We are bound together, you and I. Fierce friend, brave ally. We grow together, light we chase, Intertwined in deep embrace. © Tom Tide 2016
I updated my ‘About’ description today. Almost a year after first writing it. Perhaps worth a read if you have enjoyed any of my posts. It means a great deal to me if you have. Thank you. Good evening all xXx
The whole complex, road-veined, hill-strewn window-lined network like a coiled watch spring tight with excitement. Lights click on and off in binary code: asleep or awake. Shadowed silhouettes glide behind blinds and curtains, travelling the grooves the cogs the movements of their lives. Teeming activity. At night, an alarming illumination. As the city ticks down. … More Clockwork City on National Poetry Day!
A carved face. Your chiselled features surrounded by heavenly curves. Hair whitened as if by flecks flung from your tools. In your chapel of marble, with slender legs Encased in linen, veined like purest Carrera. Arms folded, cradling your strong hands- The soul of your art. © Tom Tide 2016
Always engines busy. Motorbike gears shifting fast. TV window lights flicker. Turn of keys in doors. Testing locks in nighttime rituals. Garden gates creak. Swooping planes gliding in to land (at least two awake- One would hope). Wind waltzing through leaves Gathering dew soundless. Folk abed. In a hive. My lone fag, a Burning tip: … More Midnight Cigarette
I do not like shattered windows. The jagged, gaping neglect. Even boarded up spaces are better. Brutal, but at least somebody cares. Unless. Unless that space is retained. Protected, until all else is ready, Polished, and flush to the winds. Then, and only then Will the former glory be replenished. Reinstated. Restored. © Tom Tide … More Exposed to the elements
Three months ago I wrote about a ruined cottage. It is now being restored. A landscape reframed. Framing industry. Industrial landscaping, Landscaped Still. Still beautiful? Beautiful restoration Restoring a home. To the eye of the beholder- © Tom Tide 2016
I count myself blessed. I may be but a window, but I am frequented. We Tuscan windows are known as ‘the eyes of buildings’. Eyes are oft known as ‘the windows to the soul’. Therefore, I count myself soulful. I am an observer of encounters: both voyeuristic and by mutual consent. A connoseur of many … More Allegedly (an imagining of what the window from ‘Much Ado about Nothing’ would say, given half the chance.
I had a magical experience today. I travelled through my home town, the city of Bath, on a coach. Flying at approximately six feet. It was a treat. You see, l always drive, and drive at car-level, so I enjoyed being a passenger immensely. I felt indulged. For some inexplicalble reason I suddenly felt Six, … More Through the Looking Glass