Sunday, 5 February 2017
Monday, 23 January 2017
Monday, 10 October 2016
HOLD YOUR BELIEFS LIGHTLY (and trust the BITE)
It all went wrong when we started wearing shoes
to begin with there were a few who refused
but with time they became amused
by the idea of a STRoNG SOLE
to protect a sensitive soul
Monday, 22 August 2016
Peggy Freydberg 107 year old poet
CHORUS OF CELLS
Every morning,
even being very old,
(or perhaps because of it),
I like to make my bed.
In fact, the starting of each day
unhelplessly,
is the biggest thing I ever do.
I smooth away the dreams disclosed by tangled sheets,
I smack the dented pillow’s revelations to oblivion,
I finish with the pattern of the spread exactly centered.
The night is won.
And now the day can open.
even being very old,
(or perhaps because of it),
I like to make my bed.
In fact, the starting of each day
unhelplessly,
is the biggest thing I ever do.
I smooth away the dreams disclosed by tangled sheets,
I smack the dented pillow’s revelations to oblivion,
I finish with the pattern of the spread exactly centered.
The night is won.
And now the day can open.
All this I like to do,
mastering the making of my bed
with hands that trust beginnings.
All this I need to do,
directed by the silent message
of the luxury of my breathing.
mastering the making of my bed
with hands that trust beginnings.
All this I need to do,
directed by the silent message
of the luxury of my breathing.
And every night,
I like to fold the covers back,
and get in bed,
and live the dark, wise poetry of the night’s dreaming,
dreading the extent of its improbabilities,
but surrendering to the truth it knows and I do not;
even though its technicolor cruelties,
or the music of its myths,
feels like someone else’s experience,
not mine.
I like to fold the covers back,
and get in bed,
and live the dark, wise poetry of the night’s dreaming,
dreading the extent of its improbabilities,
but surrendering to the truth it knows and I do not;
even though its technicolor cruelties,
or the music of its myths,
feels like someone else’s experience,
not mine.
I know that I could no more cease
to want to make my bed each morning,
and fold the covers back at night,
than I could cease
to want to put one foot before the other.
to want to make my bed each morning,
and fold the covers back at night,
than I could cease
to want to put one foot before the other.
Being very old and so because of it,
all this I am compelled to do,
day after day,
night after night,
directed by the silent message
of the constancy of my breathing,
that bears the news I am alive.
all this I am compelled to do,
day after day,
night after night,
directed by the silent message
of the constancy of my breathing,
that bears the news I am alive.
Sunday, 7 August 2016
high n low (captions at top from now on)
In the sky-tree house
Gundam gonna steal your Christmas
Floating on some black magic
drenched in the spectrum
who ever said clash?
seeing green n orange in the leftover wild west (nikko and some crumbling places)
green sunrise
imagining autumn in this place
my mate ali G
appearing in orange on a bench near you
howdy partner
no one liked the food
the proud owners of a house whose back garden is a fake mt. rushmore. pickett fence under construction, hide your wives and husbands
what's up doc.
cleaners busy playing pokemon go
yard art
P L A Y
put em up
lock em up
don't show up
your driver awaits
nature taking back the throne
quick trip to ladyville
FREE SHOTS
not those kinda shots
these shots too
I thought mother told you to tidy your room
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)