Moths and Men - June 21 2002

I woke up specially at six am, my wife had said there was no way I
was getting up at 6am having gone to bed late last night, but I did.
Its 6.20am now. I went downstairs and into the kitchen to make myself a
coffee, when I saw this large moth in the kitchen. Immediately I opened
the window but the moth became iced at the activity and fell into the
washing up bowl. The moth tried to get out and for the first time I
overcame my fear of large insects and picked it up with my hand where
it sat gathering its wits about itself again. I stood there for a
while, the kettle had boiled, i had many things to do, but for the
moment I was standing there with the moth sitting on my hand. After a
while the moth gained confidence and crept off of my hand and onto this
envelope I had found which I positioned like a launch ramp for it to
fly off, but after its bath it wasn't going anywhere soon. I left it
clinging to the swizzle stick we use to make frothy milk then fed the
cats.

Last night in chat I read some great poetry, and after reading and
rating this poetry I wrote one of my own. I had been reminded of this
girl I used to buy the Big Issue off of. She was like a fixture in my
working work. Every Tuesday she would be standing there outside my
station in London, selling the magazine. I always tried to make sure I
had the right change, even to the point of sneaking out of the station
and along to a newsagent where I bought some ciggies and then had the
right change to buy the Big Issue. It was the one day in the week that
I had to have money on me. But. Now she's gone, and last night I lay
there in my bed (inside the covers this time as it was cooler) and got
quite upset as I remembered how cheerful she was and the sort of things
she used to say. (I have a ciggie and my eyes feel wet) I hope she is
all right, maybe she has gone to another pitch to sell Big Issue. So I
wrote my poem.

Big Brother took a back seat again. I heard that Spencer and Alex are
up for eviction, but didn't ask why. Is life moving along so that
things I did last week I don't do this week? Or do I like chat so much
I will spend a long time there, even if the room suddenly disappears
and I have to wait to get back in. Those of you who know what I mean
will know this.

I wrote my first proper review of a book I had read and posted it last
night. I am now posting into other forums as well as the General one
now. I think a review is better if you like the book so much you want
others to read it as well, or to read it the book again...

I read other diary entries on this board and I know sometimes we nod in
another member's direction. Thanks :)

I like good poetry. I am a fan of the Liverpool Beat poets although I
have mislaid my book. I must get it again. My poems such as they are
reflect some urge within me to communicate an idea a feeling or a
remembrance. They are not like stories but I try to write about things
that I feel strongly about or that have affected me personally. I know
others write about their experiences and these poems are warm and
occasionally shocking but still relevant. And I can identify with them
at times.

The Longhair has gone outside for his morning walk and patrol. My other
cat has had breakfast (which I never seem to have time for).

In less than a hour I will be watching England versus Brazil. I do not
know the outcome. I want England to win. All around the country we will
be waking up and tuning in. Even overseas and hoping that the match
will indeed be broadcast on the beeb....I took today off to watch the
match. It is Midsummers Day, a magical day, a day that falls only once
a year. Do something today that you will remember later on. Say hello
to someone. Cheer on England. Of Moths and Men.

I must check on the moth to see if its all right. Its gone, maybe its
wings have dried out now and its flown away.