google, i get pictures of the amazon and related places,

being scoured, and a dead

horses head.



he said that some are lying on their ages.



I expect sir if you were there, so  would

you.



the politician.



the jungle in calais.



sbm.

( written by friends who know and shared here with their permission)

don't dwell on ****,
the past has passed.
and throw the drugs
down the toilet.

do the things that make
you feel better,
and avoid the things
that make you feel crap.

whatever they are.

eat and drink
things
that make you feel nice,
and be in such places.

know who your friends are
and know how much to load
on them.

force your self
out of bed in
the morning,
go for a walk
enjoy nature.

get a dog.

avoid the news,
and depressing tv.

know
your own routine,
and don't let other people
tell you it is wrong
or feel guilty about it

but also know the line
between what is your own
paranoia and anxieties,
and what is just normal
emotion
and reaction.

be aware of reality,
and how you are
deviating from it.

get over yourself,
and lighten up.

some of it is
indeed physical and psycological,
but much of it
is just ******.

Take as much advice
as can be ,
but it is up
to the individual
to make the decision to change.

as you know.

jo *** was killed in june.



today is not a general thing,

it is a silent day, while apples fall

naturally.



we could not reach them,

how

they drop. drop

to the ground.

drop to the slurry.

drop.

today is apple day.

generally speaking.







sbm

#aberfan

#brexit

I cannot remember the date it occurred, possibly early autumn.



We noticed he was eating more than usual, a whole swiss roll after meals. Then he fell off his bike, and a neighbour brought him home. He worked on the railway, cycled the eight miles to the station; it was on Leybourne hill he collapsed.

Only we did not think of it as a collapse until the doctor came.







once again we come back to ourselves, our life ,

the reality of  things, we stumble through

neatly.



while all around is trembling , we weave together

with dreams and possibilies.



there is not much more to add, it is lighter

now.                                       birds sing early.



once again we come back to ourselves.



sbm.

we went on the bus to visit, we must have used two yet i cannot quite remember.



i felt fear and excitement, the same emotion as when i overheard that he had died.



felt guilty over that ever since.



while visiting i was sent to the corner shop for sweets and ****.i felt useful yet in latter years have reconsidered the task.



plans were imagined for his christmas gift.



he never made it that far.



sbm.

how do they know to come back,

how

to come back? .                   i asked

steaming at central          station.



they were sending

eggs by post those days, and dad

sent primroses,              i am told.



in boxes.



remember the day we bought

the cat, placed in a      special

one  for                       carrying,

marked                         pigeon.



became his name.



they sent them away by train,

later



we imagined we saw them fly

back.



sbm.

harrogate in the rain.



cheap umbrella broke,

a delightful shade of pink,

abandoned.



abandoned the street

for the parlour, the crown.



mourned my shoes, wet



and ripping.



dripping

white nubuck.



watched the trees,

falling leaves.



good coffee

opposite

the pumproom.



harrogate.



sbm.