Tag: Journal
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28 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
A Journal of Recent Thoughts A Look Over My Shoulder There’s the blessing.The beatitude.The polite old ones spill from the church,gather for a chat, shake hands.Then tea and biscuits on the white linen tables. I’m in the rectory, pouring over old records,births and deaths,who is and who isn’tburied in sacred ground.In uneven mud and bitten…
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8 Sept: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week The O In Moon A Pearl of a Moon I dreamt I heldreigns on the sky,on that pearl of the moonand its back-lit sky. I dreamt nightwas black and white keys,like the feathersin a magpie’s song. And I dreamt musiccame from a faraway staras it slid cold through…
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5 Sept: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week The U In Thunder Orchestra It’s so close that her hands feelit prowling her edges.She feels the pressure of its gripa sleight-of-hand drop of rain. And she opens her handand invites its heart into hers.This sky-bound electrical blipthis quarrel with equilibrium. And she is too damned happy. Written…
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2 September: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week The I In It (a cadralor poem) Scio Me Nescire – I Know That I Know Nothing I.They call from a glaze of grey skies marked with white stars of geese,a band of loud trombone songsblowing through small clouds. II.This day is pulled by change,a season’s race pipped…
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12 July: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week The I In It She’s a Seven Nation Army How much of that dayshould I hope to remember …. the warm dust rising behind the carmy mother’s outthrust chinmy mother’s instructional glance her suntanned skinher leaf-brown hair another dress from the same pattern…. but different fabric…. she’s yellow…
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6 December: Somewhere There’s Always Chocolate
Somewhere near the equator, my youngest son is explaining to his daughter of nearly 6 years why she can’t have chocolate for breakfast, in much the same way that I explained to him when he was 6, why he couldn’t eat chocolate for breakfast, and much like my mum explained to me that eating chocolate…
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27 November: Journal
27 November:It’s still morning. Time slows when there’s no external noise. No radio. No telly. No talking. No music … except for the shallow sound of his breathing as he reads the Sunday’s paper. Sunday always becomes Monday, if you judge the date by a newspaper. Saturday is thicker than weekdays. Sundays less so than…
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26 November: Journal
25 November:I’m sitting in my chair. Reclined. Fingers locked across my lap. Eyes closed, and headphones isolating me from vague noise. I’m listening to I Walk With Ghosts by Scott Buckley. Violins in deep centred waves. Spiral rebirth – I fall into a shallow sleep. A shallow breath. Strings drawing out my every thought into…
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22 September: Idling Thoughts on a Road Trip
21.09.23 (563 words: reading time 3 minutes) 09:57Cows find their way on to fields where they shouldn’t. It is life beyond language. 10:00Hay stacked in blocks of henges. The next farm, rolls ambered disks. Like fallen moons. Grounded on a field. With cows. Wind haunts the air. 10:20Birch. Curvaceous green in the wind. Air is…
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20 September: Idling Thoughts on a Road Trip
19.09.23 08:10The rain is a tantrum. It’s dashing itself against the window as if it were a ship on the rocks. He’s staring at it. It will pass, he says. You sound like Nostradamus, I tell him. Or Moses parting water. 08:15He’s still standing at the window. Looking. Rain and sea. Wind in syllables. This…
It's Still Life 