Parson Thruses Dairy
By Parson Thru
A regression to the activities of earlier times. A journal of private thoughts and dairy confessions. Safely locked in my darkest place (or one of them).
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- 4188 reads
The word is out on the street
Summer approaches
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- 593 reads
10 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #10
Blah!
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- 2 comments
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- 1053 reads
11 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #11
It's just a journal entry.
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- 4 comments
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- 1482 reads
12 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #12
Well, that's Guido Fawkes and The Glorious Dead done. Christmas trees next.
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- 4 comments
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- 1259 reads
13 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #13
Bimbling along in the clapped-out electric milk-float that is life, with its one functioning side-light.
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- 7 comments
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- 1930 reads
14 Nqovember 2012 - Dear Dairy #14
Thoughts in a traffic jam.
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- 539 reads
15 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #15
Dear dairy,
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- 5 comments
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- 1469 reads
16 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 16
Dear dairy, letter on way to Danny today. For anyone who picks up this journal and doesn't know who Danny is, he is someone I send letters to.
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- 2 comments
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- 1037 reads
17 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #17
More fun in the parlour.
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- 2 comments
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- 911 reads
18 January 2013 - Bearing down
It's turned to snow but, well, why let the truth get in the way of a good story. As someone once said to me.
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- 1 comment
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- 889 reads
18 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #18
Morning, dairy.
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- 5 comments
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- 1650 reads
19 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #19
Dear dairy, more shite than you can shake a stick at, young man.
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- 3 comments
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- 1146 reads
2 Nov 2012 - Dear Dairy # 1
Dear dairy, so glad I took my legs for a run yesterday. It seems to have brought us closer together.
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- 4 comments
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- 1321 reads
20 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #20
Paradise gathers dust on a shelf in Baker Street.
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- 4 comments
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- 1185 reads
21 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #21
Dear dairy, Happy 21st! Award yourself a free gold-top and a third of a pint of orange juice. Gold-top puts hairs on your chest and lines your arteries to keep the heat in during cold snaps.
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- 4 comments
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- 1376 reads
22 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #22
Dear dairy,
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- 1 comment
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- 667 reads
22 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #22a
Epilogue The calm after the storm.
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- 10 comments
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- 2469 reads
23 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #23
Happiness is a crisp, cold morning and your hair full of spiders.
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- 2 comments
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- 934 reads
24 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #24
Dear dairy, good morning. Excellent morning. It's Saturday. Sabado - muy bien. Thoughts on meritocracy.
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- 525 reads
24 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #24 and a bit
Yet another ridiculous opinion.
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- 8 comments
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- 2204 reads
25 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #25
Why do we look for more When we have all the comfort we need?
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- 8 comments
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- 2025 reads
26 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #26
Today a man with a clipboard came knocking on all the office doors to check that they open.
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- 2 comments
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- 945 reads
27 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #27
Dear dairy,
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- 2 comments
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- 996 reads
3 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 3
Woke up. Hallelujah! To the sound of pouring rain. Fucker! Please, Lord, don't make me have to write another awful poem about rain.
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- 4 comments
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- 1649 reads
4 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 4
Dear dairy, one extra pint today, then none till Tuesday. Key's under the plant pot. Bob's on earlies. ;-)
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- 3 comments
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- 1425 reads
6 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 5
This is not a one-liner.
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- 4 comments
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- 1200 reads
7 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 6
This is.
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- 4 comments
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- 1246 reads
8 December 2012 - Dear Dairy, exact position unknown
Just remembered that it's 32 years today since Lennon was shot. My friend Dunc thinks that his lifestyle would have caught up with him by now had he not encountered his assassin.
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- 4 comments
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- 1217 reads
8 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 7
Lights in the sky
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- 6 comments
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- 1551 reads
9 Dec 2012 - La Mer / Beyond the Sea
A song with a spell of its own.
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- 536 reads
9 Dec 2012 - Other thoughts
There seems to be a clear-out of a generation going on this year, as the notables are swept from middle nostalgia to recent history. The body-count for 2012 includes some interesting names.
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- 3 comments
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- 1099 reads
9 November 2012 (Just) - Dear Dairy # 8
Dear dairy,
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- 2 comments
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- 932 reads
9 November 2012 - Dear Dairy # 9
Can't afford welfare? No - can't afford the rich.
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- 5 comments
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- 1652 reads
Confused of... a ramble
Thinking out loud. It's a ramble. You have been warned.
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- 2 comments
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- 917 reads
Corporal Jones?
Was chatting to a friend yesterday and the subject of tolerance was raise. Religious, I think, though it could be any branch.
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- 546 reads
Dear dairy # 2 - "Where's my Steri?"
"Where's my two pints of Steri?", she asked from under her curlers.
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- 3 comments
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- 1172 reads
Frustrations of life
Just a bit of fun in the sun
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- 520 reads
It could be worse
No point in complaining. Won't get you anywhere. All you can do is grit your teeth and get stuck in. Keep your head down, keep your nose clean and don't make waves.
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- 531 reads
Not worth dying for
Revolution and wars of liberation come from the same broken home. Each suffers the same bitter diappointment in its progeny.
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- 516 reads
Soldiers
Warping the language. Words from the cutting-room floor.
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- 646 reads
Striving
Great expectations. You'll be disappointed!
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- 639 reads
The world at rest
Tired rambling on the curious product of centuries of slaughter. Will it always be so?
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- 550 reads
Weston Bay
Our bay was as beautiful as I have ever seen it tonight.
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- 584 reads
Windows
Sport, work and religion: life’s great distractions.
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- 10 comments
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- 2166 reads
Epiphany
"Oi!" Said the bush. "Get yer bloody hair cut."
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- 5 comments
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- 1494 reads
Lest we forget
In Memory of Life
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- 3 comments
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- 1146 reads
Missing the train
Sometimes, missing the train home is the worst thing that can ever happen to you. Things become stark. The difference between where you are and where you want to be dreadfully apparent.
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- 3 comments
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- 1132 reads
Sitting
Sitting on a bench at the cold, windy end of Temple Meads station with complication behind me and complication ahead of me.
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- 2 comments
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- 877 reads
Spider
Even spiders have feelings
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- 2 comments
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- 884 reads
The resignation
Knowing when it's time to go
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- 4 comments
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- 1271 reads
The Question
My friend Michael informs me he is going to Monteverdi's Vespers in Bradford-on-Avon tonight, which prompted me to wonder if they will still be open at that time of night. Belief in service for the scooterist, clearly.
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- 1 comment
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- 696 reads
Fairway (2)
The rain is no match
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- 3 comments
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- 1045 reads
Sunday Service 1030 - 1200, Parson Thru
Traditional winter service.
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- 3 comments
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- 1351 reads
The art of the trivial
Cheer up! It could be worse. Live verse from Trap 1.
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- 6 comments
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- 1597 reads
Form and the flower
Thank you Danny and Jeremy.
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- 536 reads
Form over function
Form over function: I like form, but when push comes to shove, give me function. When a thing is designed well to function at its optimum efficiency, it has a beautiful form anyway.
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- 3 comments
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- 1017 reads
Inner peace
Found myself completely alone on the portion of a train that was being separated off. I was dreaming of being lost in the mountains with the silence. A man came and told me I would
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- 6 comments
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- 1931 reads
Scaring the horses
Horsemeat found in human food! PANIC!!!!
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- 5 comments
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- 1475 reads
It's a circus!
So not funny
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- 5 comments
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- 1291 reads
Which way is up?
Where are you?
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- 3 comments
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- 1198 reads
No rest for the wicked
It’s 03:20 and I’m wide awake. Too much in my stomach and too much on my mind.
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- 5 comments
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- 1436 reads
The people who care
A sad reflection
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- 1 comment
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- 686 reads
Is this death?
Caught on the drop
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- 5 comments
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- 1358 reads
So here we are
Don't stop me.
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- 3 comments
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- 1124 reads
So there it is
Scrambled egg over jalpeno
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- 2 comments
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- 784 reads
Waste of time
It's the obligatory feeling sorry for one's self piece. It will be garbage and it won't be read. Never mind.
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- 7 comments
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- 1646 reads
Wavering Down
From a Mendip
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- 1 comment
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- 822 reads
It was good to see you
Empathising happiness
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- 4 comments
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- 1063 reads
Scraps
More than enough to live on
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- 2 comments
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- 863 reads
Crazy one
Crazy one in a cider, wine and shellfish stupor
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- 480 reads
Monday morning (0725)
Early train again refrain
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- 6 comments
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- 1883 reads
Rain
Rain is pouring down between the platforms A drum-roll on the metal roof A polishing of rails
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- 9 comments
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- 2192 reads
September sky
Somewhere between bed and work. Usual place.
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- 5 comments
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- 1254 reads
Ignore me
I have a boil and a cold
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- 6 comments
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- 1732 reads
God’s Wonderful Railwayman
Sometimes life puts the right person in the right place at the right time.
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- 12 comments
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- 3527 reads
Die Panzerklasse
"Shall we have Handel, dear?" "Irene?" Vorsprung durch technik
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- 13 comments
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- 3078 reads
Inspiration
These words haunt me and keep me climbing when the urge is to look down and let go. They were spoken by astronaut Ken Mattingly and used in Reinert's documentary "For All Mankind".
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- 5 comments
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- 1358 reads
Porridge, peas and parmesan
Daze to go
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- 12 comments
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- 2513 reads
Do you know?
I'm sitting here waiting for the 24th October 2013 to fully get under way so I can embark on a much-needed mini-adventure. In a few hours I'll be...
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- 4 comments
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- 1306 reads
Senor Pulpo
Para mi professora
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- 2 comments
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- 899 reads
Malawi
In the last couple of weeks, I have been trying to write up my visit to Malawi (24 October to 11 November 2013). It's hard work. Writing up that...
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- 11 comments
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- 2661 reads
Crescent moon
The moon looks nice tonight. Slowly setting. I expect Venus is up there somewhere too. Like the Turkish flag. I think of you and your friend watching...
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- 3 comments
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- 1059 reads
Gloom
It's almost onomatopoeic. It sounds like it is . Sounds like it feels. Gloom descended. You can see it descending. No explanation needed. Like a...
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- 2 comments
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- 837 reads
0808 - Parson Street
Just along for the ride
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- 2 comments
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- 824 reads
Conquering fear
I have two more works by Kerouac (courtesy of the postman – what a wonderful profession). And I’ve just about read myself into More. What do I do?...
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- 15 comments
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- 4653 reads
Last train
It's cold. It's 2322. I just missed the 2306. 43216 pulls into platform 10. The driver and his mate drop out to the floor and head. Finished for the...
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- 4 comments
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- 2454 reads
Christmas Eve Night
Christmas Eve night, 2 a.m. This is one of my sleepless nights, then. I’ve been lying here since sometime after midnight. The one or two hours I had...
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- 5 comments
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- 1695 reads
Crazy life
It’s the craziness of it all – the whole thing. Sitting here in my dad’s chair, in the window. He’s here, but he isn’t. A short time ago the room was...
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- 9 comments
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- 2783 reads
Just another journey
Today I passed the Malvern Hills – mini Alps – skies storm-washed, pre-sunset. Low sun streaming in my eyes. The man on the radio said there’s...
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- 1 comment
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- 900 reads
Happy New Year!
So, then, what's all this? I’m sitting here, having had a productive day, still wearing two pairs of socks and outside the rain is lashing onto the...
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- 5 comments
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- 1736 reads
Another year
The world keeps turning
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- 2 comments
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- 898 reads
Why I no longer watch television
Or listen to the radio or read newspapers.
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- 5 comments
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- 1286 reads
First day back
Having dreams make forays into my still-awake mind is like having still-animated eyes pecked by impatient crows.
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- 1 comment
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- 665 reads
Vomiting ideas
Standing in the eternal dark - vomiting ideas
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- 4 comments
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- 1214 reads
About the leaving
It’s all about the leaving. That’s what counts. That’s what gets me. Leaving it all behind. Striking out – hitting the road. Leaving the world behind...
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- 7 comments
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- 2042 reads
Not a pretty site
I drive around this urban blight remembering we are all accidents of birth. Every drab and crumbling home in each depressing council estate placed...
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- 6 comments
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- 1433 reads
Go well Caley
You meet the nicest people drunk in Bristol.
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- 6 comments
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- 1602 reads
One night is very much like the rest
So I’m more than half-way through the book. Ragged tassels mark the page. I fell asleep on the train again. So tired. So fucking tired. I get a...
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- 17 comments
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- 4206 reads
Snowdrops in the donkey field
Yesterday, I witnessed a mist of snowdrops beneath the trees away across the donkey field.
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- 454 reads
A day in a list.
Still in the fight.
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- 394 reads
The ache
Oh, that pain. The one that comes from your guts and tears at your jaw, bursting open your ribs and kicking through your sternum. Is it stress?...
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- 433 reads
Time to head back south.
Driving west across Yorkshire. Probing for the slip-road – A1M, southbound. The South. I think about what I’m leaving. About family. Distant in our...
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- 5 comments
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- 1676 reads
Will you sing me a song of the sea?
Will you sing me a song of the sea? I asked as the wind she blew and howled. Where goes the ship with the swinging mast and the gallant crew, all...
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- 18 comments
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- 4653 reads
Taking time
In childhood, every day seemed to last so long. Adolescence lived among the detail of the world. (Or maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe that’s the myth that...
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- 4 comments
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- 1119 reads
Today is an ok day
Sometimes, you have to come clean and say, "You know, it’s not so bad to be alive". It could be worse – d’ya know what I mean? It’s like there are...
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- 4 comments
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- 951 reads
Mutually Assured Destruction
Can't live together Can't live apart
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- 465 reads
Making sense
Sitting here trying to make sense of it all before dashing out of the door for a train, when it occurred that this may be the problem. Isn’t the...
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- 449 reads
The Flood (IP)
Fans of the Bible (not wishing to defame or libel) Will be looking for blame in all of this rain But if we wait for the floods to abate All the...
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- 4 comments
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- 1057 reads
Another conversation
At last we sat together to talk and you told me everything From your heart and from your head Now I rest in Mayor with my tapa and Rioja and think of...
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- 5 comments
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- 1066 reads
Just words
Wave goodbye as I pass among the stars and my tears will fall like rain to soothe your aching heart Talk to me in the quiet of the night and my...
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- 2 comments
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- 872 reads
Being and gone
An observation from the opposite track
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- 12 comments
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- 2675 reads
Dazzled
Dazzled! The sun-god is in the ascendancy and I'm listening to the bass on The Charlatans' "Forever". Burly Poles are squaring up to each other in...
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- 425 reads
Más que la belleza
A smile is like an opened window.
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- 4 comments
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- 1531 reads
Tickets please, guys
"Tickets please, guys." "Guys" A useful word. Adds nothing. Takes nothing away. Hides everything. May safely be used in an office, on a train, with...
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- 410 reads
This is not over yet
Hell, I’ve just realised that it’s 25 years this month since I walked out on my first real job – a whole quarter century. “Howizzeeeeeeeee?” “Not out...
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- 4 comments
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- 1297 reads
The flea
A thought to see me through the day
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- 3 comments
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- 1063 reads
A helluva day
Well it’s been a helluva day. Woke at 5 a.m. needing the toilet and emptied my entire gut in four successive sessions, reminiscent of my visit to...
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- 3 comments
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- 985 reads
This is my prayer
To speak the language of Tirso, de Vega and Cervantes. To walk the streets hand in hand is all that I ask Anything else is too much to bear This is...
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- 4 comments
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- 1098 reads
Why ABCtales is important
Why ABCtales is important Because when I lay my head on the pillow and weep The last thing I think before I sleep is "Now it's out there"
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- 4 comments
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- 1107 reads
Checkout girl
You want heavy and meaningful? Check this out! ;-)
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- 2 comments
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- 683 reads
Waiting
It’s nearly ten months I compile the photos in my mind and wonder how we’ll be I’ve never seen you so happy You and the horse swimming the lake I...
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- 4 comments
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- 1091 reads
From obscurity to obscurity and back
I took a trip from one place to another - I forget the details now. It was a bumpy ride all the way and in the the end I had to ask myself why I did...
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- 7 comments
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- 1235 reads
Crumbs
Easter egg all over the carpet.
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- 2 comments
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- 824 reads
Ramble through the musical brambles
Why am I telling you this?
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- 4 comments
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- 1189 reads
The best thing
The very best
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- 2 comments
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- 647 reads
El vuelo de noche
I watch the lights of the city fall away again
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- 4 comments
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- 1047 reads
Fiesta time!
The Fiesta failed the MoT
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- 2 comments
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- 655 reads
You've got to laugh
There’s a man lying dying in a hospital bed. He’s my uncle. And I think to myself “Why wait?” “What’s the point?” Just hanging around. It’s all we...
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- 3 comments
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- 985 reads
Because I can speak
The clouds keep passing over but it’s still recognisably summer The kids in the park lithe and lean Male, female it doesn’t matter It all means the...
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- 4 comments
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- 1235 reads
Not everybody will like this
Oh for God's sake, in a perfect world, put me on an airplane at Terminal 5 and tell me I'm never coming back. Is it too late for a Green Card and...
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- 474 reads
Wonderful
The fingers know where to go It's the heart and the mind that lose their way Blown about by every small disturbance of the air I shorten my step for...
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- 4 comments
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- 1314 reads
Eye of the storm
The I in the storm
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- 2 comments
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- 908 reads
There is no silence
The world's gone silent. I can't bear it. I rummage in my pocket for the shining green blade. Metallic, like an insect carapace. I slide my thumb and...
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- 6 comments
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- 1613 reads
I wish
I envy you women. I always have. That understanding. That thing you have. I've never been one for boisterous things. That thumping-chested manhood...
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- 3 comments
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- 950 reads
His saffron robes
Well, I'm seriously contemplating a life of abstinence and clean-living, if only I was any good at that kind of thing. Experience shows I'm not...
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- 5 comments
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- 1332 reads
There's more to life than dinner
Today I lost my brolly It was beautiful blue and bright orange and came all the way from Malawi It really is quite sad
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- 5 comments
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- 1245 reads
BRE York
BRE York Almost rhymes with work Almost, but not quite Something isn't right Which comes to mind every time I see this sign cut into a carriage floor...
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- 1635 reads
Stupid people scare me
Stupid things happen when stupid people are given authority Bad things happen when stupid people are given uniforms Look what happens when you give...
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- 652 reads
Prayer
There is no bullshit Only comfort, hope and blue sky I hope I get to leave before I die
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- 370 reads
Gulls above Lawrence Hill
Watching gulls soaring on the evening thermals, so high. Almost at the edge of cloud and blue sky. And I felt how it must be to fly beside them,...
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- 4 comments
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- 1016 reads
If souls inhabited machines
Standing in the morning sun they wait, patiently as Alexander’s horses would have done. Well-proportioned as a draughtsman’s dream, they’re dressed...
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- 7 comments
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- 2283 reads
Legacy
A younger cohort cramming onto the train tonight. Rats scrambling over each other's backs. At best, a brief foot-hold. A thousand writhing cobbles in...
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- 679 reads
Whats happening in the world?
There’s so much bad news, she said. What’s happening in the world? I can’t bear it. I know, I answered. I’m trying to maintain a balance between my...
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- 1289 reads
Mother
Sorry - strong feelings / words. Look away if it's not your thing.
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- 374 reads
Parson Thru
Is it time to give this one a go? Apologies to the living (readers included).
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- 10 comments
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- 1919 reads
PT 2
Paddy was our milkman. He was a character – all those people were characters then. He was probably 60-ish, but even people my age now looked old to a...
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- 5 comments
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- 1101 reads
On Passing Through
Ode to Jack
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- 9 comments
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- 2842 reads
Never forget
Never forget that every symphony, fresco, dome and arch, each insight into heaven, hell, the universe, each formula, equation, every foray to the...
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- 378 reads
Cost-benefit Analysis
I’m trying to sleep Lying open-eyed
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- 2 comments
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- 806 reads
Nosebleed
I sit here imagining a nosebleed Nostrils hot and overfull Metallic wine in my throat and drip, drip dripping from my nose onto my clothes Outside,...
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- 362 reads
In the moment
Sitting here with Kerouac and Larkin stuffed in my bag (and two left in an old ten-pack, but that's our little secret). Got Dylan pushed in my ear...
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- 750 reads
Cut loose
Well, we’re outbound again tomorrow. Paris.
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- 7 comments
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- 1467 reads
Fear of flying
Looks like we're in for a roller-coaster white-knuckle ride Never mind What's to lose? I'm having fun Taking in the views and eating Andouillette...
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- 518 reads
Parisienne thoughts
Parisienne thoughts. Sitting in the jardín (courtyard) of the Hotel du Moulin. The sun is lighting the rim of the wall and my little square of sky is...
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- 2 comments
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- 762 reads
Monday morning
Every now and again you get something that sweeps in as a great unstoppable wave. An enforced change of mind, sitting in Monday's delayed train, not...
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- 4 comments
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- 1191 reads
Tangled up in blue ride 1
This is the Tangled Up In Blue Ride because that’s the song whose lyrics I sang from 12:30 until 20:00. I’ve struggled to get out for rides this...
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- 707 reads
Tangled up in blue ride 2
Lying on a high grass bank above the Wye Tintern standing tall behind the trees Empty windows framing sky Between the showers sun lights up late...
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- 744 reads
Tangled up in blue ride 3
Through towns and villages Forest of Dean Symonds Yat signposted At Monmouth I turn left without stopping Leaving behind its bridge its history and...
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- 5 comments
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- 1056 reads
Is there any greater love
Is there any greater love than a mother’s for her child?
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- 5 comments
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- 1040 reads
Old Harris Tweed
Moss, peat and lichen woven into cloth How many autumn afternoons have you known How many wardrobes fireplaces and smoked-filled rooms What bar-ends...
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- 12 comments
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- 3479 reads
This morning I passed a wonderful scene
This morning I passed a wonderful scene An A4 Pacific raising steam Beautiful blue and black design coupled against the proportioned line of a...
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- 5 comments
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- 1249 reads
Macbeth
Does anything live up to the idea? Does it live up to expectation? For a moment, perhaps. Maybe the shutter will open and close at the right moment...
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- 857 reads
Clouds
I close my eyes to the sun streaming low through the window and I'm flying above pink clouds their upper surface shining reflecting the light Sky...
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- 2 comments
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- 952 reads
Radiogram
The sound of lost voices
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- 14 comments
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- 2936 reads
Wallpaper
Do you remember those half-demolished houses with wallpaper hanging off walls? Fireplaces? Like finding a naked corpse.
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- 2 comments
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- 808 reads
The only thing
In the quiet of the night
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- 444 reads
The Barley Mow
A languid late summer evening. Drinking urban cider under gently breathing trees by the Barley Mow. We spoke of God and goings-on in the corporate...
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- 5 comments
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- 1190 reads
Buen Camino!
From Saint Jean to Santiago a las siete we set out sore and confused aching for sleep The splendour of the sky looking on we pass it by torches...
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- 491 reads
Destination: nowhere
Nothing but a ride
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- 4 comments
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- 1020 reads
99 words
I play it through and play it through and through All the while it breaks and breaks and keeps on breaking down My head is filled with phone calls,...
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- 2 comments
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- 752 reads
Camino 1 – 18 October 2014
18 October 2014 Yesterday, I took a small, sharp pair of scissors and cut off a flap of skin from under my foot. The scissors were curved so that I...
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- 15 comments
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- 4163 reads
Camino 2 - 21 September 2014
The rucksacks turned out to fit the cabin-baggage gauge, which was a relief. We shoved them in the lockers and strapped ourselves in. Expectation was...
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- 4 comments
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- 1484 reads
Camino 3 - 3 November 2014
Monday 3 November and the Camino is falling back into the weeks and months behind me. I visualise the stages of Apollo's Saturn V rocket falling...
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- 1162 reads
Camino 3a – 22 September 2014
Camino 3a – 22 September 2014, 09:15 We met a man outside Oviedo railway station. He was wearing shorts and walking shoes and carrying a rucksack...
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- 5 comments
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- 2406 reads
For The Dead
Through the park comes the beating of drums, the bugler's call and the question: How can you never learn? At 11:02 we go on with our lives - those...
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- 6 comments
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- 1306 reads
Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday Hazel How I dug your party on this dank pre-winter evening Such a shame I had to leave Lou tuned up, plugged-in Deborah, book poised...
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- 392 reads
Blues
When I’m under this cloud can God see me? Where does the sun go?
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- 5 comments
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- 1318 reads
Camino 4 – 23 September 2014
Camino 4 – 23 September 2014 Astorga to Rabanal del Camino My ongoing cold was making me snore more loudly than usual, filling the night with tension...
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- 6 comments
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- 2532 reads
Waiting
An owl called out in the darkness. It was half-three when Stone last looked at the clock. The owl called again, further away this time. Its wavering...
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- 2 comments
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- 799 reads
Camino 5 – 24 September 2014
Rabanal del Camino to Molinaseca
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- 9 comments
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- 3569 reads
The shack
The right booze and the right tunes will keep me going a little longer when the other things around here have shortened off my life It’s a fact Did I...
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- 694 reads
So. This is also Christmas
0730 Looks like it's still dark outside and Radio York is coming up through the floor. We're all different, I suppose. Some people need that noise...
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- 8 comments
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- 1985 reads
Darkened mirror
Life: beautiful and awful in the same instant Love and hatred in a heartbeat In the blinking of an eye Except I cannot hate So I feel sadness...
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- 4 comments
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- 1132 reads
Camino 6 – 25 September 2014 Pt 1
Riego de Ambros (via Molinaseca) - Ponferrada We slept pretty well in the wooden cubicles of the albergue. But at some point in the middle of the...
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- 1500 reads
Camino 6 – 25 September 2014 Pt 2
Ponferrada - Villafranca del Bierzo We walked up into the plaza mayor, with the Basilica de la Encina in one corner, and out through a short street...
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- 5 comments
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- 2323 reads
Reward
I’m listening to a conversation on the morning train. She sounds desperate, holding onto herself so tight, but trying to appear fun and upbeat.
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- 4 comments
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- 1061 reads
Happy Birthday David
I make the 11:06 from Temple Meads. It fills with detritus - the rambling drunks of Bristol. Tired of their sadness, I force the soft rubber of...
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- 15 comments
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- 2617 reads
Oh Sunday
Oh, Sunday. Sitting here among my lists. Books half-read, stories half-written. I hear the silence behind the ringing in my ears and see the sun’s...
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- 9 comments
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- 1904 reads
Camino 7 - 26 September 2014
Villafranca del Bierzo to O’ Cebreiro N’s alarm woke us from a deep sleep. It was still dark. It was the first decent rest for almost a week and we...
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- 4 comments
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- 1476 reads
Iberia awaits
Me and a touch-screen phone. Lying in the dark, going nowhere, feeling nothing but the sweat on my skin and the weight of another day pressing in...
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- 11 comments
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- 2342 reads
Camino 8a – 27 September 2014
La Faba to O’ Cebreiro I first started writing these notes up in October 2014. People, places and events and so many conversations were still very...
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- 1371 reads
Camino 8b – 27 September 2014
O' Cebreiro to Triacastela We headed out of Cebreiro and down a cobbled track to the main road. Helpfully, a signpost pointed left to Triacastela and...
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- 4 comments
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- 2030 reads
Notes from Andalucía
Looking out at the moving landscape of mountains and olive groves north of Málaga, I see a beautiful but poor country. I think about the turmoil this...
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- 729 reads
The edge of something
Standing at the edge of something Now and long ago Shadows formed in distant mist Down among the trees Remembering the midweek bells Wondering Shapes...
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- 2 comments
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- 769 reads
Camino 9a – 28 September 2014
Triacastela to Sarria We passed a fairly restful night in our opposite corners of the room at the O Peregrino. In the morning, from our window we...
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- 2 comments
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- 1687 reads
Camino 9b – 28 September 2014
Triacastela to Sarria (continued) The rain hit us sideways from across the fields as we walked the last kilometre into Sarria. We tried to protect...
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- 2 comments
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- 1530 reads
Camino 10
Somewhere on the road between Sarria and Palas de Rei we encountered an Englishman in his early-to-mid sixties. He was slight and mild-mannered,...
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- 7 comments
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- 2818 reads
Commuter-dream
It drifts over neighbourhoods across whom night has fallen Cars waiting in lots Buildings standing with windows lit Work lying on benches and desks...
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- 11 comments
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- 2821 reads
Cedar wood
Cedar scent hangs on the slopes of Mt. Mulanje Mahogany boys in football shorts run sweating along the tracks with planks Contraband clutched to...
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- 7 comments
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- 2079 reads
Camino 11a – 29 September 2014
Sarria to Portomarin Part 1 N’s alarm woke us at around six. Living in hope, we checked the time just in case it had gone off an hour early and we...
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- 7 comments
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- 2420 reads
Camino 11b – 29 September 2014
Sarria to Portomarin – Part 2 We walked on into the afternoon, counting down the half-kilometre markers to Santiago. It could be a dispiriting...
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- 4 comments
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- 1902 reads
Release
Running out on madness and a backlog of chores I grip the bars and charge into the wind Playing dice with cars I find my way through echoes of a...
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- 4 comments
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- 1400 reads
History
When I was younger, I believed in History, like everybody else. Then I was educated out of it. Now I believe in it again. Not as a great abstract...
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- 444 reads
Italia 15 - Bergamo
It was the first time I’d noticed the slight shudder through the airframe when an aircraft rotates clear of the runway. Or maybe it was just the...
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- 2 comments
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- 699 reads
Bright lights, big smile
The art of keepin keepin on
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- 11 comments
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- 2260 reads
Madame Maserati - Reprise
She moved along the line Left my life for a while I never noticed that she’d gone Then three weeks ago I saw her striding for her train Alice-band...
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- 12 comments
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- 3048 reads
Deeper
It's deep. Elemental Deeper than I ever knew Startled, I realise how far inside it lies How real it is and question what we're doing Will this...
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- 5 comments
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- 1124 reads
Journey
Sadness pours from the page Pervading the empty echo of dreams Where hopes are exchanged between hobos Lost between hard lessons and promises...
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- 2 comments
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- 963 reads
Another Friday
Two o'clock I just watched it go My guts are raw My head's in turmoil And I know I won't sleep The drunks howl in the town Their cars race through...
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- 1 comment
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- 562 reads
Mirror
Reintroduction over, food eaten, we stretched out in the bar She looked deep into me I haven't seen you smile yet Where's the excitement? The old...
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- 9 comments
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- 1772 reads
Effigy
Suggested by An Arundel Tomb
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- 4 comments
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- 962 reads
Rain-check
I look around, seeing only ugliness Heathen creatures prowl issuing hateful, slightly baffled stares "Get out of my eyes!" I scream, looking for...
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- 2 comments
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- 674 reads
High Summer
Seems that all the school-leavers are completely off their nuts on the train from Temple Meads today. An assortment of experimental festival clothing...
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- 4 comments
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- 1307 reads
The leaving
Going someplace, leaving something Can’t think of anything lights my fire the same Burning through time with a need to be and see A need to be...
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- 395 reads
Próxima Parada
The bus stopped with a lurch. Several passengers, who'd been preoccupied, spilled into the aisle among a confusion of paper and gadgets. Outside, the...
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- 695 reads
Abstract scribble
Shaven shaman Sean Modern mystic Drawn in lipstick Floating like a phantom in the middle of the room Broken bottle Bennie Dry and wheezy Takes it...
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- 6 comments
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- 1377 reads
Entertaining my demons
I wake with a jolt. I've just kicked the wooden window-ledge with the third toe of my left foot - the same one that struck N's laptop screen edge-on...
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- 6 comments
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- 1384 reads
The swimmer
It’s an hour and a half after midnight, Thursday 27 August. It would have been my dad’s eighty-seventh birthday. I’m sitting in an empty living-room...
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- 6 comments
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- 1326 reads
En Madrid 1
I think I’ve found my bar.
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- 9 comments
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- 1784 reads
The cusp of sleep
Lying in my sweat in a place I don’t know which, as of now, is my home Drunk on the new and the free and cheap Rioja Trying to find the chink of...
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- 1063 reads
Two-week-point
I walked across Plaza de Manuel Becerra tonight on the way back from the kebab restaurant. I was struck by the great open space between the curvature...
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- 6 comments
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- 1210 reads
Retiro
I'm sitting in Retiro where the space permits me to think awhile Where the breeze scatters dreams and birds fuss amongst my cares Where the sun...
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- 2 comments
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- 687 reads
Knowing Time
Safe journey, my love
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- 2 comments
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- 794 reads
Salamanca Sunday
I just subdued myself in a bout of moral wrestling. The issue was whether I should base my opinion of my flatmate’s behaviour on stereotype. The...
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- 5 comments
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- 1223 reads
Evening shift
I’m sitting in one of Salamanca’s broad plazas, traffic circulating around a junction between radiant arteries. At the tables around me sit Franco’s...
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- 2 comments
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- 902 reads
Road
0345. The latest of the refuse trucks is whining, clattering and bumping outside the window. The procession began about 1215. Some nights I don't...
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- 3 comments
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- 803 reads
Walk n talk
10:36 am from Estacion Sur de Autobuses, a stone’s throw from Atocha. The driver was a surly entertainer of women who cough through decades of tar...
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- 345 reads
Plaza de Juan Pujol Feeling
Sitting here at my table in Plaza de Juan Pujol exploring all the space around me. Dylan and band playing the Free Trade Hall. Kerouac and Cassady...
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- 4 comments
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- 1053 reads
Stateless
More road unrolls. New possibilities dance at the union of centreline and sky. Another parting in the great coming together. And I'm floating down an...
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- 2 comments
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- 719 reads
Viernes el decimotercer (part two)
A new notebook – always something to savour, but especially in these straightened times. The other one is just about filled with random scribbles and...
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- 5 comments
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- 1180 reads
Home
Why do I carry this hole inside? As I walk beneath a postcard sky, down adventurous streets, why are these eyes so weary and moist? What is this...
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- 2 comments
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- 747 reads
The smell of honest work (2015)
I recall machinery Heavy steel Hot grease and movement Engineered and precise I recall the thrum and clatter of machines set to the task Room-filling...
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- 6 comments
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- 1436 reads
Another sunny Saturday
Another sunny Saturday Families and foursomes are scattered around the terrace, enjoying the Saturday afternoon, eating lunch and maybe a social...
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- 3 comments
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- 1058 reads
The sound of the night
I asked the man with the battered case what I should do. He said: "Pack it all away in your head to exist among songs, until it becomes a song. Until...
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- 1 comment
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- 567 reads
Sink or swim
This week, following the departure from Madrid of my drinking partner and friend, Miguel, I found myself sinking back into a deep and dark place. It...
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- 1 comment
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- 591 reads
Lives
This strange business Of moving in circles And circles about circles Delicate dance of the disaffected Describing their distant geometry You, me, the...
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- 2 comments
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- 621 reads
On aesthetics and injustice
Another attempt at making sense Inspired by reports that the Dalai Lama would like us to contemplate our predilection for wealth and war.
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- 6 comments
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- 1103 reads
Seen from a distance
Basalt arms encircling the bay Bring comfort to me in this foreign lay Sensing in this place The rough security of their embrace I watch the tide rip...
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- 4 comments
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- 1699 reads
Tengan cuidado
Estación es en curva
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- 332 reads
Just a matter of getting there
The first year is the hardest. That’s what they told him.
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- 2 comments
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- 776 reads
Isolation
The radio in the café is off-station
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- 2 comments
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- 761 reads
The libraries are closing
The libraries are closing Because people find their books online The publishers and distributors want everyone to buy their own They've told us we...
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- 5 comments
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- 1208 reads
Open letter to the sun
Semana Santa has arrived
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- 2 comments
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- 737 reads
It's all about the motor
An indulgence
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- 626 reads
Ebb and flow
I used to think I was something special
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- 2 comments
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- 778 reads
in an airbnb
It's not an ad. Really.
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- 4 comments
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- 1203 reads
Leaving things as you found them
Reflections in Lavapies
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- 2 comments
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- 881 reads
Valencia
En abril, aguas mil. (It rains a lot in April.)
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- 6 comments
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- 1099 reads
Metrodream
The soft sensation of being propelled sidelong through a hole in the ground Steel whispering to steel Increasing, till it's almost too much Drifting...
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- 2 comments
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- 628 reads
The band
Might be a bit rough and ready. Posted from the sunshine of a street cafe. Can barely see the screen.
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- 2 comments
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- 572 reads
Sometimes
Sometimes you know you’re a lucky man when, despite the things you’ve done, life gives you all that you need, and more and you wonder just how it can...
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- 2 comments
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- 688 reads
Dreams and reality: "Dubliners"
Friday. It feels like the weekend. My morning class was cancelled, giving me a sleep-in. What a luxury. I thought I’d lose my dependency on weekends...
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- 5 comments
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- 1567 reads
Porcelain perch 1
The porcelain perch: 1 – dreams and reality
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- 4 comments
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- 946 reads
Porcelain perch 2 - we're all in it together
The main weakness with trying to understand human life lies with its basic building-block: the human-being. Does anyone genuinely believe that any one group of humans is all good and others all bad? Do they believe that any one individual is always good or always bad? Buddha, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed (and all of those I’ve missed) were human beings. Where does that leave the rest of us?
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- 327 reads
Live for tomorrow today
Advice: never work when you’re drunk or high. Ok. Or when your glasses need cleaning. Or when you’re feeling generally out of sorts, or dislocated,...
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- 495 reads
Star Wars Day - Paseo de Castellana
May the fourth be with you. I was reminded of it by Facebook, who wanted me to share a photo from three years ago. It was my Harley Sportster,...
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- 4 comments
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- 851 reads
Fin de semana
Friday morning 06:30. First alarm goes off. I check whatsapp messages and send a quick Good morning! 06:32. Second alarm. Thirty minutes to shower...
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- 2 comments
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- 713 reads
San Isidro and the plumber
God is pouring His love down on the bulls. In fact, it’s pissing-down on them. Madrid’s bullfighting should have begun on 4 May and run right through...
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- 3 comments
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- 647 reads
Trying to get by
For the third day in a row I’m sitting in the sun having breakfast at a pavement café. This doesn’t really fit with the spending plan, but right now...
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- 1323 reads
a foreign land
a foreign land on a balcony above the street the glue I used to fix my shoes is drying in the heat they were my dad’s repaired with love abused daily...
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- 1204 reads
Breakfast, gravitational waves and gods
Friday morning finds me sitting once again on the terrace of a French café in Madrid. No lesson today – I lost that particular gig, but they’re the...
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- 293 reads
The black cat
A large black cat ran across my window this morning, somewhere between sleep and waking. I looked to see what this might portend and found it can...
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- 351 reads
Lost and found
Happy Birthday, Bob.
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- 350 reads
What if?
I watched a column of ants
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- 2 comments
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- 587 reads
The woodpecker
The woodpecker whom we imbue with such mysticism cloak in so much secrecy lives an open life in the centre of this town I hear him now hammering...
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- 333 reads
Watching lizards
I’m learning your language Vacant as a child watching lizards by the rio Whereas before it was all a bit of a game It isn’t anymore All of that has...
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- 570 reads
Beneath the surface
The title my English teacher always gave us for corrective story-writing. So much better than lines. Thank you Mr. Carroll.
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- 1316 reads
The garden of earthly preoccupation
Guilt is sunning itself in the garden. Upturned plates on supermarket steaks deny the flies, whom, I’m convinced, would indulge, given half a chance...
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- 2258 reads
Leicester Forest East
Ten-thirty in a filthy room M1 rumbling on its endless way to nowhere Forty-five quid blown on some kind of dream She sleeps I lie on the “family”...
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- 373 reads
The grass is always greener
29 August. Clouds part and the sun shines upon the ancient City of York, picking out insecurities and lost aspirations among the limestone and...
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- 715 reads
Room service
Really? Who gives a flying page of etiquette?
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- 327 reads
Collateral damage
Letter to Danny - notes
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- 4 comments
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- 1030 reads
Three moments
Twixt here and there
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- 1 comment
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- 433 reads
Café verse
Instant poetry Forgive me, arbiters of craft. A loose pen and an empty page.
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- 2 comments
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- 744 reads
To my Valentine
It's mathematics
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- 1 comment
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- 632 reads
It's all mathematics
A re-working. Hope you don't mind the re-publishing. Why do we put ourselves through this?
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- 11 comments
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- 4638 reads
Basura
Monday is basura night. They come at fairly regular intervals through the night: the cardboard, the plastic and the organic. Plus a mystery truck...
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- 4 comments
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- 1790 reads
Something lingers
Like smoke from a cannonade or the faded remnant of a dream something lingers On this sunlit afternoon parakeets exchange their vulgar news Gravel...
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- 654 reads
Trying for an early night and failing – 2 March 2017
The parquet floor is unimpressed with the scattering of shoes and guitars. It has known better evenings – so have I. The French window, opened for...
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- 866 reads
Encounters
It’s why I love cities. Every moment is a movie-scene – as profound or as shallow as you make it. Add sun and it becomes extrovert and exotic.
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- 1169 reads
Should I stay or should I go
To remain in Spain or not to remain in Spain falls mainly on the plain issue of quality of life – and guilt at what you left behind. Dashed-off while I should be working. Apologies if not polished.
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- 1 comment
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- 604 reads
Nothing to say
And a hundred ways of saying it
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- 2 comments
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- 667 reads
Mechero
Thinking about the impossibility of it all, I slip back into gloom and reach for Ginsberg.
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- 4 comments
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- 947 reads
17 April 2017
Just had the strangest sensation. Ever had it? The one where someone pours something nice over you, causing a tingle from your scalp all the way down...
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- 4 comments
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- 1157 reads
You always knew: a poem for the death of progressive politics and the passing of the Welfare State
A tribute to the people who simply had to bide their time
Sky thoughts
I used to hate this. Looking out the window at a gently rocking wing flashing in the morning sun. The fear has gone. What’s to be scared of? I’m in...
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- 6 comments
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- 1378 reads
Instantáneo
The wandering teacher of Inglés has wandered into the Reina Sofía Stimulation space Inspiration space Thinking space He ponders will he wander to...
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- 4 comments
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- 1444 reads
Three lines
How do you summarise three lines?
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- 2 comments
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- 680 reads
In the square
Night fall. Voices compete under crowdedwhite umbrellas printed “Mahou”. Loud, happy, life-loving. What else can you do? Plate of Callos, which I...
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- 4 comments
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- 940 reads
Boatman's dream 2
On station, Lat: 51.338917, Long: -3.115461, Visibility: good, Wind: NE, moderate
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- 4 comments
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- 979 reads
Boatman's dream 3
The stranger makes landfall.
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- 4 comments
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- 868 reads
Boatman's dream 4
Time for a pint.
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- 7 comments
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- 1307 reads
Boatman's dream 5
Civic duty
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- 6 comments
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- 963 reads
Boatman's dream 6
Self-doubt kicks in
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- 11 comments
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- 2220 reads
Boatman's dream 7
The landing
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- 6 comments
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- 1420 reads
Boatman's dream 8
One of us?
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- 4 comments
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- 1315 reads
Boatman's dream 9
Moorings Committee pre-meeting
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- 556 reads
Boatman's dream 10
The penny falls
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- 8 comments
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- 2740 reads
The search for hope
The search for hope goes on
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- 441 reads
Boatman's dream 11
Formal business
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- 501 reads
Boatman's dream 12
Down to the real business
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- 2 comments
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- 565 reads
Boatman's dream 13
One of us
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- 2 comments
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- 584 reads
Boatman's dream 14
Saturday morning on the wharf
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- 6 comments
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- 1313 reads
The woman outside the window
The woman outside the window lifts the bag to her lips
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- 5 comments
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- 1152 reads
Boatman's dream 15
Ambition and tradition
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- 6 comments
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- 1386 reads
Boatman's dream 16
Talk to the right people
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- 2 comments
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- 786 reads
Boatman's dream 17
High-water
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- 2 comments
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- 778 reads
Boatman's dream 18
Worst-fears
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- 4 comments
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- 900 reads
Boatman's dream 20
An extraordinary meeting
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- 4 comments
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- 1123 reads
Boatman's dream 21
Two worlds
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- 6 comments
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- 1201 reads
From a bus
Observing summer
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- 8 comments
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- 1868 reads
Boatman's dream 22
Cards on the table
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- 6 comments
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- 2290 reads
Boatman's dream 23
Discretion is the better part of valour
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- 5 comments
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- 1252 reads
Boatman's dream 24
Wheels within wheels
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- 487 reads
Boatman's dream 25
At anchor in the fog
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- 5 comments
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- 1158 reads
Boatman's dream 26
Breakfast
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- 6 comments
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- 1536 reads
Boatman's dream 27
The quest
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- 6 comments
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- 1622 reads
Boatman's dream 28
An invitation
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- 7 comments
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- 1547 reads
Boatman's dream 29
Taking a turn
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- 5 comments
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- 2215 reads
Boatman's dream 31
Ben gets his story
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- 4 comments
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- 920 reads
Tail-end
Tail-end tale in a passing storm
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- 35 comments
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- 20246 reads
Elsewhere...
WIFI broken. Phone alone.
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- 4 comments
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- 1261 reads
Boatman's dream 32
Clear as the Severn fog (oops! Missed a section out. Reinstated.)
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- 3 comments
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- 880 reads
A train window in my mind
Ghosts now
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- 9 comments
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- 2115 reads
A little bird told me
A bird landed on my finger today.
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- 6 comments
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- 1651 reads
End of term challenges
Thursday. Two of my students took me for a surprise breakfast this morning, for the last class of the academic year. It’s an important time in...
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- 3 comments
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- 951 reads
Boatman's dream 33
People do very strange things
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- 6 comments
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- 1390 reads
Lozano, the fishing boat and the nun
There were three of us: the skipper, me and one other
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- 4 comments
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- 1160 reads
Boatman's dream 34
A drive across the Levels
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- 2 comments
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- 586 reads
New notebook
Whenever you’re thinking it’s all gone wrong And you don’t know why you’re doing it anymore Call into your favourite place Chat with the waiters Ask...
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- 1 comment
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- 687 reads
Scraps of Aragón
Scraps 1 - 4
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- 2 comments
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- 1202 reads
Exploring Zaragoza
So off I go exploring. Exploration is something that I always used to do with N – for many years, anyway. Before that, I explored in my own little...
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- 6 comments
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- 1155 reads
Boatman's dream 35
A day in the office
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- 8 comments
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- 1406 reads
Huesca
I suppose it began with half a plan to catch a bus out to Delicias – the bus and train space-station on the edge of Zaragoza. I’d asked about buses...
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- 2 comments
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- 653 reads
Boatman's dream 36
Tea down on the yard
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- 1 comment
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- 502 reads
Leaving Zaragoza
I’m sitting in the floodlit Plaza del Pilar thinking this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. The buildings are dramatic works of art...
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- 6 comments
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- 1410 reads
Puente Romano
By the stroke of the bell
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- 2 comments
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- 548 reads
Guilt and castañas
Seasoning in the sun
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- 420 reads
Linea 4
Twelve-thirty, teaching done A carriage filled with motley souls winding south There being no signal on this line I worry-out the tangle in my...
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- 11 comments
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- 2228 reads
Last quatrain home
Inspired by "Audenesque"
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- 6 comments
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- 1484 reads
Living the dream
Somewhere between days and dreams
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- 4 comments
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- 997 reads
Why flags scare me
Plain and simple
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- 18 comments
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- 4076 reads
Sábado por la tarde
It makes no difference
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- 4 comments
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- 1470 reads
Any old Friday
the thirteenth
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- 8 comments
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- 1789 reads
The crowd
My mam and dad did everything as part of a crowd. A self-reinforcing group – bigger the better in terms of security and recognition – being one of...
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- 7 comments
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- 1755 reads
Creeping death
More heartfelt cheer...
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- 7 comments
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- 1742 reads
The Grand Narrative
AI: thanks for the lesson.
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- 2 comments
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- 764 reads
Crisis? What crisis?
Another Friday comes around
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- 4 comments
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- 1138 reads
Café sounds
Always waiting
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- 5 comments
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- 1772 reads
When the shit hits the fan
A song or something
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- 2 comments
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- 673 reads
Fort Mars
They're singing my praises back home
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- 2 comments
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- 806 reads
Just another Sunday
Song, maybe
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- 4 comments
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- 1074 reads
Time isn't everything
Vivaldi: “The Four Seasons, Concerto No. 4 in F minor, Op. 8, RV 297, "L'inverno" (Winter), Movement 1: Allegro non molto”
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- 9 comments
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- 2157 reads
Cat and Mouse
Ispired by Elsie. Such an interesting read that the thoughts pursued me into the hinterland of sleep. Ergo....
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- 2 comments
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- 662 reads
Postcard from L4
Dear N, hope this card finds you well.
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- 8 comments
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- 1674 reads
The old folks
The old folks fear the foreigners
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- 11 comments
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- 4818 reads
One sparrow among many
New leaves aplenty
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- 3 comments
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- 1328 reads
Traveller
Tell me how did you arrive here in my street? What route What circumstances brought you? You looked tired worn and broken Sad and somewhat out of...
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- 10 comments
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- 2862 reads
Imaginary messages
“Come and meet us in Retiro. The sun is high and bright. February’s lost its grip. Come and meet us in the park.” “Hombre. Estoy infermo. I’m sick...
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- 4 comments
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- 1007 reads
Red light
Red light Are you real Or a pale reflection Ghostly reflex in the pane Filtered in winter’s Soft accumulations Washed by morning sun Floating in a...
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- 2 comments
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- 586 reads
Wages of fortune
Wednesday morning. Sitting by an open door. Coffee long drunk.
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- 11 comments
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- 2180 reads
You can learn a lot about life just sitting in the right place
You can learn a lot about life just sitting in the right place for a while and listening – or perhaps overhearing. If it’s free to air, I’m not doing...
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- 10 comments
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- 2318 reads
Beggarwoman
Not sure about this. Feels dehumanising but, if I'm honest, this is the image that's conjoured.
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- 8 comments
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- 1708 reads
Trial and error
Messing about
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- 2 comments
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- 717 reads
The facts of life
From "Reading the news"
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- 6 comments
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- 1144 reads
circular (IP)
I got the maths question right!
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- 13 comments
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- 2749 reads
Journey home
Hope & Glory
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- 14 comments
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- 2903 reads
Around four
A here and now one
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- 1 comment
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- 536 reads
Gaia visits
A flash in the pan
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- 6 comments
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- 1525 reads
El primero de junio
The first of June
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- 14 comments
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- 4218 reads
Twixt Cibeles and Zanzibar
Almuerzo. Not quite dinner.
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- 4 comments
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- 922 reads
Don't get caught thinking
Contemplating the work of Artur Barrio
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- 337 reads
Sunday morning street cafe
Sunday stream of consciousness
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- 6 comments
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- 2360 reads
Partially cloudy, some chance of rain
Ramblings by the tracks
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- 4 comments
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- 973 reads
Vamos España
Evening. There’s heat in the sun as it banks across the square. They said it wouldn’t be long. Things all fall into place. No row of bells or...
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- 20 comments
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- 7406 reads
Cocoa works and Guernica
Strange thing is...
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- 5 comments
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- 1242 reads
Situation normal
Whiter than white
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- 1 comment
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- 505 reads
Aftermath of Beatriz González’ Colombia of satire and pain
Surrounded by inspiration
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- 267 reads
People make all the difference
Breeze blows in from the balcony
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- 4 comments
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- 1202 reads
Breakfast in the sun
Trying to beat the sparrows to the toast
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- 2 comments
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- 583 reads
Crossing Castellana at Colón
A hot afternoon walking home
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- 4 comments
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- 1427 reads
In the garden of Sorolla
Again
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- 5 comments
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- 1058 reads
Extremadura
Home to Pizarro, Cortéz, Carlos and Javier
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- 3 comments
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- 763 reads
Same same
Help! But don't break into a sweat
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- 318 reads
Window on the universe
After Apollinaire
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- 18 comments
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- 3914 reads
Summer's end
Another summer passes
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- 2 comments
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- 744 reads
You ask about loss
Another stab at an old theme
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- 8 comments
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- 1624 reads
General Synopsis
General Synopsis as at 21:37 CET
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- 4 comments
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- 1505 reads
The fight for time
Harking back - looking forward
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- 11 comments
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- 2232 reads
Taking the salute
It could be worse
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- 1 comment
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- 522 reads
Between Tres Olivos and Santiago Bernabeu
People are very good natured.
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- 4 comments
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- 866 reads
Among friends
I feel more Spanish when I’m out. It’s a strange old business. Three and a half years. Brexit one year in. Ties in UK. Ties here. Responsibilities...
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- 13 comments
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- 7483 reads
For what it's worth
Poem? Maybe.
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- 3 comments
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- 740 reads
En la sombra del almendro
In the almond tree's shade
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- 5 comments
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- 983 reads
Incident at Till 2
I suppose I’m in a sensitive mood Maybe I was always sensitive That’s my problem, or one of them (Breaks out chocolate biscuits I ought to be working...
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- 5 comments
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- 1106 reads
Room change
Dragging my case around Purgatory
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- 304 reads
On the arbitrariness of life
In Los Molinos
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- 20 comments
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- 4422 reads
On waking up to a genial erection
Don’t panic!
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- 6 comments
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- 1188 reads
Under the pines and the power lines
Under the pines and power lines, I finally find a spot. The landscape comes straight out of romanticised images of García Lorca or Hemingway: rolling groves of Iberian pines and oaks casting their dappled shade over yellowing knolls where ants the size of perritos swarm over roots and along the grooves of cork-like bark, shiny black, red-abdomened, set to unknown errands. My spot has fewer ants, the smaller kind, minding their business deep within the weave of grass. I lay the towel, drop my books, unzip the gig-bag and pull out the guitar, Spanish one. I’d agonised, should I bring the Yamaha, dreadnought, Americano, narrow neck? Too big, too heavy for the Metro. Maybe damage it. In the hour before waking up I dreamt that the soundboard of the Spanish guitar was smashed in – two big gashes in the body. It had been an accident – the cleaner, not her fault. They were sad dreams, full of leaving. Trying to rinse the silt and muck from someone’s bathroom after showering my filthy self. Working out how I was going to get my stuff on a bicycle, to ride the hundreds of miles home and do it before dark. I tune the nylon strings as best I can – not used to nylon’s tendency to slip. The Spanish guitar is a looser instrument: the strings move more freely, need more space, are less likely to stay in tune than steel. Two years ago, I put it away. The neck too wide for my reach. My fingers slipping off position. I couldn’t get a sound out of it and zipped it into its gig-bag. “Don’t Think Twice”. Good tune to start with, and it’s been in my head all morning, haunting me down the broad slope of Gran Vía between Callao and Plaza de España, scene of Hemingway’s “Night Before Battle”. I set the waist of the guitar on my left thigh – classical-style – and play. Usual arthritic start. Normal. But I play on. There’s no one around. The road with its parked cars is way through the trees. Upper floors of flats are just visible behind me, beyond the power lines. Clusters of picnickers are lost among the folding contours. The neck is much easier than I remember: the reach, finger ends sitting squarely on the strings. In a few moments, I’m into the song and the fingers know their way. A mountain biker comes pumping along a sendero. He’s engrossed. Earphones in. A woman walking two dogs. Pauses to call the smaller one. When I look up again, she’s gone. I play “One Too Many Mornings”. Not feeling much like singing, I hum the melody. Groups of men sitting in the shade, talking, smoking, passing round a skin of wine, then the image is gone. I clip the capo on the neck – second fret. “Tangled Up In Blue”. My fingers have forgotten their prejudice. Capo on the second fret seems to flatter the guitar, or me, and the song rings out. I sing the seven verses from memory. It feels good. The stresses of the week have upped and left, though yesterday’s bender might have contributed. I rest the guitar across my crossed legs and lean back against the tree. This is when I wish I still smoked. A thin man comes walking along the sendero, tee shirt bagging, thick, curly black hair and beard giving him the appearance of a guru. He looks at me and smiles. Gives me a wave. I wave back. I wait for him to disappear among the trees, then play “Don’t Think Twice” again. This time with the capo. If I was ever going to audition, I’d use this song. I sing the lyric out. The playing’s fluent. No effort. It feels good. I’m not embarrassed. I take the capo off and tune the guitar. B and G strings have slipped. Low E, too. Four years in August. I can just about hold a conversation in Spanish. I bought some reading books for learners last week – Intermediate. Short stories and a biography of Che Guevara. Teaching-wise, I feel I can walk into any situation. We all have our own style and mine isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but horses for courses – when it works, it works. And guitar. I’m still only a strummer, but I remember sitting in Beale Street thinking I must have some kind of motor coordination problem. Not now. All those hours in the “garret” paying off. Seems I can swap between instruments no trouble. Swallows and swifts are screeching in the blue space above the trees. Magpies chatter in the lower branches. Two have been watching me. David and my dad. Turbofans whine in and out of Barajas. An excited commentary somewhere – there’s an amusement park through the trees near Batán, while over in the city centre, three Metro stops away, the San Isidro festival is gearing up. There’s never silence; but there is peace. Gentle peptic eruptions burn and I have to sit up. A loose medley of “Positively 4th Street”, “Blowing In The Wind”, “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue”. A breeze passes noiselessly through the pines. Two mountain bikers grind up the path – man and wife perhaps. He’s thirty metres ahead. I belch the acid. That’s better. One more song. “If You See Her, Say Hello”. Capo still on fret two. The key works for my limited range. I sing it to the pines and the power lines and ghosts that loiter in the shade. It feels alright. “...I know every scene by heart, They all went by so fast...”
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Snippets: Exhibit, Renta
Passing life
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- 9 comments
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- 1699 reads
Home is where...
More reflections than a glitter ball. One more for the road.
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- 2643 reads
Love is not an embarrassment
Pome
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- 317 reads
La erupcion - nothing is for keeps
erupción? As it sounds, more or less.
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- 406 reads
Can't you go any faster?
Imagined conversation.
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- 272 reads
Largesse
Adventures from a bus
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- 2 comments
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- 684 reads
Counting down
Here and now stuff - rough around the edges
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- 366 reads
Friday 19 July
God, it's hot.
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- 1 comment
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- 723 reads
Half past nine
Half past nine The local park’s lovely, mate Some folks with their dogs Others with their kids Some just sitting chatting One bloke lights the end of...
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- 865 reads
An Irish pub off Sol
Fighting the sedative effect of televised sport.
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- 261 reads
Another bar, another beer
Nodes of self-discovery
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- 280 reads
Caballero! More from the Drama Queen.
Do we care? Why should we?
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- 1075 reads
Feeding a prejudice
Same again, please.
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- 10 comments
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- 1605 reads
Senseless act
Here we go... Some things punch their way through.
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- 4 comments
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- 801 reads
Note left on a borrowed pillow
In lieu of roses
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- 352 reads
Riverine reflection
Mobile phone meanderings. Rough and almost ready.
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- 7 comments
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- 2319 reads
What happened?
[Pedalling]
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- 8 comments
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- 1834 reads
In the dark
A shaft of light between the boards
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- 5 comments
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- 928 reads
Across a crowded room
Familiarity and contempt
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- 287 reads
Friday afternoon
No one stops to look. It’s a Friday. Everybody’s busy, Thinking about the weekend. The wind’s blowing intermittent rain And it’s set to be like this...
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- 592 reads
Hyperreality
My eyes are drawn to the weathered bricks
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- 6 comments
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- 961 reads
Prevarication Saturday
Anything other than work
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- 4 comments
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- 928 reads
Peter speaks
I really ought to do some work
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- 300 reads
Bar room blues
Just pen to paper
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- 2 comments
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- 1320 reads
Tick, tock
Time ticking in a bar
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- 4 comments
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- 842 reads
Echo of '68
Sitting in a backroom Wake conversation surrounds Who’s dead? Picking at volumes Passages of this and that Can’t settle Pull out Ginsberg’s three...
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- 788 reads
By Lendal Bridge
After William Carlos Williams - Rimbaud/Solzhenitsyn, perhaps
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- 11 comments
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- 2368 reads
Running out of reading
As opposed to Running out of Reading
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- 346 reads
Observing
By the bridge again
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- 10 comments
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- 1679 reads
The only wheel in the cage
Good cheer
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- 4 comments
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- 886 reads
Friday the thirteenth
Trying to forget
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- 8 comments
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- 1763 reads
Catharsis
Scribbled words en route
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- 10 comments
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- 1824 reads
Good intentions
Apologies for the lack of craft
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- 4 comments
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- 834 reads
A collection of words
Scrapes and tumbles
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- 2 comments
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- 625 reads
Respite
So much value in such an unassuming word
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- 6 comments
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- 1196 reads
Solitude in public spaces
Underrated pleasures
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- 7 comments
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- 1515 reads
Imaginings at Tebay
Thanks to Roy Plomley, Kirsty Young and Anne Enright for the inspiration.
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- 9 comments
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- 1410 reads
Memory and sacred places
Is that you? Can't be.
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- 14 comments
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- 3419 reads
Being alive 2
Sunday 04:30
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- 2 comments
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- 500 reads
Being alive - Fish and chips
The compensations.
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- 3 comments
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- 684 reads
In praise of public space
Bucking a trend... long live the public library
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- 3 comments
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- 605 reads
Refuge
Wednesday afternoon doodle
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- 9 comments
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- 1520 reads
The beloved bicycle - 1
Shipped the mother out to day club and struck out on the beloved bicycle for the first time since the paranoiac crash disaster of five weeks ago. The...
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- 8 comments
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- 1198 reads
Portrait of a poet
IP: Tristan Tzara
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- 2 comments
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- 583 reads
Variations on a theme
Escape Committee Minutes
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- 4 comments
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- 745 reads
In a northern town
Life goes on and on
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- 5 comments
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- 917 reads
On cutting the grass
I found...
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- 17 comments
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- 2914 reads
The last
Inspired whilst reading Tony Harrison.
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- 301 reads
Taking my liberty
Daily exercise
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- 8 comments
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- 1392 reads
A prayer, maybe
This one's going out to God
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- 2 comments
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- 479 reads
Parapet of a stone bridge just the other side of Newton
Man and bike
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- 5 comments
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- 1061 reads
Summer has been switched off
Summer ha sido apagado
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- 4 comments
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- 681 reads
Whose garden?
Life of a naturalist
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- 7 comments
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- 1229 reads
Goodnight Maiduguri
Sleep tight
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- 7 comments
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- 1190 reads
El refugio Casa de Cristal – la paz y la meditación en el invernadero
Apologies for the Spanish. Pretentious? Perhaps. The glass house refuge – peace and meditation in the greenhouse.
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- 391 reads
Unpicking knots
Never a bad idea to read some Heaney when lost for words and inspiration.
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- 5 comments
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- 985 reads
Filling in time
History and all that crap. Turn off and walk away.
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- 7 comments
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- 1184 reads
Exposed roots
A life beyond one's ken
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- 10 comments
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- 1910 reads
A June afternoon
That's it. Back to the reading. Thanks.
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- 5 comments
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- 1116 reads
Rowntree's Park
Form experiment
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- 12 comments
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- 1659 reads
Geraniums
As long as there's a place
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- 10 comments
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- 1377 reads
Among the sparrows
Curiosity finds a niche.
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- 1391 reads
Caesura
Leaning on a windowsill somewhere
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- 6 comments
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- 2273 reads
From outside the frame
Solipsistic fun
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- 2 comments
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- 509 reads
The Spider
After what's his name
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- 4 comments
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- 811 reads
Goredale Scar
Nice day out
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- 4 comments
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- 855 reads
The Marquis
Filtered and matured - bit of a list
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- 2 comments
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- 525 reads
Random 1
WhatsApp moment to friends
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- 4 comments
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- 740 reads
Pandemics kill poets
... and Other Poems
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- 303 reads
October sun
From our correspondent
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- 2 comments
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- 480 reads
The Masterplan
The summary
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- 1 comment
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- 441 reads
At Bingley Three Rise
Pack up your troubles.
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- 2 comments
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- 472 reads
Airedale gig
Peace in the country
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- 5 comments
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- 692 reads
Tale of two Peters
Dear analyst, ...
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- 2 comments
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- 446 reads
The Virgin, the vivacious and the beautiful today …
Inspired by Stéphane Mallarmé
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- 2 comments
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- 507 reads
Everyone's a hero
Watching, dying, being superior
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- 7 comments
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- 1027 reads
Peace detail
Library coffee shop
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- 2 comments
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- 659 reads
Pen and ink
Long time, no see
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- 8 comments
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- 1340 reads
Two brothers
An experiment
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- 4 comments
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- 1162 reads
Comments
These could really catch on