Never

It may be cold. There may be wind as harsh as a blade. It will soak me to the skin. Yet it will never. Ever. Be repetitive.   © Tom Tide 2017   Advertisements

Aberystwyth

I lived on the seafront for two years. For two out of three years of my degree, my calendar was dictated by the waves and seasons. June sunbathing on the stony shore after lectures. November kitchen tea-sipping, whilst  gazing at waves battering Victoria Terrace bringing with them pebbles that strafed the road. Cycling down the … More Aberystwyth

Night Sea

Porthgwidden, that most welcoming of sands. Blue in the sapphire moonlight. At moonrise, the waves are amplified. Becoming the soft breathing of sleeping giants. Gulls glide ghostly above the midnight black waters as the surf draws contoured hills on the sloping tideline.   Busy ships twinkle: stars in a velvet sky, with no horizon. All … More Night Sea

Self Portrait

This is me. No grandiloquent celebration- Just a snapshot on a cold morning. Selfie? I loathe the word. No this is me making a record through a record through a mirror through a lens. This is me today. Right now. Hello.   © Tom Tide 2016  

Over and Over Again

Folks in Bath must have looked upwards in days gone by. Look up today, in 2016, and you will see faded, flaking murals. Murals over murals. Adverts skillfully painted by hand on to the corners of buildings. Flowing fonts and delicate pigments. So precise, and yet in their decay somehow reminiscent of Titian. Crumbling frescoes. … More Over and Over Again

Ghost Sign

This is Ghost Sign, my poem about a beautiful mirror and gilt shop sign that was rediscovered behind paneling in Bath recently. Hidden for nearly 70years, its discovery marks the building’s transition from Fancy Dress shop to a Bar and Restaurant.   Ghost Sign What did you hear, in all those years locked away Boarded and barricaded? … More Ghost Sign

Take Me

Bathwick. Bath. 1927. Valeria had watched the man for over a week now, and always in the early morning. From her solitary table on the balcony terrace she would first hear the gentle slap and pull of his oars working the river, then see him glide slowly in to view. Straining on the oars and … More Take Me

Seas Of St Ives

Cerulean. Aquamarine. Cobalt. Sage. Sorrel. All undulating in shimmering bars. Matt and impenetrable in cloud, yet translucent and brilliant when brought to life by light. A spectrum of water colours swirling langorously and loyally around an achingly beautiful enclave. Surrounded almost entirely by tides, that have sulpted the deeply loved land as they do driftwood, all … More Seas Of St Ives

The Revenant

Who is that? Startled by an unfamiliar recognition, now jolted back from listlessness. All presently begrimed in hazy reflection. Shadows seeping in to corners. This moment, this raw moment reproduced faithfully. Faithfully- in all its grubby hand-flinching nervousness. Backlit gracefully by warm brightness That welcomes you home To yourself.   © Tom Tide 2016   … More The Revenant

Brothers In Arms

Sometimes you have to cross great voids With arms that know you well; That feel, before the bend arrives That you are steeped in hell.   That scoop you up, then drive you on, To make your final stand; Then jettison your flailing arms To lunge toward the sand.   The time will come to … More Brothers In Arms