carefully we drew her out

all tidy with reason, wearing

us down

it was in the wrong shed

it may be the right postcode

but up the wrong track, the

one i talked about yesterday

putting words in my mouth
like sweet sultanas in chocolate


they come in twos

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.

fascinating
watching the stain spread,
red drops as blood.

salted.

drawing lines

in paper, cutting,

bleeding the lead

into showers,

and explosive marks.

the power house rears its head again,

pouring images down

like rain.

she calls it her bicyclette
with a parisian accent though

she lives mid wales

she sees the beauty all around
travels on her vehicle and takes
photographs

writes words of wonder
underneath
and cries

some people don’t like her
and gossip

as folks do

it is a shame

white bird

sits on dovey bridge

#apt

i guess you are out on the bike speeding about the tracks


whizzing along
and i may have found a photo and wonder if it is true


exercise came unusual friday

a walk with the cat in tow

not too far for fear
of losing her


then a repeat with seceteurs in the lane 


the log run came heavy unloading then stacking


required coffee after
and escapist drawing

your time will come

i will wait politely here until the day
and hope predicted don’t change
nothing
no more

tangled affair
too many people talking at once

it is a messy affair
paint smudges and runs

eventually all comes clear
one having the final say

predictions come and go

i dislike the cold
have wrote if that before

though not to you

i wrote that I fear slipping

breaking the soft words

of my life

*

there is news from the village

some is good and all there is tidy

while some comes shocking and hard

to bear

james

fighting the predictions

there is a house in the middle of the hill.



while those folk run up and down the road early

others in town wear black.

tidy beach

soft sand and honest stones
to be fortunate here

yet

some come to spoil things..

is a pretty thing especially today with the backdrop being darker

a thing so private, so intense .   . simple , complex. no one will see it .    

                      note your achievements to date.                     .hell no

goes where it leads me, a kind of conversation between me and the work, but drawing on what is in mind.

“A kind of diary?”

i

remember privet road down in winton

those days after the war

the second world war that is


though it feels like folk are at war

always somewhere

maybe we should look after things

and our people


anyway there is a privet plant in the corner of the garden

down by the water pumping station


they want it cut and i want it tidy

so we comprise as i love the smell

of the small white flower come annually


i shall rake the leaves and have made a sign ready

privet corner

it is not a hedge like my grandma had

just a privet plant

there is this little corner

tidy now

a niche

which needs a thing to make a point

for it


the storm came yesterday and tired from the work before

browsed the online and found many things

yet know that with time it will sort itself out


just as most places are tidy

the tree came down

and

next door’s shed blew about


it feels quieter this morning

the history is complex
involved with movement
and a state of mind

on all parts

yesterday was long and simple

was dark blue with a little red added
lasted two weeks and still prominent

'we were friends’  more than that with promises that faded into silence. i woke this morning the same….

the bear looked puzzled, sat back and said,

‘told you, no one will listen if we are quiet,

they have all lost interest’



yes.



‘do they only listen to loud folk , those that  shout

and remonstrate’



seems so.



‘do you mind’ said that bear sympathetically.



no.

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

look at the weathered walls

hear the song come random

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 ticked off when finished

 
the sham crow bird was rearranged for it was too high  to look good


later in the studio the work that had continued the same so long made a change
with a sigh of relief 


thankyou

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

remember those comics with stories on space and rockets
all dan dare and boy’s own


that we all read despite the gender


do you think they used protonmail alongside ray guns
for protection


here  we went up the hill to the little shop
for dandy and beano

sometimes the beezer

it was bigger


then occasionally she bought me sunshine stories

you thought we were broken
yet we watch you solidly, bravely like joan
with just one comma throughout

you thought we were broken
yet we watch you solidly, bravely like joan
with just one comma throughout

find pieces of jigsaw
everywhere here,
and they
don’t fit
together.

if i try
they make
the wrong picture

slate looms large,

thrown unbalanced,

waiting for water

to start the slide.

sometimes we say gosh or my goodness
a phrase used much in subtitled korean dramas

which what I like

they say it ain’t seemly to cuss
at this age and present gender

though I really like
******
as a little word

they say it is safer out of doors
that it does fade after a few days
though he thought it lived forever

blimey

the second visitor in a while

later the top were sawn off
tidy

ready to balance the collected
stone

james

being corrected
being predicted

details
and wonder if there is any hope

will they miss me there or
merely carry on regardless

did the breeze come
late last night, or did
some one slip into the room.

you were sleeping.

was there some one in the house
creeping
down the stairs. looking,
another time for thinking.

did the breeze come
late last night, or did
some one slip into the room.

you were sleeping.

was there some one in the house
creeping
down the stairs. looking,
another time for thinking.

you notice small things too
and record them slightly

those touches, nuances

do you see the way they
glance, look aside with

love and embarrassment

have you too overstepped
the mark, realised and later
apologised?

do you sometimes forget
the question mark then
wait endlessly for an answer?

i forgot my log in details
and wonder if there is any hope

will they miss me there or
merely carry on regardless

is that a small
white house
at the side of

the road?

told you, no one will listen if we are quiet,
they have all lost interest’

yes.

‘do they only listen to loud folk , those that  shout
and remonstrate’

seems so.

moving on i feel it was a flashback
to the girl who wished for quiet and
can remember  in detail

told you, no one will listen if we are quiet,

they have all lost interest’

yes.

‘do they only listen to loud folk , those that  shout

and remonstrate’

seems so.

told you, no one will listen if we are quiet,
they have all lost interest’

yes.

‘do they only listen to loud folk , those that  shout
and remonstrate’

seems so.

i like to observe the wood piles here

most are tidy and patternistic

while next door is more random

like chucking on the ground

storing in the wheelbarrow

the end result the same
warm homes this winter

i wrote about the making of quilts
back before
regarding the cost of blankets
so these were necessary items

stitched along the coast
to keep folk warm in winter

layers james
layers

nice to be excited
nice to ride the track

we have one here open from town down to the coast
quiet early, gets busy later though not bustling
as predicted here

a different creature then upon a bike
speedy with out no legs to stand just
two things buzzing around

no arms hanging
****** out and attached to
an iron bar

i never thought of it like that

james

is good they explained

i remember out riding the mountain
the leader shouting at the art

students making environmental pieces

near the route

the bear says hello

quietly

good and never grumbles at all

comes a wider space, with mistakes and misgivings.
nothing in this world is perfect. it is raining today.

watching the weather

discussing the news
for news came yesterday

local

slower morning here today. the radio plays.
dove grey overcast sky. heavy they say.
maybe rain?

yet i will rather say that all things are
on a spectrum
of colours & ideas

nothing is one colour only,      as decided
in invented rules.  for we are all different

there is time now to wipe the windows
like the others did

now there is furlough with days to spare

as a kid
i watched the water run


waiting

a hope for mint
chocolate
from the shop

those days we were left a while
with time to watch
the water run

they forecast it,
we do not listen any more,
just check the window.