one man is upside down,
the other man helps him.

these are the better days,
no one has weapons.
sbm.

it is the little things that excite, even
in the height of summer, low look
for seeds, small flowers studded
in hedgerows, dry stone walls here.

our lane remains dusty, unmade, plans
delayed a while to update. developers have
bought the big house, a nice place for holidays
and rabbits.

the stone lion is gone, due to health
and saftey, wobbly.

there is a small pool, to look
in for small blessings , a reflection
on the day .

seeds
for the future.

sbm.

do you think you will notice them more now, my love?

it is mentioned that you may not be present next year,

that your age is wrong.

all is agreed, we plan for the future, diaries intact.

do you think you may ponder more, my love?

or simply play in the lane, laughter ringing

this autumn air.

my love.

some trees die.

sbm.

things come together with time and patience i find
then
sometimes they do not
and what then?

yes curses at what is and at what came before

a true sailor will **** lemons with grit
and a parrot upon the shoulder

i used to say soldjer and cannot spell it
properly

that has become a word here now for use
in the present time
with all the wars and conflicts

folks die

i should say killed

i imagine you a pirate, with stripey trousers
and a large black patch

on imagining things
sometimes scare myself silly

so the day begins here again and i find i
prefer cotton pillowcases so will discard
those others

they will make laundry bags for travelling

a good idea

that early evening,

slips into dusk.

the last blackbird singing.

that idle if not in

gainful employment.

there are thoughts

that are randomly baleful,

or so mediocre

need reviving.

sbm.

you said you wanted clarity

when it was there before you

black and white

& read

you mainly comment

like and share

when it is colour

blue

remember this



this is layered
with much underneath
hiding.

you may not like
that which may be
revealed

i cannot help you with your dilemna
not being an engineer nor very
techinically minded

here as you know we have a burning
system with matches or plug in
electricals and

when things go wrong i fetch an expert

though i find you tube very helpful for
advice and obsessions

ahknaten, ahknaten repeated

i hope some day for that dvd
so ahknaten is repeated

sorry for your unexpected expense
maybe this too is a sign?

i forget how i finished before all
was lost

maybe simply to say at present
the focus is
ahkenaten

and a few other things

remembering to say that i will
never win as am not part of
any race
so nor can i lose either




up already and plugged in

i hope all is well with your health
despite the word of tests

i worry
have been worrying for years
over folk & stuff
it does not help only
with planning

the albert dock is lovely
a shopping , cafe place
with a tate gallery

we have four i think
in total, two in london
one in st ives

i like that one
i lived there while little
and have friends
there

i hope the job is doing well
mine feels better that a couple
of months back

like tides

i hope you get to ride your bike
soon

it is good to be out & about
the brain & the soul

i go now to plan a bus trip
to the theatre
his car is broke so
public transport will
be fun


monday later
than usual
been got groceries
drank coffee
ate an eccles
cake

you were supposed to remind me.

i was out of the room & i remembered

by myself.



there are particular words

names and phrasing.



in town there is an rc church down the alley

with a statue of fatima.



i heard you coming looked up and saw the dark suit

black tie. you had studs on your heels for wear.



she had higher ones, rather large. it looked

difficult to walk.                           frayed feet.



then more came like beetles. i find no energy in

black.



matt black.



on the bus.

there came a cloud of dust ahead.



slowing  the sweeper lorry

cleaning

where the road is mended.



a sign warns us, there are no road

studs



here.



i fiddle with my earrings as we overtake.



turning into llanuwchllyn.

i wonder about the big house and admire

the vegetable gardens here.



llanuwchllyn. a village a community in gwynedd.

alongside a list of tasks
repair and defend, cut
small twigs with gusto
and imagination.

make conversation,
explore philospy at
the kitchen table
all gingham and pastry knives.

this was the order
of the day. thursday
the handy came, instead
of tuesday.

plans change.

sbm.

help thyself.



once turned this age, decided

i may ask for help, seems i did not need it,

the blokes were all at tea, so chose

the tree, carried it to the car

easily.



i always have one, fresh green, i like

the smell, the feel of it. in the house,



whatever is happening,

happy or sad,

i like the constant tree.



i never used to ask for help,

until this last birthday.



it is a new rule, maybe

i shall break it.



sbm.

did you spot the comma error
or were you busy yesterday with
work and snow?

our storm is passed, the house
stopped creaking, the curtains
still

a while

we are making changes, only
slight
yet each thing makes a difference

as you know

did my voice startle you as it does
me sometimes

the garden debris is cleared so

when it is warmer and now the
******* bags are empty i shall
continue
fiddling

i bought some yellow allium
yesterday

James

i like it when you talk of flowers
at the edge

jasmine bundled.



a living thing, tied.

yet i  tied the books, shredded cloth to rags, bled a little. arranged it all my way,the name will be the title, length an object. all else is waxed and tied as usual, making it       unusual. when i explained, she asked why will you do that? because of the chained libaries, burning books, the secrets you hide.



the light was different yesterday.

sbm.





photo challenge ~ atop

except when we are not, except
when we forget. or we are not
notified.

there are lists and diaries, notes
and reminders, days set aside for certain
tasks. it has to be done, when
there is only one
to do it.

yet, oh the shame, the horror
if we miss a trick, or lose the
page.

eventually we will know,
that none of it matters.

even though it all does.

now.

sbm.

( prompted by 52.60. )

while all things have changed.

rubbers are now a derivative of oil,
latex still drips from trees for certain usage.

we talked on god, death and whitsun,
on sunday. we banged the glass, together.

it broke.

there is an island near the holy head.

st michael.

sbm.

while all things have changed.

rubbers are now a derivative of oil,
latex still drips from trees for certain usage.

we talked on god, death and whitsun,
on sunday. we banged the glass, together.

it broke.

there is an island near the holy head.

st michael.

…hear the geese fly over. it is autumn…
they are overhead here, too.
the window is misted, sky pink
an ink wash day….

the few know how to detonate, the many don’t.

apostrophe t.



the few add bits and bobs for devastation, muliple

injuries and death. life

changing.



a few help the others, while the others suffer.



there was a picture of a bomb  in blaenau, next

to a drawing of a ****, and a passage from the bible.

hash tag.

deuteronomy.



sbm.

no conquistador, nor battle minds live around this block,

that i know . perhaps they hide secretly awaiting surprise

attacks.



some folk surprising sweet, inside stained with thought,

imagining.  i will not know them.



he said that i was useless at war, had to be the  metal medic.

then he bashed me bent. toy soldiers.



even that.



sbm.

daily post : conquer

model

wish i wrote dark, about deep insecurities,

a struggling childhood, i wish i wrote

like others with words of wonderfull

syllables,  bells ringing,

you know.



wish i wrote long tomes, to bore myself

rigid. to tap the hours away till bedtime,

early.



wonder if i shall write serious,

tell thee all  hard stories that

don't exist. i wonder if i shall stop,

when no one reads.



this is a time to wonder at the

dark hours leaving, waters receding,

black trees slowly turning. wintergreen.



sbm.

as he changed his words, the pictures changed.

a new meaning , a new endevour. i still think of him.

things move slowly steadily as snails in the garden,
yet, as i watched the fire, felt the heat, we started moving
toward america.

sbm

liking enamel tops for tables
liking enamel anything

i have a few here , cupboards and the like
around the place

also liking galvanised iron
enjoy putting the words in
search on ebay
to see what comes

up

the garden there are bins to
store compost and slate

chippings

your plans sound homely

i remember dogs chasing bikes
down green road, barking into

the distance

had a delivery yesterday and
he struggled with the weight
tell tale signs

later I stored it all
struggled with the weight
in two parts

it is clear this morning and
I fear I shall not get to lampeter

this year

it is a global pandemic

this year

i have been busy
one way and another

she says the swifts are leaving….

when the world runs cold,

water freezing, eyes held

from the words.



moments with the old story,

knowing it will be understood.



each day a moment to be

shared out here.



the poetry circle is closed.



now.



do not believe all you read.



sbm.

was a larger thing, not world news, happily,
not somethinhg to chew over.

amongst the colours, the gifts, the tiny cup,
cracked, collectable, among the people
at the friday club is friendship, a bigger
thing.

although many of us like smaller items,
we have grown to know that close friends
are a quite very big, important thing in a
life. small life.

sbm.

was a larger thing, not world news, happily,
not somethinhg to chew over.

amongst the colours, the gifts, the tiny cup,
cracked, collectable, among the people
at the friday club is friendship, a bigger
thing.

although many of us like smaller items,
we have grown to know that close friends
are a quite very big, important thing in a
life. small life.

sbm.

a quiet day, coffee in the square,

some light shopping, a nap.

the evening at the cinema.

it was a french film.

sbm.

we have been discussing his mother recently.

at a request from another.



‘who is my mother’. the bear whispered.



i do not know.



‘why?’



you came as an adult, a wise one.

you never said.



‘then i will never know?’



no, probably not, yet

i love you.



‘thank you’



whispered the bear, then went very quiet.



sbm.

some thing passed the window.

air hangs heavy here. word came.

nest intact despite the storms, despite

the news of every thing.

checked, she still sits, eyes shining, waiting

on the future.

four blue eggs.

there is no photograph

sbm.

#andrewbellon

the word came involutarily,
others were stuck, yet i knew
them to be beautiful, and
so they are.

powers and dominions,
virtues, re search them.

it was cool there,
we learned about protection,
quiet spaces.

there is an heirarchy, yet
some words remain faultless.

some need to be remembered.

angel.

sbm.

we met in aldi quite by chance, leaning slightly away

from the cold of the freezer cabinets.the pizza area.



i asked about bill,she said he was fine,and working.



i told her of the pain and she sympathised.



we talked about breathing and having babies.



it was quite a nice autumnal day.



sbm.

hear the news. say yes. make sure the full stop

is there, inserted carefully.                          #apt.



when she heard that i had been drilling fitfully,

she asked why but i could not explain really. so

i added the stop.



it seems that some like sticks, while others do

not.



there are a few of us, one of us is      leaving.



after a while i was left alone, no need to agree

or punctuate.



sbm.

portmeirion with friends

i sit up better to type
see it is raining softly
this morning

an inspiration
from sir william clough ellis

he wore yellow wool socks
with breeches

over here suspenders are what
ladies wore to hold up stockings

i assume yours are braces
to hold up trousers, to
despite gravity?

his imagined village
come real. my friend lives
nearby, a tenant

three of us with village
transport laughed
played all day

maybe as my walk is cancelled
i will write of it here
later

i feel i need to address each point

a must try harder
note coming into mind

good girls apparently were
awarded a red girdle back
in those days

a belt
not suspenders

Sonja

7.03
currant bun for breakfast
went shopping
yesterday

ann,  her name was ann.       my cousin.



slight, blond, flat chested.  almost hollow

as I wished to be.



I think it was a whimsy shade of blue

with glass buttons, the style of dress

she always wore.



voile.



she grew tall

and it came to me

.



mother said it did not suit me, I wore tailored.



I felt out of place  at parties.



mother gave it to the girl next door

as always:           I saw her wear it.



recently I bought a red version, hung it

on the wall.



there is



an eternal wish to be hollow.

sbm.

they lived in nottingham.

i remember their visits.



uncle arthur was a shoe

mender i was told. not a

cobbler.



he had a car, a shooting brake.



there were not many vehicles

then; we ran to the gate to see.



the family moved to australia, were active

in their church, the seventh day adventists.



i felt we should admire them.



ann came back one day on a needy visit.



she told my brother that uncle arthur was just a rogue,

a wide boy, a crook.



not a cobbler.



sbm.

Having trouble getting back.

Difficulty finding words, of the
simple type, to type.

Spell out the consequences,
of an easy life.

Is it criticism, or a general sensitivity,
which abounds, confounds the
smallest heart.

She says we should not handle bats.

They write better stuff than me

words i never have

or think in

They have been to a university

I have been there twice visiting

while two have died

there

They write in patterns

I watch with difficulty

&

admiration

Yet glad i feel better today

ah

you ask what would i do different

if i could change the past



i cannot change it yet look to the future

to have more care and education for all

folk to understand have empathy

be kind

& let us keep it simple



maybe the creatures have good ideas

& go to bed when dark ; don’t destroy

the earth

grandma came from malta, or was it

gibraltar, anyhow dad was very dark.



his hair remained so, with help and support.



i came from england to live here with you



#thebear.



also from another country.



i hear there is trouble in the village.



yes. i am scared they will shout

and say go home.



another country.



sbm.

he came from another country,

has another accent.

he spent quite a lot

of money, his card

worked.


we all wear socks.


sbm.]

quote *

we have such unimportant work
here, that needs not be done.

reality *

today, another cabinet installed,
part of the
wonderland event.

i have to let some things go
now, yet the cabinet remains.

memories.

dear both,

another day, another country.



visit the steininger gallery.

fax, this number, phone

the other.



two plus three, saying

see. no travellers.



see. the scenic railway.



is it all an equation,

geometry?



topical north of here,

another country.



sbm.

we walked the stone,

he kept the path tidy, closed a while,

is open now . as the sky opens

through willow arches, white calves

and butterflies.



he cuts the shrubs, hedges, and rakes the path tidy.



it is arthur’s stone.



sbm.

some can be serious, full of good intent.



i understand this one is labelled, yet



some i have met are not sure about all

this any more. a few like little things,

will be happy with pins.



did you know that angels are born with

dresses on?



oh , the powers and dominions.



sbm.

some can be serious, full of good intent.



i understand this one is labelled, yet



some i have met are not sure about all

this any more. a few like little things,

will be happy with pins.



did you know that angels are born with

dresses on?



oh , the powers and dominions.



sbm.

found in the graveyard,
the day of the ringing.

still warm, 316, plus a silver band.

taken gently to the garden
to observe, such a large beak.

friends came to see. report
the findings. this evening

the hawfinch is collected for tests
to see. the hawfinch cannot see,

the other fell
by my gate.

sbm.

. another jacket .
Posted on May 21, 2016

i bought the jacket on tuesday
wore it on wednesday to work.

a retail outlet we likes to look
smart and proper mostly. wore
boots as it was cooler. i thought

it was blue, the girl said purple.

we all see things different.

sbm.

they may like us to dance

twice

louder,  a chance

to

face up

to smile



we  have always danced

it is  a family



trait



look sideways

think lateral



forget the emerald

and dance



looking the other way



mainly

i find that writing here

to you on tug hill is an

impetous if that is the

appropriate word for

the written work and

maybe drawings will

come later





i will look at images

of hemlock with that

idea

in mind





we use or did use

fir cones to start

the fire



we went with mum

up meyrick park to

the woods to collect

them, to see the trains

that slowed down there

before the central station





one of my brothers fell

in a big ants nest, they were

made of pine needles





clever is ants





nice day yesterday at the

secondary studio a hub

of folk, had two visitors

for me and done six drawings

properly





ants is clever

and small

:: :: :: :: :: …

ways to infuse paper are free. perhaps the soaking

will work, after the hand drill &   sanding. ways to

make haste are    unecessary

sometimes, one achievement

a day is enough.



you bought your home, possibly.      the largest

amount spent. ,more than those shoes, they are

in dollars.



this is enough. some days.

are meant to be easy, to drill and reflect. look

back there is a comma in the wrong       place.

the world is infused with abbreveation

&.

punctuation.

sbm.



*the only company to repace your bristles

she seemed to know the end



some years ago  had painkillers

for her neck



prescribed again



how can that be

how will they mend my knee?



a general query yet one sees the possibilities

the logic applied







those without punctuation

may please



yet cannot define the beginning

on occasions we go further than we did before.



the patch of dark is from the trees, a marking

place. the field of bells beyond. we have not

walked there since her mother died. we can

hear the people talk up on the precipice, look

they move slowly.



two are wearing orange, i think that they cannot see me.

i often say we, as if there are two of me. we stood

in the darker place.



turned,



and walked home again.



sbm.

Thank you everyones x