Hibernation

Yeah. I caught that look matey, I’ve seen it many a time; You’re picturing me, young and carefree- All shiny, in my prime.   Yeah I’ve still got it don’t ya know. The Muck’s just dirt, not rust. Even though I’m sitting low, this engine’s full of thrust.   Are you the one who’ll take me … More Hibernation

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  

Heavenly Glimpses

I was irresistibly drawn to the above words today. Not for their original, intended meaning, but in a deeply intense, personal manner. As my ‘About’ section suggests, I am a midnight writer, and begin writing usually after the witching hour has begun. My eyes often sting, and I have to flail my thoughts in to some … More Heavenly Glimpses

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

Improvising

To become a snail, when human, is quite a thing. To make one’s home mobile, and transport it to a new place, is yet another. To convey one’s family in the same frail shell is yet another permutation. One which I undertook in August, along with my wife and Four Year Old son. We went … More Improvising

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

Streets of Lansdown

  Have you seen the landlord, Who owns a third of Lansdown, Sucking up the rent To fund his year-long cruise? In his eyes you see pound signs, Glinting at the arrears fines, Interest just soaring, Oh how could he lose?   So how can you tell me that my nation’s broke? And say we … More Streets of Lansdown

Divine

What a wondrous thing To wander through a garden. Deftly led by its creator. To watch those loving hands caress floral finery. See a place through another’s eyes. Bathe in coaxed colours and textures, Swaying branches bedecked by leaves, as if coral Deep within a reef. Finding pleasure in every twisting turn of treble clef … More Divine

Conducting Ripples

A gentle dragging cools the veins. Flexed feet carving the glassy surface; Eddying grainy dunes rise and fall beneath toes. Play of light on dazzling water. No beach here- The wide river bed channels clear waters Skimmed over by cobalt damsel flies, Reflected charcoal crow-wings flash past, Gone before upward glances seek them. Downward, always … More Conducting Ripples