Category Archives: Aren’t words curious?

Missing in the Multiverse

We are multipresent in the multiverse,

always online, available as

avatar or bare-faced,

named or anonymed, at the

press of a key or a button

emailed, messaged, skyped, blogged to

so many it’s hard to know who you have

missed, why they might be

missing, whether you will be missed when

you go missing.

“Night and Silence”

The distant shudder of a helicopter

drifts away and I find myself amidst the

most perfect silence:

it is barely midnight and yet

every house is dark and blank and

even the motorway is void of vehicles.

 

Am I alone then in

relishing this absence of noise, this

empty pail waiting to be filled with

thoughts and doubts and

dark desires under the

stars and clouds?

What is Summer Worth?

The weather chases itself about the Earth.

People curse it, “what’s it worth

buying such gaudy summer stuff

to see it locked up in a shed,

bedecked with dust and fluff?”

 

Madonnas by Firelight

The warm Spring made us think of camping and the
boys built a big fire to keep
Spring’s heat alive into the night when some
berk with a Blackberry found it was
Beltane when it behoved us to dance
naked round the flames and we hooted and
laughed and shouted “NO!” but the
bottled beers and the craik
cracked our shells and clothes were shed with
whoops of embarrassed excitement and we
danced naked in the firelight, even
podgy Judy looked amazing with her
tits flying, our hair
whipping round our faces and the
sparks from the fire shooting up as our
boys revealed mens’ erections and
Spring ended up properly fertilised.

Cairn

Time began when we discovered death,

stopped leaving lost ones to be

stripped bare by nature on

barren savannahs but

hid them instead and began

wondering what became of them.

 

Did they remember where they were,

the dead? Count Moons between the

cycle of food sources? But where in a

bare landscape could a

scraped grave be marked but with a

stick or a stone.

 

Maybe on their travels some

special stone caught the eye, was

kept and carried, treasured, laid on that

suddenly recognized place which,

repeated year on year became the

cairn of all our religions.

Script

In the search for raw truth, all those

carefully chiselled words, all those

site-specific stage directions went

out the window to flutter like

confetti in an

empty churchyard.

An Easterly

The wind gets to you the way

other weathers won’t,

smiting your face with

unexpected blusters, the blows

turning your cheeks red,

chasing you round corners

as though each gust was

after you personally and

each grain of grit

aimed perfectly at the

centre of your eye.

Archipelago

We built our peninsula out from the

great landmass, laid foundations to

last a generation but

storms have eaten the earth,

washed struts out to sea, leaving an

archipelago on which each of us is left

stranded, dependant on social media or the

long journey over ever

deeper and more

dangerous seas.

Post-Post-Modernism, Anyone?

We are in deep shit now with Modernism, our

Academic knickers in a twist, the

gurning gurus of Eng.Lit. who speak

no English known to man or beast

a-gawp at Post-Modernism but quite

at a loss to name what might come next, their

grasp of English exhausted.

The Drearies

We must be wary of the Drearies

draining life of all fun because we

might dare to dance and laugh in the

face of all that suffering, our

immature expressions of pleasure met with a

glare and a sharp “Shush!”.

 

But within the laughter and dance lie

abyssals of want, longing, love, grief,

regret, desire, frustration, all

confused in that joy which can

one moment spring a smile and the

next spring tears.

 

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