Pages

Saturday, 2 May 2015

Hist

Words in Amsterdam
Far and away from Zen

This land of smoke and mirrors
Houses that stand, or lean
Front to back, side to side
Five, six, seven storeys high

There goes another tram
Judaism crossed by when

In this hall of talk and jitters
Tales that demand, or mean:
Leave some slack, take a ride
Thrive, fix, why heavens nearby


Friday, 1 May 2015

Vittles

Less clear
The beer
In the restaurant

No fear
We have taken
Our photographs already


Thursday, 30 April 2015

On Landing

Is there phlegm when you cough
The doctor asked
Are there bicycles in Amsterdam
I should have said

Is the warm head
Another sign of my illness
Or do the busy places
Always burn so brightly


Wednesday, 29 April 2015

Let Vacation Begin

Talk is of snowboards
Skateboards without wheels
Offers the grey haired older man

Father of the middle aged son
Who is doing most of the talking

Utah apparently is a good place
I therefore presume that these folks
Are related to the founding fathers

Descendants of those Boston pilgrims
Why else to be in Humberside Airport

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

75

The book I have in mind to write is to do with recovery, recovery from the dark lights of life, and recovery from the dark lights of a several times broken heart.

The book will deal much with therapy, with many therapies, with many witch doctors magic methodologies, with many placebos, with the many failed and the few successful cures.

Longing will remain, it is one truth of life; longing may subside but it doesn't disappear, that is my belief, one reinforced through experience.

Firstly I will lay down a few facts, in some sort of chronological order. I will then group these facts into some sort of well thought out sets, placed on co-ordinates, in that x,y,z continuum that is the three dimensions of time, space and heartache.

From this cosmos, with multiple orbits, I will explore some of the perceived wisdom in the literature; you may expect a few quotations, from Jung to Nietzsche, from Dickinson to Plath, and from all spheres in between.

Unlike the poetry, which precedes this work, I will aim to distance myself from the particular, that is except where a detailed explanation of the particular might bring a smile to our eyes.

And who is to read this book? Why lovers of course; those falling into love, those falling out of love, and those beautiful souls found wandering on the precipice somewhere between somehow being in love and somehow being out of love.

Be ready to nudge me if I ramble, I won't intend to but sometimes the streams of the sub-conscious just take over.