well hello

you see I did write back to you

in

a different format

more like a letter now

it has beautiful spots james

while i like any pattern that includes spots
and any embellishment that is bows you
know

yet
i don’t know why
only as i say that
i think i may do

i guess that is a story for another morning
james

the air moves

on my face.

i turn

look past the curtain

the sounds
softer.
once the day is dawn, the door is open, face the sky, all
comes well some days.

Awake a while I have now my coffee  and bun.

Have plans for the day yet it depends on supplies and temperature. 

No news since we spoke.  The pod cast was about the titanic yet I drifted off…..

The light is on over in the village and I wonder who it may be.

Birds sing.

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

the mothth as collage.
a quiet ththing.

the mountains here

a home, a refuge plain

and simple things, the ordinary

become as sacred in our life

there is no reaching the summit here
the story changed

an avalanche of news
and wet weather

dampened the spirit
so we nipped out between the storms

to post the letters
and that was all

there is no reaching the summit here
the story changed

an avalanche of news
and wet weather

dampened the spirit
so we nipped out between the storms

to post the letters
and that was all

we were there early

and so were the others

with snacks and extreme tiredness

from shopping,

unused to,

we live in the country.

dropped crumbs

impossible not to

snacks all crunchy for mouth satisfaction.

after we left, when all went quiet, the mouse came

using the light spots,
neglecting the dark,
except the margins.

so we go
dear child moving
forward.

reading the line, moved the line
into a place of hedges, rural
contemplation.

not understanding the word,
we google and discuss.

so many connections, so
much came from nothing,
god particle, if god
is the word to use.

reading the line, we move
into a place of hedges, where
the wild things grow.

there the wild things grow.

was at the national library of wales,

you know, that big building in aberystwyth,

just after bow street. they have a red carpet on the stairs,

men standing at the base, to guard, to help you.

tie the books in cases, stare at the black book  again.

mrs ciano is labelled, and no one looks at her.

there is a castle here, though no one thinks so.



notes – Bob looked at mrs ciano

maybe
it was dark blue with a little red added.


lasted two weeks and still prominent.
much has happened since

the roads here are winding, the leaves are changing.
best not to bang the teapot down on serving, best
to tell the truth.

please note that if this week
i go missing it is nothing personal

yet personal and nothing at all to
worry over

i cannot remember the barber talking
if he did i imagine it directed at her

if he did I would not have listened
being
in a state of shock at the shortness
of it

at the bits clawing my neck
scissor snap

i guess it was all of us
the price multiplied

my goodness it

would have been cheaper to let it grow

:: museum ::
i found,
perfumed , decked with
statues and sympathetic leaflets
to no avail.

i saw the people here.

studio, still, paintings.

i saw the artist there.

the museum, past
locked behind glass,
and computerised screens,
swimming in light.

i saw the man here.

the man too tall,
so they bended him wholly
to fit,
as they did the ladies waist,
to suit the time, and hat.

i saw my friends there.

the bus, crowded chatter,
a quiet place,
to watch as film

much time to think,

i saw myself there

the window steamed
reflected way, the day.

who do i see there,
today

they screamed that there was an accident waiting to happen on the stairs

sometimes takes a thing of note to come dancing

yet yesterday there was none of that though highly praised for labelling

plants

that shall be saved

he told me a gentleman uses my bench at 6.30 pm most days

so I ask how he knows that he is so

is it the leather gloves that denote the status

disappointed to hear the word was merely to denote gender

I have therefore repaired the seat somewhat and left a gift

thereon

i appreciate your excitement
and remember my first adult bike
in a nice shade of blue
from the shop by peter’s hill

i guess I rode it home..

then out and through the lanes
up over the hills finding freedom
a while

until the stuff crowded back

sensibly it was used to go to work
all responsible and occasionally miserable

though whizzing along those feelings fled

you know

i still have that bike in store
and I think it cost seventeen

pounds

my quiet friends felt shaky
weary while getting back to
somethings

my goodness
such a thing to see while out
and about

such a high up place to be

there is a need to say the the house is on fire again

metaphorically

and that theirs is on fire more

metaphorically

while it seems that no one is listening nor uploading stuff to social media

here

nor there

i did not know the rules
nor investigated

i needed the stuff gone so burned it
early morning. dead early.

no one complained and I smelled
smokey after

kenny remarked that it was the best way
in the circumstances

and I was impressed by the word
with all those bits to say over

a friend in town was reported
and the services called at night
to investigate the smouldering heap

she made them coffee

now the recycling place is back open
i dispose of it there nicely and politely

adhering to all the rules of numbers and distance

i go today despite the rain

i have an appointment between 9am and 10 am

the controller checks my registration
then lets me in
with instruction

next door’s truck is back

the suspension repaired
it now has a puncture.

some of us manage
to be vulnerable as naked
in private

some need holding up
in sight from my window

dark/ we painted it
all vaguely national
trust

the year the storm broke, breached

the shingle bank.

decisions were made

i hear

to not repair

feels necessary to hold onto memories
and to repeat myself

it is a new twist

on traditional workwear


at ten times the cost

or more

it is fashion


talk of the year as if it

a living thing with feelings


did you know that wishing

doesn’t change stuff possibly


he said it did in that film yesterday

netflix

oil pond mirrors the darkness the november

day                  sun draws white against the grey

this       leaf  lays on earth

there is no god

not hungry nor otherwise



you look at me straight and ask the past

and briefly I say & say there is no god



you did not smile nor shout you are the deadest thing

dead down .              no smiling  despite birds gone  by



on greasy wings                       .i remember your look

your face

drawn grey as mourning doves

that remind

for me there is no god

the bird landed gently

hardly there

yes, sundays seem quiet . were like that when i was a kid. enjoy that yet i know some find it arduous.

like to hear you will have company in the garden again other than the cats.

when initially awake it was golden with sun yet now the softest cloud has covered.

Asda van is due today and i go to buy petrol early. except is diesel.

no more news really. except I saw a stoat thingy yesterday.

the ******* the bus had some, in blue though,

and i admired them while thinking that they will be fine for a more senior person.

then before the film that monday I visited the market, bought some much the same in red.

found some suitable socks and wore them to town

all comfy  and overwhelming in their newness.

yet I guess no one noticed, only me.

he called early with the news

later ian came and we felled

the last of the saplings

kenny helped pulled the last one

away from the telephone line

that connects to his house

watching the weather
discussing the news


for news came yesterday


local

do we describe what we see or maybe
tell the tale inside

round the corner on the wall
are the bullet holes

thankyou and say it is only temporary

balanced or tied with string

though overnight decided to use the glue gun

are having a new bus shelter on the bangor route hurrah….with digital.


after sheltering under a twig nigh on 30 years will now be dry.


went to aberystwyth yesterday and there is no shelter that way

no twig and all the bus windows were open for the covid

**

today is the asda van

substitutes steak type pies with chicken type…..

then subs chicken type pies with steak type

vegan…



bread instead of bread

Main Entry: niche
Part of Speech: noun
Definition: place all one’s own

:: niche ::

i gave the words away.

wrote them,

published them

shredded and pickled them,

and gave them away.

left in a niche.

yet, still they rattle,

and will always

be a part of me.

my words

nige.

you showed me your first car with the glove compartment

i
sat and thought about my situation

felt I could live in a car

decades later
learned that you did

.oh.

in the dark

in the night

love the line
my little room that overlooks
the river

such an image in my mind

my grans are dead
seemed to have three and i don’t know really

there was gran who baked the beans that
i spoke of yesterday though i never ate none

then there was granny pussycat who i never
knew really

and granny wigs

grandads were all gone and missing

except mr palmer who was no relation

and had a good workshop
tidy and interesting and

that is a fact

proper grandad was a green grocer
i was told with a horse and
cart which fell on him

the delivery horses ate the flowers in gran’s
front garden

night scented stocks she said

how our lives have changed recently over

the last six months. we discussed it

over coffee at a distance

he said mine more than his

yet I disagreed

so we talked about our freezers

and the organisation there

while I seem fascinated with the sound of ice flows cracking although of course

this is the melting another cause for concern

the day went well with huge cheering from me when yesterday afternoon the old black bike is up and running

not my achievement only as I had help from a friend

who works nights.

do you believe in omens?

james

pink sky
slight dampness
hanging

sometimes you know
i have no clue as to what
is occurring
here
or over there


find it challenging
and disappear

explicit blunderings, darkness descends

with out the need for words. pray for

forgiveness if you are so inclined.

refer to the notion that there is no looking back
as in the circle

the circular form
then sometimes no title

it all does not matter
though it became like a book to dip into
here and there

things will do for now
until it changes again

slightly

have asked for gloves this year
the gardening kind only

i have gloves from last year and
some before that even

leather , wool and finger less

i also have her fish slice she
bought those years ago possibly
in Woolworths from the counter
by the back door where she left

her bike

the paint is chipped on the handle
1940s green

some would replace
while it remains

functional will keep it
use it though we don’t

eat fish no more

it came on early morning and lasted all day

this morning I wake to find it had gone

she asked about side effects and though
after reading the instructions felt there

were none
noted before

when suddenly came the surge of energy