we walked round blaenau yesterday, keeping

close to the wall. he ate bazooka bubble gum

&

yes

he swallows it.



at the market hall, i looked for the bible quote,

the drawing of a ****.



it has been painted over .



black.



sbm.

dream of making marks,
graphite, coal, pen
with ink.

see those marks
of making, chips
in slate, chopping
fire sticks, ages old.

step worn, door scratched.

bold marks on paper,
fingers bled into stone.

it has been done
all our lives, one way.

then another. words
in air, words shouting,
no one to hear.

i live on my own.

sbm.

it all became a thing yesterday
regarding these marks of yours

a bit of a collaboration
on twitter and we finished
on this

i hope you do not mind

“what sorta spots?

I think they are age spots,

I’ve heard them called liver spots too

ah those…. ..skin medals for all those years fought and survived

he tweeted



are also known as cemetery spots!

yeah!”

these things capture folks attention

we have a storm here
the cat had to go out
howled badly

she finds somewhere
for she always comes
in dry

as are those others
outside

still dark
i guess is the
remnants of
storminess

what

do you expect. making rules.

there never were any.  look

about.



he

was 17.

he was 22.

he was

ad infinitum.

he was

never

born. i am

still here.



not a hero. i cannot die

young now.



i have sent for the records.



no hesitation.

no martyr.



gender referral

rɪˈfəːr(ə)l/



sbm.

this is mary

she is part
of an ongoing
adventure
with john.

i will post
him another day.

look on my time
line, for a preveiw.

sbm.

knew he was there when the

ornaments vibrated.



looked down the garden,

saw him. we have waited

half a year, and now the forecast

is bad. he said.



i was filming john and mary

for a friend. it is his title.



this verse is named,

mary and john.



sbm.

irregular, you came, your best clothes shining.   never mind. the first tune hit the mind, patterns and mathematics.   the kindness that is.



he said. machine you see.   glass reflecting.            slowly it starts repeating.   the walls of differing colours.  we have the dvds.                                          on and on repeating on and on repeating on and on repeating.



back to the counting, how many have there been, how many are left still standing. an issue for some, yet we  amend the figures here and move on. lucky ones,            maths divides and decimates others.



1.2



repeating.



sbm.

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

smoothing the wrinkles i think

of another time. how reasonably

priced they are, such a usefull item,

to protect the bed.



those that sleep there can

rest in the knowledge that

all is well covered, there will be

no shame, no hardship.

remember the days of rolling

an

old one down the stairs, tying

with ineffective string to await

the council collection.



reorder the thing, much better

now to protect your assets.

i tuck in the corners, and remember

that this is monday.

sbm.

may we just be quiet now.

they have razed the garden,

demolished the trees, against their

better nature.

they are paid.

may we live here

quietly,

now?

sbm.

it may be best you do not watch the news

that you concentrate on fuel or ticks this

spring

mostly in the day i am fine

muddling about here day

ten

now

yesterday we ran out of knitting yarn

ordered more

mended the chair where he wore it

away

all those years back

drew my escape by boat with the

clockwork mouse while the neighbours

watched

i did not see watch andrew marr as expected

in the morning

i saw a dedicated programme late afternoon

when i was tiring

james

maybe you are best not watching the news

the skies are clear here again today

it is very quiet and the schools have

closed

hoping my fuel comes today

coal nuggets, dry logs and sticks

ordered remotely

the dark bird calls. may be starting an engine.

it has a sound about it.                        the word.

not at all biblical,

in that sense of

the word.

some people come unhappy. tired, out of sorts.

all sorts.

i had wanted to live on an island,

where they burned the       grass.

stubble.

it became quite private.

i like to hear those birds; they are coming closer.

sbm.

what to say? friday afternoon.     some say

another life, another possibility, an episode.



some say ampersand while some say and.

another thing means the hedge goes round,

and cut quite well can lead to misgivings &

other dynamics.



my surroundings are slightly unkempt.



this does not mean that i dislike those

neatly cut. today i was amazed. it was

a topiary thing.



i think.







sbm.

we talked to him at his gate,

asked him how he was.



he looked gently.



later he told me his

ears had been blasted regularly

at the quarry, so he is deaf.



now.



i told him where i was from ,



meanwhile the man at the factory

cleaned bins.



we used the scooter again.



sbm

it is written



listen to your inner sounds.                                                                           I do.



words affect us deeply.   voices  come and go.                                           while the worlds spins

with  people’s chaos and confusion.



yet.



above the noise of the day, above the voices, she heard you.   it is enough to make us cry.





yet.



if you confess there are voices there may be                                                           diagnosis.

prognosis.



defenceless

maledictus



they speak to us in latin,



people’s voices
besides your own.



sbm.



japan-3

makes me better, makes me worse.



it is all ideas that come in gradually.



best to do nothing, see what happens.



this is no race, no competition. this

is medical action for life.



sbm.


*
look at the little people.

arms held high. the medicine

is in the cabinet, they cannot

reach it.

so feeling sickly

we confused the

artificial

for real.



came in from the sun.



dazed in the parlour,

until the feeling passed.



sbm.

pass through on the way,
it is a pretty place,
if you think so.

in town
the car park was full,
people were shopping.

all felt happy if you think so.

later he was full of woe, which
is valid, if you think so.

sbm.

near the marches.

it is my brother’s birthday
soon, , stopped
in the village to shop.

it is a good store, post
office at the back, steaming
gently, brown paper, calculating.

the candles are dear, just one pack left,
perhaps a power cut come lately?

anadin, i tidied, whilst i waited gently.

outside she wondered at the ivy
outside to inside the place.

some one moved gently
behind her.

i could not sleep with all
that wondering.

the wandering through
the marches.

sbm.

while sleeping i forget your names

on waking

i remember

most of the books are gone,    to children

or to charity. there are   watches settled

in dust.



few of the stylish garments left,  kept for

best.



an installation.



there is a cabinet, of course, with two catapults,

one bought, one home made.



kept with all the papers.



david & goliath.



sbm.

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

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 like to hear throat singing
& spent a while with you tube
instruction

and had a go
by the window

no one heard me so is it true?

i always park the same at work
by the old pickup left for security
needing an mot

by the organised piles of things
i envy

while the pheasants strut about
not bothered about building salvage

we had a walk yesterday
down by the estuary
after the downpour
&
before the downpour

the woods were like an
other world
with songs of light and water pearls

with memories of riding out
a hundred years ago or more
when we were younger
and vaguely beautiful

she said all things thicken with time

memory is thought to be gone,
remnants remain, hiding.
working faster with out all

those words,
those images .

bare bones of the fact  replaced,
restarted, corrupted items place gently
in the box, tied.
turn with dust.

crosses.

sbm.

it was such a

pleasant afternoon.

for some time

i have written now,

words on paper,

words on screen.

to stop the dust

settling.



i shall stop soon,

and see what patterns

dust makes

in the wind

tiny wren.
blue hut.

tighnabruaich.

burned houses
cannot
be rebuilt.

scotland

walking the wood.

inverary.

jim crow.

pilot stone.

dunoon.

snow,

slips.

now is the time

to fix the lights, bar the window,

light the fire, have things steady.



did you know that everything is packed,

do you know the valley grows wild?

there is rain that drives, blinds and startles

small things.



this is a special day, this is

the middle.



it will start to come lighter now,

the tide is turned.

do you glue this, fix that,
or do you simply replace.

you must know by now,
we eat off mended plates,
and rise when  birds sing.

it may be a forgotten thing,
those cotton hankies, darning,
repairing old , hung together
with string.

yet, it may be you do the same,
standing tall, waiting.

for pins.

sbm.

once the jeweller, now me.

spend the night thinking.

been mending a necklace,
pearls through the night.
some months now, gradually
threading.

thread so thin, i cannot see.

it was done, when
some beads slipped off.

i shall start again.

sbm.

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

(written mid march)

you ask about the distancing
at present it is our choice

there may be quarantine if we are sick
and rumours of isolation for the vulnerable

maybe lock down

yesterday i went to my employment
yet for my own work i stay at home
no travelling by bus to the
secondary studio

i have what i need here
so will stay on my own

people stand apart
sit at a distance
that made us laugh

a corona is a halo around the sun
and other stars

corona is a chidlhood drink

now it is something else
that affects us all
has already changed our lives

i am fortunate that i have
much that is needed here

i feel for those that don’t

he titled his drawing
corona
and i shared it

i had done some of my own
without a thought

stay well



in splendid isolation
the window wide
birds still sing

while i wash my hands

one is down, string
broken.

remembering now
metal birds in comics,
one flew over low
yesterday.

i fail to describe
this place as it felt
saturday,

wet green, womb like.

it is a colder spring,
now with rain.

sbm.

fell in love in your sleep?



the man wanted to work.



elijah & the widow, £9.99 each.



sbm.

the bike man was nice
looked interested yet

was also sorting hire
bikes for five tourists

so it seems
distracted

thought mine was more of a winter job
so that is ok

said it looked old
i says he is correct
though I am older
and he said nothing about that

helped me to reverse back out

it was busy in town
for this town lately

it was noisy on the road
for these roads lately

and their were folk in the lanes
that have been empty

i tested the brakes which worked sharply
maybe loosened by the oilings

i resolve to continue the work

here

i think his name is michael
he had blue gloves and a thoughtful
air

I hid in the garden glad I go out early

thinned the hedge once more into

a hedgerow

ready for birds and flowers

next spring

don’t look at the sparks without a mask



he said

at the garage



food for thought



mouse

today rhe word is pike fish

the name shouted at school

with all the other difficulties



a small life



emotion brings mistrakes

there is a dead sheep in the lane.



pushed to one side away from

the passing.



traffic may have hit it, or it went

natural?



we walked on up near the copper

mine , a darker place yet

the forest came light.



sbm.

nothing blew down here

and it is tidied up now



this week i have done two things

despite the anxiety stuff



many other  things were comforting



the log pile is bigger



sbm.

having searched for the word,

head reels across the room.

the path was mud, the willow cut

back to stump.

the memory remains.

snowdrop’s  green

appears.

this is not bethlehem.

sbm.

having searched for the word,

head reels across the room.





the path was mud, the willow cut

back to stump.



the memory remains.



snowdrop’s  green

appears.



this is not bethlehem.

sbm.

it is a tableau.    oh!

made of moles. he

is a taxidermist

his partner works the pound shop

i hear.



all are around a manger



we have moley the ****** with molef,

angel moliel, the black winged one, little

baby molus

asleep in some hay



we three moles,  best thing ever



moleperds watching stuff at night



on e bay or view it in the shop



they call it a nativity. molivity.



oh!



tableau



. moles .



(so my timeline is  now advertising moles…..hahaha)

it says that most people are aware of the dangers of sunbathing

and that it is another adjective.



we had some of those yesterday.       plain words affect me deeply.



in the btahroom there is a book about womens’ health and beauty.

chapters on skin care from years ago before the war,   the second.



paragraphs on the dangers of being tanned, it says it looks common

like a working person  out of doors.                                  things change.



the book remains

in the bathroom.



sbm.

i assumed she is your mother, i watched you

both so kind to each other.



apparently.



i could not walk yesterday, was working.

the drive home that feeling came again,

after all those years.



the news was devastating. please be kind

to another.



sunday.



sbm.

wrap the house around you, then                            leave it.   out into the only world you know.   anxiety  comes with                                        the unfamiliar.                                                     they call down the chimney.

so i will go back.   look at the buildings. two museums hiding,.               look at the buildings,

this is a mill town.

i watched you both so kind to each other.              apparently

the drive home that feeling came again, after all those years.

some days are soothing, having made a new pattern.                       we have heavy work.all those years ago when i followed  instructions              never thought that i can change them.

so i got home and the wind has blown some of the leaves away….   surprised to find I was crying quietly.

yet   we still wander touching. personal items.

beware the glass, it rattles. beware the clever words.                           at the mill the cloth is heavy

sbm.

we were told to call her auntie

though no relation of mine



at four we trooped reluctantly

into her roon where she kept

her budgie



told to sit cross legged on the floor

to eat one small piece of cake with

tea



and never seconds



talk about feeling miserable



go on then or shall i tell you

all of it?