28 July 2016

P.S.


Well, that's me up to date. But, as you've probably noticed, I've been running on empty for a while now, physically & mentally exhausted from work & world events and, to be honest, I've sort of had enough. All these years, I've written straight onto Twitter, like a notebook, and then rewritten and saved the ones that seemed to work, to this blog; but - and maybe it's because I'm so tired - I just don't think I want to do this any more. I'm fed up with all my stuff sounding the same; I feel awkward writing such trivial things when the world is going the way it is; and I've simply fallen out of love with Twitter. I just can't be doing with all that ... noise. So, something has to change, I just don't know what, or how; which means, of course, that I don't know if, or when, either. I expect things'll sort themselves out. In the meantime, thank you for reading here, and thanks for putting up with me over in the other place. Nothing dramatic, let's just say I'm Closed for Stock-Taking. 
   

graffiti


weathered graffiti

all my haiku ever says is

"i was here"

 

my exhaustion


my exhaustion

a neighbourhood dog

that won't

stop barking

 

my place in


lying back in the long grass

closing my eyes . . .

my place in

the soundscape

 

cloud mountains


cloud mountains

sidle up to the edge

of town while

we're not looking

 

earphones


something in her

white earphones is

making her smile

 

sun glint


leaving it's sun glint

where i found it a coin

in the gravel

 

ants


the heat. the bricks

spill sand and a frenzy

of winged ants

 

stick


another full moon

rattling a stick along

the railings

 

eggs


under the brick a thousand white eggs of unrest

 

pink geraniums


pink geraniums

the window box both blocks

and is the view

 

muggy


it's a muggy day & she's gathering bean pods in her skirt

 

feathery


through a wine glass

the swaying of

feathery grass heads

 

sycamore keys


under the sycamore

keys dangling

from the shed door

 

slates


slates dark

rain splashing up

from the sill

 

swell


between downpours

orchestral swell through

a half open window

 

6 July 2016