These words are for anybody and everybody who has read my words since I began sharing them last October. I have four words for you: Thank you all wholeheartedly. To know and to see that people read my words is an utter joy. You have given me the confidence to carve out a voice, and … More Brief Hiatus
You are but new to the world Yet I know you to your very bones. Deeper, indeed. I was shown you on a screen Before you arrived. As your fragile self bound itself together. Now here, you are full of the joys of Spring, Summer. Autumn. Winter: a calendar of joys Captured in moments too … More Growth
All I ask, Today: For myself, more and more, Is less and less. Nothing, save The chance to rest In the here and now Entirely. To feel grass upon my back, and Gaze at whirling birds carving the sky, With my face in the sun. Only this. To be calm, and drink in the now. … More All I ask
I never fully understood the phrase ‘coming out of the woodwork’ until today. Today was marvellous. In my neighbourhood, one of the many hills, or ‘down’s’ of Bath, it was busy. People were active. Out and about, and on a mission. In my own street, where I have lived for 6 years, I saw over … More In out in out you shake it all about.
Memories are an odd concept. They are unpredictable, and in my brain can present as solid, liquid or gas. My memories are classified by these three states. Some are carved- hewn out of fact and indelible. Others are more fluid-I can bathe in them, but never grasp them. Some, the taunting ones, are a whisper … More Do you remember?
Mare’s tails and vapour trails traverse the sky above, My nation riven in two parts, fuelled by hate and love. This warring Isle will gather near to cast its final vote; Change is nigh, its in the sky, both sides all primed to gloat. My mind is set, my choice is made, My … More Mare’s tails and vapour trails
Originally posted on Tom Tide thinking:
I should be burned, dead and buried. God knows, I could have helped them burn. Soap does burn, does it not? I am made of ash and oil. Twas my place to soothe, though. To aid. To cleanse. My current station? To laquer a haunted Thane with fresh layers…
I should be burned, dead and buried. God knows, I could have helped them burn. Soap does burn, does it not? I am made of ash and oil. Twas my place to soothe, though. To aid. To cleanse. My current station? To laquer a haunted Thane with fresh layers of guilt, year by year. They … More Thane Of Strife
When I was growing up, my bedroom was in the loft of my parents house. I had to ascend a steel ladder, and If I so wished could shut a hinged trapdoor against the rest of the house. Hermetically sealed and Ten years old, I would read Arthur C Clarke novels and listen to Mike … More When I Grow Up
I can build a whole world around a scent. One single, sensual scent can send me spinning off and throwing out images in a mad kaleidoscope of colours. There is both wonder and awe in this, as the memory of a notable scent haunts me, and can resurface at any point, completely unbidden. Yet these … More Haunting