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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.
we felt there were three issues

that day

to worry us.



nothing major like yours.



yet we hoped that things would sort in time.



seems they did

one way & another.



     you came, you shook & angered.
you left while things stayed the same

&

i hope for a higher gate.



2.             the sticks fell with help.

remain & look decorative.



3.              you did nothing  which usually works.



one way or another.



the grave yard grass looks beautiful while long

looks beautiful when cut.
in the garden,                  small doll.  



to be laid in flowers,           dripping  

with buttercups,    words and honey.



to be thin and brown,

let all those things depart,

that hurt you.



to sleep with birds, windows wide,

to know,that   all will come again



in time.



small doll.



i do not have to enter the competition.



sbm
on a hot day it comes through.

making hay. they blocked the path
for safety.

we have had the final episode,
things will change now. we may
have to alter the routine
for safety.

we are family.

through skin.

sbm.
i have not written much about advent, just two things.

yet i know it is here,      felt in   bones;         my soul. i

have no system now to believe  things,                     yet

the reminder comes without warning.                    each

year.

this year

to my own suprise, i find that i still can cry.                  it

is a long time passed. they say our work ,          our souls

are in our chest.

it is not just me

it is          family.

there is no photograph.

sbm.
yes



you know that buddha



head statue

in the garden from the pound shop @ one pound

i had  one & gave you one two



yes



how they fell apart in the cold…..



i put the bits in a box & today hammered them

to make gravel



for



a path in the garden
it is a layering.



tides come and go

covering uncovering



paint



things revealed



working



until things come right.



or not.



5. tide
i use you.

blind you, hash tag

nagasaki.



you had a clean shirt

ready for after the bomb fell.







was pushed.



sbm.
i drive home along a trail of buttercups

high with yellow

bordering

& filling  roundabouts, here abouts,



i think this looks neat and tidy with my mind.



the coucil cuts it down, leaving dead bits around,

then slowly it turns brown,



maybe  that is others’ version of tidy?



( thanks to Jo for the confirmation)

( urban slang ,

neat – expression that means something is wonderful, terrific, or cool.

tidy -to describe something, someone or some situation that is good or pleasing)
no time to do anything,
enjoy anything
if we are busy
winding the clock,
watching.

running
to stand still.

pat says.

thankyou

sbm.
come six twenty four, much
is done already. words are
discussed, will be till evening.

one was discarded, as not being used
these days, while some misspelt
took on other meanings. the work load

creates tension, while skin crawls
back to back.

at six twenty seven, the music
ends.

sbm.
i think i may like to travel to small places,

old and full of history. deep aged fabrics

stained with the words of time. to touch.
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
it is a tiny tiny thing

they say it is the enemy

and evil



i wonder



when you think how  animals are treated

enslaved, hunted, squashed

& i bet they are glad we are indoors a while



yet it continues as essential

we think we own them

and imprison them



inseminate, take their babies

**** them and eat them as

essential



my mother said

what goes round

comes round



i guess the abattoirs are still open

as essential



it is a tiny tiny thing

hoping to survive

like us

like the coral

like all things
there are tiny, tiny plants
in conwy high street, for sale.

alpines.

folding the washing, out
came a tiny tiny beetle,
placed on the dining table,
the way to its freedom.

gaze at tiny tiny things,
the world becomes another
space.

this is precious.

sbm.
now is the time to fix the lights,
close the windows, light the fire,
have things steady.
did you know that everything is packed,.

happy christmas

sbm
. today .
is after yesterday,
so today is now.
we meet at three,
removing boards
from the small lower room.

i imagine to the larger lower
room, which may be
full of  boxes.

a black piano there,
a waking world.

we three, wiser now,
after yesterday.

come see, welcome thee.

sbm.
today i am drawing boats,
using charcoal, integrity,

connected memory.

smudged.

cut lines in paper,watch shadows grow,
marks leap up, move down into grapite.

fixative , varnish
seal, create headaches.

glue the power house, paste and be
******.

these are the drawing days,

days of endless music, looped.



how much he loves her.

sbm.
told her that next I will do the stairs down 

when she asked what that meant

i explained it was how my mother spoke

her language 

to do meant to clean

thus

to do the stairs down

was to sweep then wash them

from top to bottom

she did the bedrooms on thursday

the lounge on monday

et cetera

she cleaned the home a lot

my mother

then in the afternoon if fine

would wash and change and go 

out often to town on the bus

if she was well and buy herself something

she was a size 12 at the top

14 lower down

if she was ill she went to bed early

now I may understand 

too late

so today I may do one of the rooms here 

reminiscing
the shop was closed. the window;

the fifties’ kitchen, red and cream,

seen

as on an antiques show.

book of laundry planted there,

as if they knew, I wanted it.

to read the rules, regulations,

soaps and sudsy flakes.

dream of singeing smells

of ironing,  gas filled machine,

the one plugged into the light,

back then, green road.

boiling the whites furiously,

steamed  the kitchen.

copper stick bleached

beyond.

I could dream an eternity,

to learn the mastery

of laundry.

sbm.
i sit with my heels up on the chair rail



she says my feet are nice



&



we talk about the sandal marks

on  otherwise brown toes



she wears flip flops

&

we reminisce over summer days
Here trikes are children’s 3 wheeled bikes. For me a sweet memory. I had one until it broke…

I do not know about lottery tickets though at work I am in the lottery club. Someone else deals with that.

Last year I won £8 so I bought plants.

The meadow grass here is now higher than the oxe eye daisies, and sorrel turns dark in the wayside. Birds like the seeds. I watch them,

Yesterday I sat among the yellow spike flowers and watched the butterflies and a red kite flew overhead.

I will stay mainly at home today as it is hot and there will be lots of folks about. I see I have a few brambles to cut and areas to clear. As the heat rises, I will be in the studio to paint of rain and other incidents.

I hope your new saddle proves comfortable.

Yes, I wonder about the world, whilst wondering at the world.

My friend  died, fell out of bed and died. I like her, a gentle soul, never real well.

Enjoy your day . It is hot and still. I hear the lorries on the road. Mansel Davies.
i see we are on a new page
numbered twenty
a differing colour

i see you wrote while i was
away

constantly

i thank thee

i learned much
probable forgot some

the hotel was old &
the other century traditional

with damp patches here and
there

service patchy
either excellent or *******

while vegetarians were served
last with white damp stuff

so the others lent me their
roast potatoes

yet i felt clean & comfortable
walked the longest pier to
see the brown sea to see

funland

we are on a new page
she needed the fare home,       i gave her change.



the school girl bent level, gave her the note, touched

her and left.



sometimes

we look after our own.

sbm.
it takes on a new meaning, horribly iconic.



my lidl carrier bag.

asked for a refund.



it did not fit.



touch it gently, it may not explode.

this time.  tentacles wave.       keep

clear or they may touch you. burn

you.



keep clear.



talk carefully, they may shout to blame

you.



tentacles.



sbm.
i slept a darker paint,

a place of nowhere,

no marks, no texture,

clarity.



waking, touch the surface.



sbm.
is the key. yet it has not been done .



maybe it has,  look back in history,

use the links below. that will be

cheating.



so we set a task indoors with help,

and all comes new and tidy. there



are trees down up the           road,

he told me.               we are family.

today, later,       i will write of rain,

ignoring the words i wrote  before.



sbm.
move, leave a trace, a gesture.

make a song about the things

that worry.

use your best voice to call

and care.

most things leave a mark, then

the next day we wash and clean.

even then something is missed.

the mark is made.

sbm.
the sight is disgusting

to the last degree



blind horse



liver sauce on fish



they turn the hay

eighteen

times
has big lumps, i seem to remember.

i have those and small stuff too.

mother had nutty slack, mixed

with water and other stuff to keep

it going.



can you still get that these days, i had best

google, anthracite was good i feel, and those



briquettes that i thought were for

richer folk.



steady fire last eve is still alight this morning.

the joy of a cosy life, one could say

it is a gift, even though i paid

for it.



sbm.
as children if we heard the train would kick up and run like hell through the woods to the fence to laugh and wave.

these days some folk are not trained; do not wave at all nor smile back.

here we have the festiniog railway, narrow guage chugging along the way through the woods to the sea.

sometimes they run the gravity train like they used to, but no public allowed. it looks a scary ride.

i met a friend in bala yesterday and the day was good to us. he climbed the stairs to the studio and surprised me.

we went to see hefn in the antique shop who told us memories of the village drowning for the reservoir up the road and the going of the railway line across the moor.

many lines were lost at that time, through cuts to services the government deemed useful.

the name Beeching still leaves us emotional even small boys who do not remember yet have learned of it.

small boys who excell in music and word patterning.

so i am proud of acheivments made, despite diffiulties.

your trains sound exciting, i should like to stand and inhale the noise and feel the excitement and terror in my chest.

drums do that too.

i best get on with the day. the bulb went in the safety light and i slept deeper for that.

as for the double decker. I too have written of that.
i am a fortunate, to live

without fear.

mostly.

with light shining.


sbm.
saw two foxes
running down
the field.

top deck T3
bus
this morning
clutter, the boards,
clatter the boards
in dance, balance.
make
quite a performance.
the best form of
recycling
here
at  the theatre .

we have plans
staged, a house
of cards, to weave
a dream.

steady hands, make light work.

sbm.
twelfth night day will be busy,

so it is packed up early.



it has not dropped this year,

it is growing

in a ***.



to go

back in the garden.



ready for next year.



hopefully.



sbm.
the start of things, the making of the welsh cape.                      tapestry. we have none here, we have a blanket,     washed and faded.               we started the research and found he lived near the thing he wanted.

we have spoken before. the looms stand idle,                                      some in store some with recognition. machines work less in cold, sheds                              and lack of encouragement.                                we worked the day with thread and needle,      only turning forward, cutting cotton backward.



it is the softest white ply.   woven correctly into squares.   neat.                                    colours merge, while  patterns change through            punctuation   marks.                                  those            looms lay quiet.

seems we have not been to all the mills, never will.               some are gone, yet we have seen them. seen things that are never there.                                                          lost our way, if there ever was one?



yes, you can get used to it. even that.                                       it is a frame of mind. it is not a problem.

we visit trefiw.

we heard the looms working at the top,                                                             so ran the stairs to watch.



we laughed at the odour, the noise and excitement.                                                 hung our arms loose.



again.



sbm.
said the risotto was as wallpaper paste

a punishment

a sad substance.



she asked what flavour, i said  wet grey.



toast was a trial so i had none.



eggs were ok with no mushrooms available with

an offer of haggis for one who would not eat meat.



vegetarian sausage to be requested the day before,

next day were still stored in the kitchen below,

half an hour waiting time

and the plates hid under the counter.



my incomprehension soared when told there

was no salad dressing made,

no visit to the co-op only a few doors down.



lettuce, tomato, cucumber with random onion bits

rudely chopped.



the gala diner was rejected for healthy snacks from the village

with hummus and other tasty stuff.



i was missed

yet found company on trip advisor.



i had washed my hair then noted the hairdriers were held to ransom down stairs

for ten pound

deposit



while bigger than some

yet

noted as small mainly ,the towels did not cover,



little frayed things

i wrote of them before.



blessings came when the window opened wide

to the sky outside, we slept upside down.



happy holiday even so.



trip advisor.



the other issue is sent direct.

it had to be said.
some things come better with movement
you can read me else where if you wish &

if you wish i can write in this thread sometimes

if you  don’t find me horrid which you
indicate you don’t

it was good on the forum a while reading
writing and using suggestions given

it is the personal comments on my nature
that i find hard to take when they don’t know

when i feel so much about all things

it is a warm quiet morning sleep dust crumbling
into tea cups with noises from next door

i shall have a nice day at home today

making amends making patterns or proses

i never fight no more
not for myself
i will fight for others

i just walk away and leave the trolling behind

that is enough on that
that is how it is now

so anyhow this cool guys buys socks at mill
and flashes his hand over the card machine to pay

so so cool. a smart ring.

he told me some folks have the smart thing implanted, he said
you know like they do to dogs.

i thought that dogs do not really need a smart card, yet
i knew what he meant.

like when the lady phoned in to asked it she may carry her
dog in the store
& i imagined an alsation, yet
i knew what she meant.

gentle, soft, music morning.
sun on the tree bark. wild buds
below.

6.49

somewhere in wales
a difficult day, i checked on him several times

yet he was mortified. hid under the covers all day.



the bear says he did not mean to cause a fuss, he

maybe a little different. he is not good in groups.



not all are neurotypical. so i says to him just now,

any better today?



he looks at me quietly.



sbm.
seems that you are trouble, is that correct?

yes.



it seems you need to let the birds sing

& not eat them?



i was hungry.



she came here angry & shaky at what you had done.

she doesn’t get that you are wild ones & do not know

her rulings on food.



does she eat animals though?



i expect so

&

her husband catches fish
i trusted him like i trusted you, implicitly.



then she doubted, never trust anyone, she said

she had been watcing reality

tv.



then insidiously doubt crept in, as water spread

this weather.



i may be pleased to say that she, maybe

proved wrong this time.



he rang me.



also pleased with the spellling.



sbm.
i trusted him like i trusted you, implicitly.

then she doubted, never trust anyone, she said

she had been watcing reality

tv.

then insidiously doubt crept in, as water spread

this weather.

i may be pleased to say that she, maybe

proved wrong this time.

you rang me.

also pleased with the spellling.



sbm.
maybe it is so, the creams they advertise
will work, blot out the lines,
that came with life, the fun and laughter.

i disagreed, yet he trusts all that he is told.
the wonder years.

we fed the ducks at bala.

sbm.
had not learned to be suspicious

until too late



google surprised me with

the truth of it all



now

most of it is removed

a local anesthetic



now

things are mostly flat



and i will remember



the love for pools of wax



wire in the wind
it seems that in moving the body we can free the mind, from one place to another. slightly out of focus.



time is moving forward.

that is the theory……



sbm.
she is in the post. they

phoned me from the red

cross shop in fort

william

yesterday.



they will not accept credit cards

by phone, nor hand written

cheques, probably soon

to be phased out

anyway.



so i sent cash in

the guise

of a christmas card.



while downloading her photo,

the manager phoned to tsay

that,

she is in the post.



it is a gift.



sbm.
nothing is as it seems.

there are enough disturbances in the world,

without another.

stay under glass.



sbm.
they say it is too cold there. cold as icebergs

none came the year the storm broke, breached
the shingle bank

decisions were made
i hear
to not repair
now there is salt marsh where samphire grows

some eat it
i don’t

i like turkey island
have you witnessed the change

in the whether?

heard the words of truth,

hilding your own opinion,

smiling.

have you laughed at the wind,

knowing the words are

unnattractive.

then slept dreaming

this state of unbeing.

i randomly hope,

you have not.

it is unsettling.



sbm.
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