Visited an art gallery at lunchtime. I felt less than engaged with the works on show -maybe because of stress. An old lady spied earlier,now out of her wheelchair,she came shuffling into the room as I was leaving there. Raising her black gloved hand to me,gently, I placed my hand in hers and she said… Continue reading Terrestrial Encounter
I had a small idea of what was going onbefore teen years, but really not so much andI had no reason to deal with it, directly At 16 - 21, more ideabut life was busy, I remained occupied, enraptured or stonedwhichever, what happened out there, I really didn't share in From that point on, I… Continue reading Is Global Chaos Awareness Simply Relative to One’s Age?
I often feel the urge to clean Dirty road signs, 30 Speed limit, a fingerpost, route Confirmation, place nameOr neglected row of bollards And refresh a telephone boxSanitise the handsetSparkle the windows, leave a bowl Of potpourri on shelf After all, the obscuring grime Put there, for some of itI'm responsible. A visit Proves so… Continue reading We Want Our Road Signs & Street Furniture Clean!
Anything? At all? The timing's quite tightis my belief: Elvis, deadthe Pistols rise to fame His last performancethe summer of '77 Their firstnotedperformance1976 When did they receive initial airplayin the USofA? I am weaned-offinternet search enginesI reckon a guessis good enough What would The Kinghave made of the anarchists? And they of him? Let's imaginebriefly:… Continue reading What Did Elvis Know About the Sex Pistols?
If the plug ever gets pulledon the internet and theworld wide web collapsesinto a silk thread mess how will we tell the weather?We'll look out through our windows there every morningwe'll eye the sky Everyone will learn about clouds againunderstand what the hues of redorange and purple meanthe breeze and the rain the behaviour of… Continue reading Looks Like Sunshine
I wonder of the last meaningful word I'll utter, mutter, perhaps merely think of, for that matter, if I have lost the desire or ability to speak. As a baby, I know for sure, repetition formed my world. Habits grew. The least most era, spiked around my teens. But since then, an ever decreasing and… Continue reading i repeat myself