Who am I? What makes me different from you? Why what is so obvious to me, is alien to you? Do I love myself; hate myself, what is ‘Self’? My eyes see, or do they? The mystery of identity, this strange endless coastline that draws me to its wandering hopes, where I meet the ghost […]
Happy in one’s skin? Read More »
Children’s voices on dancing tones meet my ears, this lonely corner of Suffolk so fixed in the mind. Here I am again, in visions land of secrets. None but you know my heart. The ‘poets tearful fooling’ has caused me to wander this way again, in visions windy autumn madness. Now as my day dulls,
Hill Rise to Shaddelows farm Read More »
Got up this morning to the mind circus, masses of memory flowers invaded my conscience. A log floating down an old Suffolk river passing a small white boat, why so vivid that day when dad and me lazed in the wonder of that long English summer? These days I can hardly remember my name, but
Vast measureless sunset, I look into your miles, I once came to you new every evening, when you spoke to us of your glories, and the young men and women of England dreamed through the smile of your timelessness. Darkened by the evening’s ashes, we now search your skies, fires smolder where we once stood
The green grass of Star meadow, now imprisoned under thick concrete. Leamington Spa on a windy autumn day long ago, you, the clown of all glory, like some strange spirit on the lonely street, trying to make sense of two people crashing into a 1960’s dream. Black P.V.C. overcoat, long black hair. Torn between life
Truth comes in strange disguises Read More »
Driving to my hometown, I took the turning to Devils dyke, when suddenly the Sat Nav voice said, ‘Turn left, then left again, and keep on turning left” so I did. I completely lost my way. I came to a long queue of traffic and a kind of tollgate. The man on the gate had
What Hell could be like? Read More »
There’s an old man on a ancient footpath that I walk, every time I meet him he greets me with a smile and a, “Hallow nice to see you again!’ He has arthritis, his body is invaded with pain but, how his eyes shine, it’s as if he has access to a grand secret. Good
Hoping for Dignity Read More »
A day of a past leaf is blowing through my mind, a black and white time of Kodak Brownie pictures and sandwiches on the old seaside sand. Childhood glories in ribboned hair and sandals, a day of candy- floss pure fun. Inside of children forever hidden, youth’s young glory, when everything was known, mysterious mystery
A glance at sympathy Read More »
The Question that nobody hears, the moment that passes, empty fenlands where water meadows hold the tears of the dead, and laughing Seagulls deride the ever hopeful. I once knew the smiles of the gloriously naïve, before childhood was stolen by market forces and misery sellers. The question could be put quite simply, ‘Why don’t
Empty Spaces Vacant responses Read More »
When I go people will say things. Don’t listen to them. People and friends love to put a nice full stop on things. Funerals are usually a theatre for the mourners. Very seldom do they relate to the dead. The body in the coffin will prove that silence speaks the truth. And what of me?
Gentle as a clear summer evening Read More »