7 October 2014

pumpkin


full moon rises

i try to lift our

ridiculous pumpkin

 

after all this time, an intro


Recently, I found myself digging into this blog's archive, picking a month and seeing what I might find in there. This proved to be an uncomfortable experience. Much of it is not good. Some of it, it seems to me now, is bewilderingly terrible. Most of my life, I shredded, burned, or just threw away everything I wrote; I have always tended to erase myself as I go along. And so, as on a number a previous occasions, it took willpower not to press Delete on this blog, for ever.

The blog Beachcombing For The Landlocked, though, as I must keep telling myself, is not a showcase. It's not a glass-fronted, velvet-lined display cabinet. It is just a cardboard box. It's a place to put stuff for the time being - the shells, pebbles, sea glass, bits of driftwood and blue nylon rope, picked up from my walk along the shoreline of everyday life with the intention, maybe, of one day making something out of them. 

And so, if I do delve into the archive from time to time, it is just to fetch that box in from the shed, or down from the attic, and sift through it to let those bits and bobs remind me of particular moments and perhaps spark a new idea or two. Sometimes, when the sea's salt sheen has dried, you can't imagine what made you pick up that moment in the first place; but, on this occasion, I was able to use the fragments here to fashion several new ornamental tiny haibun.

The phrase Beachcombing For The Landlocked, however, sums up what has become a kind of personal philosophy. I really should get it put on a T-shirt. 
 

6 October 2014

i came. i saw. i played conkers


Sunlight scrawled on a stone wall. The glitter pen cursive of snail trails.

Each of my haiku says, simply, I was here.


old habits

i check their graffiti

for typos

 

24 September 2014

thread




 

equinox 1


which brings me

to my tax return . . .

autumn equinox

 

equinox 2


again she says

"to cut a long story short"

autumn equinox

 

half marathon


half marathon -

the spontaneous cheer

for Batman

 

red admiral




 

bookshelf


1.

as well as books plum gin in the process of


2.

as well as books the cast-off furry jumpsuit of a tarantula


3.

as well as books one hurricane lantern never used


4.

as well as books a mexican milk snake's earlier draft


5.

as well as books a puffin, wire & paper mache


6.

as well as books a planisphere the stars too small for me to read


7.

as well as books a lava lamp long time dormant


8.

as well as books a purple jug, sunflower & dahlias, colours fizzing like sherbet


 

dry leaves

 
dry leaves underfoot the crackle of distant fireworks 

   

in dark river water


in dark river water, shapes of things from the human world