Paint me another red balloon please, Mr Banksy paint it with a longer string and tie it around my wrist so that it won’t escape from my little fingers and float into the sky to become a tiny dot that disappears forever; and please Mr Banksy don’t paint the wind, let it be still so that my hair doesn’t cover my eyes and my dress doesn’t flap around my knees and if the string becomes undone my new balloon won’t blow away. Continue reading Please, Mr Banksy
If I Were A Tree where would I spread my roots? where would I spend my seasons? where would my leaves shoot? In that field over there you know, the sloping one that the boy lays down in on summer days when the sun goes in and out, in and out and he makes creatures out of the clouds and sees crocodiles and dogs and wizards with pointy hats that turn into into wisps of cotton wool nothingness. Yes, that is the field the one you can see from your bedroom window the field that slopes down to the stream, … Continue reading If I Were A Tree
Another salty jaw rises, the gaping mouth widening as it arcs towards the ancient wall of Portland stone that snakes its way eastwards, a tumble of black granite boulders extending its protective reach. The jaw crashes down smashing onto the top of the sloping wall white teeth breaking onto centuries old rock that will not yield or sate the appetite of the ocean’s wild and relentless cavernous mouths that collapse into hissing torrents of saline saliva rolling back into the swelling anger readying itself to attack again and again. Continue reading The Cobb Wall at Lyme Regis
‘I done it,’ he called up the stairs. ‘I used four matches – all at once,’ he added. I zipped up and charged down, a deep bass drum pounded inside my chest, and there it was, in all of its flickering amber glory, growing, climbing the sooted chimney, before my white-soled sandal stomped its frightened authority on paper and kindling. As it crackled and spat, and fire clung to my scarred sole, extinguished only by a dance on the tiled hearth, and I asked, ‘What d’you do that for?’ And my little brother replied, ‘Coz you couldn’t do it with … Continue reading Four Matches
Walking the streets in the small country town I see memories in each pavement crack, all the fun and laughter the here ever after in the place I know as my only home town. I could have stayed but decided to leave memories of my own in the place that is my one and only home town. The river flows past my old country town I hear the ghosts as laughter floats by beneath the white bridge where we played in the sun beside the place I know as my only home town. I should have stayed I decided to … Continue reading My Only Home Town
Thinking, so overrated so tiring such a time wasting pastime. Contemplating, this life what comes after I can’t be deliberating not enough time to cogitate. Reasoning, no time for logic no time for order no time for thinking… or so I thought. Continue reading Thought
A world was built in violence, that became a creation of beauty, of peace to become a habitat for all living creatures. A home was built a sanctuary for coexisting, for loving each other not a place for hate. A sadness pervades much that has been built homes become squalid, destroyed sanctuary becomes a danger peace becomes war. But… we build again a home a sanctuary a peace loving world, and hope and pray that hate will become an extinct word of nightmares. Continue reading A Dream World?
Even his imperfections were perfect perfect imperfections made in such a way that the imperfections the… disfigurements, flaws, deformities were all perfect they blended, contrasted, merged to create a flawless whole. Imperfections that were incompatible opposed to life unsuited to the here and now not in accord with the there and then. The perfect imperfections took flight became what they could not be his journey was short but a perfect one became… eternal. March It was such a long time ago. The pain once felt is a thing of the past yet when I think about him, my special little … Continue reading A Perfect Imperfection
From Bristol to Brighton & Bach 