yesterdays reply came on the hill
and emotion took over
i blamed the wind
when i wiped my eyes
dry

an old story remembered
that warm afternoon while all were playing

relaxing.

the hunted tried not to sleep

there

maybe you will still stay inside a while

within the boundary lines



four fields

my heart is in my chest

a particular siding

i feel it sometimes

when i am walking hard or eating chilli

so i avoid that last thing

mostly

pink i expect with tubes

mostly like in the pig’s hearts

mum used to buy from the butchers

for dinner

now i am vegetarian


i think that if i have a soul

it may be behind the heart

hiding

and maybe that is where my work

comes from

it seems odd that at times of rest and when all is quiet around

that i cannot hear it

nor the other workings

like lungs and veins and stomach

oh!


except the latter rumbles

no bus arrived the timetable lady was contacted and she explained the bus was due at 2.30 pm that my internet were wrong and no one was bothered what it said at bus stops

small thing  ragged who knows all of it

pieces torn away

or

is it a moth here in the dark?


triangles bring mystery

a new mathematics.


the rooms were swept yesterday

bones hidden

teeth implied.



yet the shape remains embedded

52.59.3.

two voices softly said


“yes”

they cannot
understand the numbers
nor find their families

*

the rose was gently pressed

between pages

we look for sand
there is a nice long beach and lovely views out to sea
the sea that is rising

maybe we need to check our numbers at the end, see if one or more are missing.          count them carefully, one side then the other.it is all a pattern, that keeps us safely,        moves us

onward.

they  do not know the darkness

how the light can fade into latin

& all things unreasonable

large rocks

fenced off yet

maybe i will

creep through

and touch

one quiet day

one stone

one finger touch

a ritual

some doubt climate change
despite the science
she says we shall have sunny spells

lift the cotton, look again.

cover the place with whiteness.

pink is pretty, white is clean.

they do not want to see it

today, a reminder of fragility.

stains the cup if left standing,
remember the hotel, 1964,
we used to scour them especially
round the handle, then the base.

i have the same,
usually, i felt like
a change today.

I read the judgement just now and while ironing the cotton handkies consider my confession.

Some time back now I was in residence at Plas Newydd in Llangollen and read the lady’s diaries with an apostrophe.

They wrote their daily menus and so my entry included some of the found ideas. Yes, folk really ate that….and fish with liver sauces….

Thankyou for your pleasant comments. I have such sweaters. My two most comfy are….

The grey shapeless mohair over 50 years old bought second hand and other Nordic thing both warm and come gender fluid.

With capitals today.

before the cut were shadows

which

needed to be removed.

move them into a place
of loose adjustment

random offerings

take note of the numbers,
especially those with 9, as
in 29.

the page is speckled,
left unread mostly these days,

"Is art a box that you climb into?”

“Well, yes, I guess it is. I never thought of it like that”

“Are you compartmentalizing?”

asked why i wanted it
i said that i did not know

he had a box in the room
to stand on
to see

we may all need one of those

the sea is quiet as we have never seen it

sun as hot as it gets

like summer

they gloried in it

we shall have more paintings


i can see the marks & lines
pushing through

despite the weather


to spite
the storms

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.

sea fret  in by six.      today the sky has lifted early.

he seemed surprised yesterday that i had completed the task


to ensure the proportions looked right for me


it is part of the job and if it is diaried must be done

it will pool, deep and dark,

still, inviting.

deep waters to sooth pain,

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.

corona

a slightly better sounding word
than covid

and more readily in predicted

no one
is looking, there is no one here. we are not afraid of
the night.

we spin.

there came a faint whistle.

they looked the other way..

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.

we now descend into darkness,
drawn into night,

mistakes crossed, all can see
the errors ,the blots,that soak
the skin, the stain within.

there have been a couple
of incidents but now she

is in disguise
with different
hair

quiet slow and uneventful

it left lasting impressions

a simple drawing out

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?

much of the time is spent with this or other things which pass the day nicely. linen  hangs  heavy, needles preserved. small holes ready.

it don’t work if not connected, if not tuned in, you would think the experts would know that.  we need to signal to another.

will watch the film on perception tomorrow alongside
another. red & white.  they say it will change my life.

meanwhile i **** boxes.

tapering off into dots repeated
the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

the island blessed

sandy tracks to wander
in memory

like birds we flew

black crow bird

pecks kitchen towel.

nest lining.

slate slides
mud slips
rain falls

seems higher this time
water expands to where i see
the edge

dark small cloud dropped rain.
still, the small birds sing

went to blaenau in the rain
you may google that
so best
add ffestiniog to the name

covered in wool against the cold.  bales taken down river , down to the harbour down

to the cob.

on boats .

you like birds?

as do i

neither of us employed
&  i am vaguely idle

furlough ended &  was
invited back part time

you see i said no

& despite protestations
seem to enjoy

for now a bus ride
and coffee

for it is raining a little

james


8.30

tell you it is a full and complicated story

that may upset.

i wrote it quickly using shape,colour,

metaphor and symbol.

slipped sideways.

while all remains the same, something is different.

life goes on
the mark remains

it was remarked that there is no hurry
that we have the rest of the winter

some of it did not work,
so added red , text, news
paper.

some of it did not work,
added bunting, torn
paper.

most of it works now,
memory plays a part,
when we look
to the mountain.