
Stories (14/0)
View from the big red chair
It was not my first choice for spending my weeks leading up to Christmas. No, to be brutally honest I’d have loved to have been on the beach or swimming in the lagoon in Rarotonga. But it wasn’t to be. At that point in time, it was all down to money and getting time off. Not for me, my wife. Me, I was semi-retired at that point – almost unemployable. At least that’s how it felt.
By Keith Mole2 years ago in Families
Personal Grief
You don’t need to read this. It’s just me blowing off some steam. Still trying to come to terms with my father’s death. When my mum was suddenly taken ill, I was working / living in Australia. She passed away before I could even book a flight to get home.
By Keith Mole3 years ago in Families
A single cell amoeba in the petri dish of life
You are the stone in my shoe, feeding the blister on my soul You are the label on my skin, itching, annoying, aggravating. You are the stubborn oil stain on my shirt, apparently vanish proof, You are the cold wind on a wet day, as if rain wasn’t bad enough. You are the splinter beneath my skin, refusing to move You are the storm damaged house, the hole in my roof You are my rheumatoid joints, two steel leviathans scraping together. You are the devil on my back, the lumber puncture I don’t need. You are my stale last slice, and cold cup of tea, You are the fly in my soup, the shark in my stew
By Keith Mole3 years ago in Poets
Chewing Gum
She had a walk like a hyena in search of company, bad company do you know what I mean? Her breath like icicles on your tongue, Sweeter than a five – nil victory over Manchester, Every fibre united in perfect unison like some black velvet river or perhaps a Guinness, an angel’s kiss in every drop.
By Keith Mole3 years ago in Poets
Treasure Hunt
Molly jabbed her spade into the warm December sand and flicked each shovelful over her shoulder. She loved Treasure Hunt here on Paraparaumu beach. Each year the Kapiti Council arranged this dig for toddlers and preschool children. At stake were a new bike and several other splendid prizes. All you had to do was find one of the six medallions hidden in the sand above the watermark and then run to the prize desk to see what you had won.
By Keith Mole3 years ago in Horror
