A room of one's own
Or was it
A room with a view
Actually my first room of one’s own
Had nothing of a view
Indeed the Venetian blinds ensured that
Yet, o yes yet, a place of love
A place of creativity
A place, yes a place of one's own
I might tell you
Of Lyle Lovett on the stereo
Of Rothko prints on the wall
I may tell you
Of hours and hours
Of peaceful pastel sketching
I will tell you
I am there right now
In that space, of nigh on thirty years ago
Tuesday 12 June 2018
Monday 11 June 2018
Month
And now the February sunlight
Falls on the fabricated flagstones
And climbs up the dried clematis
A small patch of grass flickers
In what you presume to be
A fairly, chill to the core, breeze
Soon there will be a birthday
Just as, not so so long ago
It was for you, yes your birthday
Thus there will be more words exchanged
From one side of the world
To the other side of the sunlight
Falls on the fabricated flagstones
And climbs up the dried clematis
A small patch of grass flickers
In what you presume to be
A fairly, chill to the core, breeze
Soon there will be a birthday
Just as, not so so long ago
It was for you, yes your birthday
Thus there will be more words exchanged
From one side of the world
To the other side of the sunlight
Sunday 10 June 2018
AM Reveille
Awake, and writing, before sunrise
Asking your own questions
Providing your own answers
Deliberating on your circumstances
Imagining your own future
Meanwhile
The sky did change its hue
The orb began to glow
A goodness was felt all around
Even among the trickier words
Asking your own questions
Providing your own answers
Deliberating on your circumstances
Imagining your own future
Meanwhile
The sky did change its hue
The orb began to glow
A goodness was felt all around
Even among the trickier words
Saturday 9 June 2018
Mind,That’s All
That thing about the mind
Did I write it down
You know
About the mind being able to look at itself
Both in the past moments
As well as in the present moments
And also sometimes, with an eye to the future
What I really appreciated
Was that the mind could question itself
I even half-believed
That the mind could work out
Where the thoughts came from
You know
By focussing on the present moment
And the immediately preceding moment
And then the one just before that
In such a way that a trail might emerge
Why you thought that thought about Bude
You know, about walking on the beach in Bude
Of course, looking from a further distance
Bude has many reminders to remember
Many occasions of joy, also of that other thing
Which, whatever name the mind gives it
Is always something of a half-way house
Did I write it down
You know
About the mind being able to look at itself
Both in the past moments
As well as in the present moments
And also sometimes, with an eye to the future
What I really appreciated
Was that the mind could question itself
I even half-believed
That the mind could work out
Where the thoughts came from
You know
By focussing on the present moment
And the immediately preceding moment
And then the one just before that
In such a way that a trail might emerge
Why you thought that thought about Bude
You know, about walking on the beach in Bude
Of course, looking from a further distance
Bude has many reminders to remember
Many occasions of joy, also of that other thing
Which, whatever name the mind gives it
Is always something of a half-way house
Friday 8 June 2018
Stuck,That’s All
Where might the words begin
When they don’t begin
Where might the pause and comma go
When the line itself does not have a throw
Where do millions of hidden memories perch
How am I able to instigate a search
What causes the good times to surface
Or doubts to endlessly pour out their purchase
When they don’t begin
Where might the pause and comma go
When the line itself does not have a throw
Where do millions of hidden memories perch
How am I able to instigate a search
What causes the good times to surface
Or doubts to endlessly pour out their purchase
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