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met a friend for lunch and tea?

done the wrapping, sticking
and packing, most work has gone,
some has been hung, so i am left
with paper and bits below, new work
coming in.

the bottles are up for sale, and
am drawing an erasure with all
my might.

have you seen my writing site?

yes, we had kippers on toast, tasty.
1d · 29
.labour day.
autumn apples, gone from
the tree, a few this year.

coxes then , singly in the florist,
basketed among the flowers.

lunch at 20p, rattle the pips
to make sure. slice neatly white,while
watching the wind strip the leaves.

this is an autumn apple. break time
in the staff room. only the pips are left.
to grow again.
there have been and are more,
waiting. we wish for less, yet
they will come all our lives.

so many together, not such
a good idea. asked and recieved.

the festival continued, we miss
the procession, kept on time.

the circle turns.



caladrius
3d · 27
.2610 conwy.
through blaenau, orange now,
bracken competing with slate,
winning a while, as leaves
fall.

to conwy, the road
rising above the flow,
one tree remembered.

two calves run down
to the others. on arrival

admire the quality of
bunting hung here, cotton,
with spots. there is a festival.

we had a meeting.
nine circles.
300.

he says vehicle
where others say car,
he avoids the
paparazzi, he
likes the same
twigs.

titanic.
5d · 65
.2510 oswestry.
used to be in wales, now all shropshire,
borders. a small town with plenty to do.

qubed gallery quoted poetry, refinely
drawn. one man left standing, my face
collected.

salt in abundance, ready for the pigs
head, he really was making brawn,
ear stuck from the saucepan, with
plans for brains on toast for tea.

i lost earth and heaven,
read greengage summer instead.

rummer godden.
it is a simple thing,
to think sideways,
practice makes a hindrance
when others think straight.

we gets in all sorts of
troubles,
strange situations.

should we explain,
to make it right?
can just makes it worse,
so we measure things,
and carry on.

right sided?
7d · 109
.2310 wordpress.
in some houses no one,
presses, steams and irons,
clothes, the inevitable linen,
no more.

busy days we are pressing words,
hanging out for all to see,
to disagree.

a private place, a box, there
are some you will never see.

secrets.
Jul 10 · 79
.cwmorthin.
they have gone now, we rise, heavy.
air comes clean and you accompany me.
it is a pretty place, with rain we become wet…
Jul 9 · 24
#thekey
reluctantly he handed over the key,
sensibly you  took it.


shrapnel, forged from memory.

so face me, hands in pockets,,

say it is not so,
when you know that it is.
Jul 8 · 94
#fourlines
when was I anything,
when was I brave.

we are all mostly frightened,

all much the same.
Jul 7 · 36
#wordpress
tells me how many,

not that i care. i just



chats on regardless.



i just likes doing the work,

and writing the things

i think.



the visitor thought

my house must be like my brain.



i wonders what she means.
Jul 6 · 35
#tv
#tv
so i did what he says,

whilst running up

and down the stairs.



source to av,

only there aint no av,

not

on that one anyhow.



press my scart lead,

that is probably it.



press the sky button,

the sky does not respond.



we still has televison snow.



he will come out on friday.
Jul 5 · 48
#iceandmud
we sit quietly here, fretting

over nothing in particular.



some bemoan their lot,

others get on with it willingly.



stop and have a cup of tea.



while others walk in #ice and mud,

while others #drown,

while others #starve.



without a #cup of tea.
Jul 4 · 30
#spring
spring is on its way,

the ants are in the kitchen.



they will leave by easter

whenever that is. he said

it should be on the same day



each year; he is learned,

pronounced as two bits.



it is nice to see them back

this year. see the snowdrops

too.
Jul 3 · 52
#censored
so we placed the work on censorship.



little boats,  welsh not, #bandaged

books and what nots.



they had been there

some time, yet were not noticed

i guess.



it may have been nose bleed that done

it. she censored it all, shoved in

a drawer, even the refugees

crossing.



i go to the ship now, and

i hear she threw the jazz band out



too.
Jul 2 · 96
.plans change.
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 *****.
Jul 1 · 35
#thelane
shelter here under this door?



no i do not mind the rain,

though it is all mud over there,

and may slide.





where do you walk?



to the end, and back again.



thank you.
Jun 30 · 88
.will now be thurdays.
there is nothing quite like changing stuff,

you see he always came on tuesday, but then

we started writing that day, so he will come

on thursday each month.

to help me.

it was a mucky day, cold with driving rain, he did

what he could until we both hid in the kitchen,

eating cake, and mending plates.
Jun 29 · 73
.the cabinet.
there are unusual things here.



not really, it is just how you

see them, i think you have

nice things. antiquities, yet



you are used to seeing those

daily.



i like the way you finger them,

play, they will turn up another

day.



you see.



the lead soldiers are still standing,

lined up on the back of the

monopoly board.



the front small bedroom.
Jun 28 · 67
ðɛːˈbʌɪ
the importance of a partner/no partner.



answer me ?



when all around is singing,

why silence this?



the importance of anything

is relative, do not place

a value on something

that is not important.



ðɛːˈbʌɪ/ unimportant.



broaden the world.
Jun 27 · 78
.eraser.
a need to wipe it away.



a tear, a memory pinned,



until we repeat the instruction

to erase, replace, white wash.





the window smeared, is clean

again. with soap and sanctity



washed, aired, ready



for another day.
Jun 26 · 134
.the typewriter.
we lerned how to play,
one letter at a time or
they gets stuck.

badly.
Jun 25 · 112
.the burning.
he said the flames

came over the trees.



behind the buildings.

bombed the buildings.



so do not wonder why

i don’t play soldiers,

lay them down to die.



he says that i will not battle,

i am no good at it.

too peaceful. i can play

hospitals.
Jun 24 · 105
.stairs.
winding we hurry

to reach the top

climbing to a



safe place with hope



often the stars  are reflected below
Jun 23 · 87
.mail art.
we are artists without borders, we give and share,

not expecting anything.



in return we are part of it all, and pleasantly

accepted without judgement.



the journey is endless to join as desired.



i am a curator, a book about death in wales,

loosely bound, conceived by another



in memory.



ray johnson.



fluxus.
Jun 22 · 362
. in my garden.
wish i wrote like you guys, wish it were more direct.



it has been noted as abstract, yet i cannot see that.



he wanted a garden, this one. we  looked

at other houses, he wanted this one.



with

a garden as seed for the future.



when he died i let it grow and hid here. now

i tidy , grow seeds for the future.
it is said i write abstract, in time to save

your feelings. you asked me to explain,

i did so lightly. the other said no one else

dare ask.



i tell you it is a full and complicated story

that may upset.





i wrote it quickly using shape,colour,

metaphor and symbol.



was loathe to read it for i may cry.

you wish a pretty picture yet i cannot

make it.



i thank you for asking, where others

do not read.



the writing circled
Jun 20 · 92
.a beautiful home.
too much chatter to think

on the books i read.



remember the mix and match

of a scattered life.



i too remember wonderland.



not all is as it seems in hay

on wye.



he lost his wife.

earth and heaven.
Jun 19 · 155
.in time.
in time

i will leave you six

items,



like he said.



five you say you want,

one to mend some things.



the bear, the other bear,

the others plus

a pin.



encapsulated.
Jun 18 · 111
.monday night.
rain came, seeds will grow.



watered places i cannot reach,

**** half full.



noisy day, farmer making hay,

lambs  moved from  mothers.



they say the sun will come

later to dry.
Jun 17 · 103
.knitting.
had the words ready.

a twist of logic.



you explained it all

to me. then the radio

stopped.



you wind the thread backward,

while some move forward.



i saw your picture again.



it means nothing.
Jun 16 · 250
.stones.
early morning i got bit

clearing up your mess .



i had thought that i could not manage,

it was  just all  in my head.



some one came and told me

that i could do it myself.



so i have and cleared up  your mess.
Jun 15 · 86
.a small kiss.
small soft kiss on the cheek these days,

with a hug possibly. unless of course its

you.



not like the old days. i think that we did

not hug , kiss and remonstrate.

used the surname, all was proper.



even cabbage had titles.



then the kissing came, warm, gentle

kind.



yet i hardly know you, how nice.







xist
Jun 14 · 111
.sadly.
do you wish to stay in bed today?

yes

has it all been a bit much?

yes

will it be letting the side down?

yes i guess so. i will decide in a minute.
Jun 13 · 295
.teeth and dent de lion.
you can pull them out one by one,

they will not grow again.



leaves a gap.



you can pull them out one by one

they will grow back and

fill the gap.
Jun 12 · 101
.dead.
it comes as no suprise.

often ill they die.



it is the way.

it is not sad.



we are sensed

with  loss.



that includes you.

no more.
Jun 11 · 103
.distant sound.
think i heard a night jar

up the valley here.

it was a quiet night except

for that.

we have the window open now.
Jun 10 · 88
.bread and butter.
four slices.



she brought him four slices, butter

on white, fairly thick. he piled it high

with breakfast ingredients, and chips.



an hefty lad, avec  workmates.



she asked if i will like toast or bread

and butter.



the latter and let it be white.



the coffee was milky.
Jun 9 · 174
.elder.
yes.



i am sixty years older than you, think on that.



my mother’s name was madge, her mother

magdeleine, your grand grand parents.



it is said that i have learned more than you,

yet today   you come  wiser than i.



boy.
Jun 8 · 93
.lesser gods.
do you not know the name, some do

and believe in her. the rod of jesse.



some say it is a pillar of salt

yet the news says most people

don’t.
Jun 7 · 238
.b road.
more down the middle

now, not touching the sides

so much.



limbs hang looser, hardly tied.



it is a soothing thing apart from string,

to walk the higher road.



this is not a metaphor.

it leads to llanfachreth.
Jun 6 · 116
.charcoal.
charcoal.

yes

a soft substance

easily crushed,

manipulated.

must ensure,

i am not.
Jun 5 · 99
. daily painting .
painted my face again

like i powdered yours,

coty alabaster.



made you white

and sickly.



sweety child.



i took the face again,

painted it white

and full

with the ghost of a tear.

a drop that welled

red

and fell.
Jun 4 · 124
.very tall, russian.
so the bear has become a companion.



of sorts in times of stress

and needlessness.



i call him darling sometimes,

not often.



some days he stays in bed ,

not often.



some people are witnesses, study

the evidence.



i prefer the bear.
Jun 3 · 209
#russian
came from another country, you know,

quite some time ago. i lived in the jungle’



yes.



‘i have been here so long, i feel i belong’



yes.



‘ they call me an immigrant’

said the bear, sadly.
Jun 2 · 167
#birds
so the sky is pink, the window is open.



listen to the crow call, or is it a rook?



we have the memo.



‘it is cosy here this morning’, crooned the bear.
Jun 1 · 93
#jungle
‘so i looked for images on clearing the jungle’ , said the bear

sadly.



‘it is where we live, then they mow it down, with

no regard, just bulldozers’



yes.



‘so where will i live now?’



i watched him curl up.
May 31 · 99
honest work
i was gone all day, and my feet hurt.

i folded tee shirts, was confused with socks,

tried to be good, got it all wrong.



what did you do, bear.



‘i stayed here all day, i don’t want the money’
May 30 · 141
#remembrance
he was still laying down and mumbling.



‘why have you not shared that one

about belief ?’



i think i forgot.



‘did anyone read it?’



i don’t know.



the bear slipped back to sleep

holding the rags.
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