I come here late, hospital pyjamas,

was it body or brain paralysis

that kept me there, tired

lace curtains drawn.



I lay as a child, arm high

tracing patterns and bows,

thinking in the wind,

when there is no wind?



to the door i find

earth smell, light rain

and music from the overflow.

little toads still hazard,

everywhere, everywhere.



i warned you yesterday,

tread very gently my dears

is quiet just the radio yet,
& did i hear the water
run next door.
i drew the dress yesterday
with the star.

the dress that is hardly there
& very there
it must never fade in memory
so i have fixed
the ***** marks & smudges
the hurt & pain
& pinned the badge
again

it is probably the marks of the work i like

the logs stacked neatly

old things reused



the idea that we will leave the wild wood alone

while he does not



like the old things used

not discarded



it may be the stitches holding things together with



care and honesty



we each have our own rules

my radio played

the memorial



he said that they

shut them inside

and burned  them

to the ground





the villagers

is quiet just the radio yet,
& did i hear the water
run next door.
i drew the dress yesterday
with the star.

the dress that is hardly there
& very there
it must never fade in memory
so i have fixed
the ***** marks & smudges
the hurt & pain
& pinned the badge
again

i suggested you did not watch while

mr gove spat fire

venom & blood



yet you did

and could not raise yourself

this morning



i will cover you with wool

and you may remain so

all day

partially due to the weather

state of the roads



these are not just closed

due to snow

some

as cars slide          cause a commotion



it is a steep hill the crimea

some call it a mountain



steeped in history



plans change while

the bus windows remain *****



it has been a long time coming

it lasted many years now is gone



all of it

all the straight ideals and weathered work



who will come laughing?



who else loves rusted nails

reddened eyes?



all things change except they say one





look at

squirrels and disarray

the river ebbs  flows

tidal
otter marks erased

our lane quiet now

locals walk            leaves stir



birds fly up

in passing remember then

we laugh again



he  will bring logs again

there were four of us

and mum



dad went away early



we played in cuckoo woods

sometimes



people dumped stuff

not often



once



there was a mattress with springs

so we tied some to our feet with string

and bounced



later i hid in trees



i know some of you like to hear more

i feel we were quite a jolly bunch



at first



until i realised

we were not





#springintoaction

as opposed to funny we are constantly relocated

looking into suitcases and meeting places,we find another idea

amusing as opposed to   witty

hide away

nice as opposed to the opposite



no pattern

say yes

it is a habit born not from birth

your nurture

stop no. & think

yes is possible

there is none shame in the opposite

(=  some)

almost rhymes with it



wait a while

6 am.    he refused

6.30 am. he refused unless

7.00 am. he will not unless

7.30 am.  he will if…….



#JC  #news  #bbc

have you collected seeds of many years   packed  labelled   dated

do you have them now in boxes

a gift from those who love



they will bring  work  joy   an independent air

profound gifts

for those who care



have you
leaned by the window cold

thought that if snow falls it may land

if trees grow it may be up

if we all plant seeds they may be food



kindness



deserves  praise yet should come as natural



there may be too many additives these day

not enough honesty grown



she said i should have something new in the greenhouse.



i have

i said, and thought of you



who



planted the seeds



sbm.

maybe  eleven . she was not mad.



brother dead



mother failed



. no



question of normality.



they stated how it was

a fact



no one mentioned abuse

some questions are never asked





i cannot spell psychiatrist

to be spoken in clear voice…



howard rose profoundly swearing ; his end perforated  with a rose thorn from the thicket

his friends found his behaviour boring, wondering what he had been boring down there in the hedge

howard removed his suit to apply the ointment to his wound, yet it did not suit his skin.

he felt inclined to seek help for this affliction, got up to quickly and fell down the incline.

‘**** it’ he yelled,’ now i have ripped my trousiers and do not know how to **** and mend them’

so he hid in the shed where he shed all his garments and bared his soul.        
                                                                                                                                                                       tada!

i need to tell you something



i needed to tell you sometime ago

now



i hesitate again

look down



regret my first sentence

now



maybe will say it some other time

now

it was the bow that done it

confusing the issue

& the hair



gender equation



his tongue sprang out pink

his knees buckled



embarrassed by the tag

labelled annie



while all the while

he felt like a boy



these things / these things



yet when recovered stood proudly before us ears

pricked high



while the man laid the fire



taste the ash

there it is, underneath.

old black book,

word and image,

i made of you.



grandfather.



only realistically,

i suppose you are not, but

that is what we call you.



the black book is found,

will be shown around.

funny thing is, i talk like a sketch book now.

you ask for a fantasy ,a challenge.

there is a house full of ideas, statements,

a house of dreams and nightmares.

i find it is your birthday today.



i have no zoom burst,
only this dodgy insect,
light and sound, is

pretty, i always
do my photo a day.

my htc wildfire
does not zoom,
tho once or twice,
has burst.

deleting his texts.



cold snap.

.the drawing room.



slightly astonished at  him using  the word foreigners

he was surprised she was from finland ‘of all places’. spoke to her loudly

bent

near as if she was deaf.                                    she spoke another language

&

she spoke english.



a country gentleman indeed.   surprised they came packaged this way



the exterior smart

the interior needs changing.



.the coffee shop.



they were trucked to siberia before the war, were starved

then

the british government moved them to africa ; brought them to

wales as the war ended

refugees



a polish village



over coffee she mentioned that although her family were safe

she felt that

‘we’ should not allow any more

refugees in over

here



i am still

sadly surprised



the kitchen



whilst peeling the apple the radio plays

an interview with  a wind rush lady

who also regrets our friends who come



here for better ways

saying they do not integrate these days

like she did



i will forever remain surprised

the days of heaven gold

are coming to its end.

are we the children

of the fall, those of us

who dance in the leaves,

who fail in the cold or the

brashness of summer



read about the courage of others,

about the closing of doors,

against the rain and the wind

blowing.

read about the loss of brothers,

about the moving of house

escaping pain,and remember

these golden days of autumn.

going



read about the perfection

that never is, the quality that fades

in time, with crosses,

people’s minds.

read about the rain in the cwm,

that blinds and blinds,

and loses paths and footings

**

read about the days

in the old house

the days that are, and were,

and may come with dreams,

and fortitude.

read about it all, and i ask,

why do you read

here?

i saw it sailing by

at the night watch

clouds arranged dramatic.

let it go,

oh let it go,

let it sail free



moon boat

a storm came yesterday,

dark and loud,

the landscape veiled,

awash, a while

black things fade,

and all is grey.

10.
**( words and uncertainty)

i am a painter and decorator

with colour and words

the confectioner,

i like sweets, jelly rings.

i shall measure uncertainty, probably

:: floods ::

seemed to be the topic, yesterday.

watched the water creep, saw the water

seep.

into the cellar, under the door.

down the lane to see the water,

meet the boys from reading,

their kayaks and head held cameras,

only about £200.

“my battery went flat,

we fell in, swimmimg,

and we cannot say

betws i coed”

i can , and i can say mawddach.

i remember the flood of 2001.

these are the shorter days, darker days, wood smoke, apple wood, colours of joy. believe in the world, that you can spell first time. be proud as you point out where you live…..

a story nonetheless, as are others. i prefer tintin

with snowy a dog. this year you have not told me,

confided. i have the little things that could mean

much.

not about money, more about family. it may

be time you told them.

it is time to regrade

christmas



easier now he is older
he tells me what he wants

i buy it
plus
a surprise

simpler now i am older
i tell them what i will like

they buy it
plus a surprise

dave asked about the utility bell, and war time candles,

following the wax theme, yesterday. i got my household

ones, 5 hours burning time, yet to be proved. they offered

me dinner candles, but i had leftovers ready, so kept quiet

on that score.

anyway, dave, over here, we had rationing as you know,

which continued afterward. things had to be simple,

saving stuff and time, and had a mark like two hungry birds.

mum bought the utility bell in woolworths, from the flat counter,

simple cut out metal, good colour, much valued in those days,

alongside papery chains and lanterns.

our tree had candles, i do not know when lights began,

i still have her candle ends left, fancy twisted, faded now.

i keep them special, use the newer ones , red and plain, and

remember my mum,

i will scan these to show you dave, later.

it is still raining.

ran out yesterday

lost you completely with the pattern in the sky

the leaves on the oak

on the mountain.       i lost you





you left the group

took off and flew



flight was not sustained

hovering over past demeanors

faltered

landed carefully



in disappointment hugging

affirming it did not matter



yet it did

it is the little things that excite so

in the height of summer low look for seeds

small flowers studded in hedgerows

dry stone walls

our lane remains dusty, unmade.

3.



what you see is magnified.
they leave here larger than life
petrified in their own forests.

scan beds and lens.

light the boxes.
tie the books closed, leather
bound

broken,

words lost.

boxes can be opened to
reveal.

4.

tiny things become intimate

they left the group

took off and flew.



flight was not sustained.



hovering over past demeanors



faltered, landed carefully



in disappointment, hugging,

affirming it did not matter.



yet it did.

she says they are nice pyjamas

comforting while

although she prefers air to circulate her lower parts

the winter nights require warmer wear



i agreed that pjs are the thing

and avoided talking about any

parts

at all



bought a few things at 40p

and left

for the hairdressers

a.

possibly

or

a

sleepy shrew

a

in boat

b. probably

woke,

not knowing the day.

i blame the varnish!

like a ghost in the night,

man handled by friends…..

white hook


redeeming feature
of the brown house

blaenau ffestiniog

the

again brings a sense

of permanence

while

familiarity did not breed

contempt



after dinner she went to church

where

she laughed shamefully

giblet soup with sherry

scrag of mutton



****** of burnet with parsley

the consistency of good cream

& of fried breadcrumbs

a melange



we make woollen cloth

the sight is disgusting

to the last degree



blind horse



liver sauce on fish



they turn the hay

eighteen

times

child in years

ancient in understanding

serve the blade

bone.

looking for mediocrity i only found

those baked in store

so leaving all ideals from family,

thrifty

went the extra score

bought them

two pounds

no bag nor receipt thank you



over coffee we discussed that in london

they can cost that much each and

we had four!



commented as we bit   sweet paste

that

crumbled / melted appropriately & helped

our spelling

when writing of them later

mince is christmas for pi

it is another language

It is nice to see you here
in the thread. I feel there
are rare visitors.

We continue to dream, move stones
and occupy a darker room. All things
come clear with light and service.

I too sleep with worry and just
sometimes pleasantries come.

1.

it is a four bedroom house



paid for.



nice

comfortable, full of fancy.



she says they are hard up

need a new car for the dog



i left early saying my door was unlocked.



had tea

listened to the radio

an interview with the homeless

.the drawing room.



slightly astonished at  him using  the word foreigners

he was surprised she was from finland ‘of all places’. spoke to her loudly

bent

near as if she was deaf.                                    she spoke another language

&

she spoke english.



a country gentleman indeed.   surprised they came packaged this way



the exterior smart

the interior needs changing.



.the coffee shop.



they were trucked to siberia before the war, were starved

then

the british government moved them to africa ; brought them to

wales as the war ended

refugees



a polish village



over coffee she mentioned that although her family were safe

she felt that

‘we’ should not allow any more

refugees in over

here



i am still

sadly surprised

it is required that you can be mythical

wear red when you prefer green &

like coca cola



it is required that you listen to

other stories different to yours

& equally relevant



you are required to give us lots of things

all that we ask for & do not need

you are required only when we want you



you are just for christmas

they come with bells, snow bits & pretty bonnets



this time of year brings changes

midwinter

a leonardo collective



sweet



it seems so innocent

still

look, though



there are implants in his hands

the days are numbered



boxed

an illustration of the boy

created

with implants in both hands



nothing moves

on the latter I concluded for myself that maybe best to do as we feel and think that is our choice to make.

we can give and think the person may be fake, or the other thought is that they may not be ….

she

lay  as dead did not speak                  nor ask for   fear

lay quiet        did not write nor tell          there    were

new shoes by the wardrobe                        at an angle



still



did not move nor participate in  anyway

did not breathe nor cry                        there are    new

shoes by the wardrobe                                  new shoes



found



guilty                                                             always guilty



there was no charge

there was no trial



there were no photographs

no evidence                                  no one talks of it no more



she no longer breathes



no more

looked at it while writing       distracting

while the pen ran out

studied it further



matt black brushed to cleanness

cavernous yawning quest



half mooned            flowers dancing

all the while             while



twinned atop currently

turn of the century



deco



shell rimmed

comely dark



a good reproduction

in reduction



salvage hunter

request stop. number

3

stationary.   smell of smoke come coal

excitement grinds to anxiety

4

distant repeating rhythm turns

screaming down the line



hang onto brothers      warm wool

soap hands



5



ticket tight

find the line               no crossing

train spotting



sense the future

i cannot see



blinded by naivety

mum said it was full of matter

I know it hurt like hell

so she

sat me on the kitchen table and put

a heated bottle to it and

cleaned it with a flannel



later it became more involved



erasing of words

the text



started a time back my friend

groups of us  writing illustrating coming together

moving apart in miles

a daily habit

how to explain the heart of this



now



I just copy and paste the whole thing

they can take it or leave it

i do find that much does not matter now

all that fiddly stuff

all that desiring things when all around us is ready



i wanted to suggest that they do not argue it is nothing : not death nor  life threats not fire nor flood

just driving

no one is hurt





back home he made the gate from branches



again



in the end none of this matters

not the stacking, tidying, worrying

small regrets



second thinking maybe it gives order

with contentment

the numbers you see

are regular



we hold on to  dressing according to our wounds

according to rules which are necessary for survival

until we survive

no longer

& let go

in the end none of this matters

not the stacking, tidying, worrying

small regrets

second thinking maybe it gives order

with contentment

the numbers you see

are regular

we hold on to  dressing according to our wounds

according to rules which are necessary for survival

until we survive

no longer

& let go

we imagine huge plastic hands

sleeves pulled down

funny



what if leaves were cornflakes

all crisp like frosties



he used two shovels



the wind will take the rest

away