One of those expensive shops
its name in large red alphabet
that wink into the night
its glass doors with handprints
'OPEN', they say
but the face behind the counter
wishes against.
See, I ran into big money
and I will spend it all on chocolate,
enough chocolate for a month.
Grabbing a clinking metal basket
I sprint to the section
of my recent interest
tossing fifty bars of this, twenty blocks of that
some milk white, most coffee black
wrapped in shiny colours and labels
nutted, chipped, tempered, moulded.
I bought a truckload
with a great sense of pride
and contentment with which
loudly, I sighed.
I went home, bathed, dressed
and set the mood right
imbibing first the sweet crinkling of the foil,
I took a generous bite
tongue and nerves at work
but quite early I open my eyes
to the heap of shiny acquisitions
to my first big expense that
stood dimly magnificent
but this time rather
quiety, I sighed.
"I don't like chocolate"

would want to be here alone,
wander the books and paintings,
use resources quiety, not guarded.

yet we came together nicely to share
experience, information, cheesecake
and pastries.

black book of carmarthen on diplay
from hengwrt, a
neighbouring house.

some books are tied,
some have no labels.

there was a draught
at the national library of wales.

sbm.

they shut her eyes, sewed them up
told her the truth was never love
wove dreams in her hair, such pretty little lies
that blossomed into flowers, under summer skies
taught her to walk in the straightest line
and that being obedient would make her fine
to never think, no thoughts of her own
the greatest failure would be being alone
so she steps quiety and quickly, into the night
walking and walking until it's light
free, so free, alive at last
trying to outrun the past
and be who she was meant to be
the girl that they never chose to see
the one with passion in her heart, fire in her soul
all the feelings that made her whole
and she laughs and laughs, her life misspent
and then cries for all it ever meant
she is alone and running, falling, afraid
but never looking back on the decision she made
she is quick and beautiful, never again to be tame
because she knows this, from where she came

Enigma,
I see your shadow,
It passes by
Quiety,
How to be
Enigma,
You just create
The image,
I'll bring the time,
It's an idea
We create,
Who are we
Though,
In the mess
That
Consumes,
This life,
We hide,
I could hold
This thought,
Here in my
Mind,
We could
Create this
Enigma,
Although
It's not
Reality,
It's just lost
In the middle
Somewhere,
Enigma,
I see your shadow

your birthday at the zoo.
while
we were at the national
library of wales, aberystwyth.

high ceilings, automatic doors.
trod carefully the red carpet,
saw the landscapes quiety.

film maker in residence.

webmakers in conference.

tape tied book, reminds
me, silent face a memory.

i will return to the
national library of wales,
aberystwyth.

no photos allowed.

sbm.

light catches, water clears,
we stood at the bridge
and looked, all of us.

men in suits came, stood
quiety, watched the water
clear.

some left after, went back
to there usual lives. the otter
stays in his place.

clear water.

sbm.

with reason, the thing was googled
yesterday,
now there is an understanding.
the code, the season of it all.

it fits, the picture is made, the
pieces may be in place.
left on the tray,
photographed for all to see,
labelled, quarrelled intensely.

maybe, quiety, put back,
in the box.

sbm.

Floating, in the middle of sea--
Relaxed. Empty. Full. Weightless. Silence.
Vibrations fill my body
echoing bouncing quiety,
Thoughts floating in dead water

Swings clacking in the wind,
Cars breezing by passing speed limits
Children's laughter in the backgrounds of life
Vintage songs playing out in
the park courtyard--

In the middle of the city
On a new york island strip,
Crowds of voices and black noise
Bike bells ringing and cars whistling

An open breeze in bright air
Sunlight glazing my skin soaking in life,
Birds flapping their wings
Rabbits running through fields of weeds

Fingertips floating the air
Sunflowers moving in the wind
Bee's buzzin around
Hums of nature in the howling trees

Static and chaos
Silence in black n white
My heart is pounding, No--
its leaping out of my very chest

Could this be a dream?
My imagination must have the best of me
Creating a world of my own,
A limbo of which is my sole home..

I call this Somewhere In Between.
  - M.

yes james it is a small white stone
colour so pure you can feel it

now the cotton creeps in the foreground

how do you know
about the prices here?

i find most things reasonable
yet then i don’t want much

like we shop in primarks for underthings
and overstuff

food comes in small prices
what i eat does anyhow

moving on
as you are now with the electrics

while mine are acting up in the outbuilding
and is all under discussion and research
out in the lane

he strimmed it severely then talked
to me kindly until she came out
with a broken zip
so they went in for tea

i killed the hedge i had hated
for 27 years then came quiety
inside smiling

i clear the debris today
james

they say it will rain
she said it is like glitter floating in the air

that it will die out

do you believe all the things you hear james
are you happy out there cycling along

i hope so
i like to think of it so

my times are up side over now james
while others sleep
do other things

i made another ladder
everyday i make a ladder
now

green by the window