Bath has been full of pilgrims seeking Paradise: Shangri-La, Music Mecca, call it what you will. Now? They have arrived: greeted by flags. A year of desire begins to be sated… For me, this SO bittersweet. I observe through a screen, through a lens the joy of others. Glittered, beautiful faces. Arms raised, arched in … More I shalt covet thy ticket.
When I found you, you were ragged. So dusty. Sleeveless in the cold of your neglect. Though metal-rimmed. Built to last. Bumping through the decades, from storage to storage. But what did you mean? You were and are a demo. So: Did you spark a tryst? Give words to some unspoken love? Why didn’t … More What did you mean?
I look at me three decades ago. Or you, rather. I’m unrecognisable now. Every cell thrice renewed. I wish I could take your head between my hands, Look in to your eyes and say ‘Your mind is wired strangely. Talk to people about it, in all its frenzied energy’. I would say ‘Swim every day. … More Oh Dear Me
A dance in three movements. All of expression is here, from rhythmic rise to syncopated sway. To flow again. Beneath, a gentle roll presses on tide-scoured stones. Borne aloft by a lunar score. Above is the floating hang; the breath before the crescendo. At the pinnacle, spume- tossed sprites waltz, then pirouette in to … More A dance in triple time
To the rest of the world, the leafy nursing home Sunset Oaks was a picture of calm repose. At 3.26 am even the night staff were asleep, and but for the occasional thrum of the boiler room all was silent. Even the keenest of ears would have missed the jazz music escaping from the soundproofed mahogany door … More Nevil and Alf-Part One
It was the best part of a very shitty day. Sitting on the decking, Fin listened to the starlings and savoured his cigarette. The last of the colours were leaching out of the sky, and a bat skittered overhead. He revelled in the quietness. Replaying the argument in his head he drew on the fag … More Smoke Signal
There was no hiding in that place. Not really. Yet it was all about hiding. Escaping. However briefly. Once through the brittle plastic doors, there was a muffled dustiness within the solid walls and low ceilings which was comforting. Dry and dusty, the place felt dampened, with a faint hint of spice. Noises were occasionally discernible, … More The Book Barn- Part 1
Every burning fibre of my being yearns To take your weary face between my open palms, Lift your blinding shrouds and gently Tilt your head heavenward. Yet I would not, though it pains me. Nay, not for all the world. For you endure, graceful one- Strong, despite every and all of the odds. Unaided. … More Springs Eternal
It is hide and seek for adults. Blue light- sunlight shuttered, save for bordered slivers. Cool sheets. Head laid softly to rest after a sleepless night. Outside, Gates creaking: foot-falling, letter-slotted sounds. Thrum of engines, Whisps of songs from car radios Diminishing. Snatches of converstion. Dust motes dancing in the light shafts of the window. … More Sleeping in the Day
I might just as well just post a hyperlink to a Youtube clip for this entry. I could do. Maybe I should. Mark Knopfler’s performances need to be seem to be believed. Yet to do so I feel would be a disservice to a supreme communicator. A person who has for over four decades … More Knopfler