Author Archive

A night of deep reflection

Sunday, May 8th, 2011

That night a lone trumpeter climbed to the top of the castle walls and, facing outwards, sounded the last post. The mood around town was sombre. This was a night to focus the mind. People sat in pubs in their accustomed seats but the usual Saturday night banter was absent.

The notes from the trumpet brought everywhere to a dead silence. Walkers stopped walking, passing cars pulled in and, inside, juke boxes were turned off. As the music faded away everywhere remained still as folk contemplated what lay ahead…

The Blue Square Bet Premier league.

In Wray the pigeon is dead, long live the 30Meg symmetrical connection! #twicket

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011

In Wray the pigeon is dead,
Martyred on a loop of fibre,
His old and inefficient ways,
Killed off by Doyle of cyber.

The ways of farmfolk perceived:
Rustic whirr of disaffection,
Dawned now the age of Internet,
Enlightening connection!

Oh city boys this killer,
Was 30 Meg symmetrical,
An epitaph, in words of rhyme
This last post, poetical.

For @cyberdoyle

PUSHING BACK THE TIDE – ISLAND DUET

Monday, April 25th, 2011

Travelling hopefully

I was buried in the music,
old time stuff,
the same songs,
time again,
too loud,
random wanderings

the red sunset
added a touch of magic
to a seaborne pallet
totally calm
the island silhouette
unfamiliar, exotic

Sunday night and wide awake,
clear of mind, imagination fuelled

Arrived – day 1 – rocks at Peel castle

At the edge of the sea I sat, waiting, with expectations of the tide, almost full in. The soak of the bolder wave did not come.

Lands edge was final. There could be nowhere else, no other place, an ending.

I was completely alone though not companionless. My thoughts ran quiet amusements whilst around me the water swirled and pulsated; timeless beats of an incomprehensible song.

I asked no questions. There were no answers.

The Bird Feeder Episode 3

Friday, April 8th, 2011

The third in a series of exciting/mildly interesting/relaxing (delete as appropriate) videos showing birds feeding in our back garden. Action at around 4 minutes.

The Bird Feeder Episode 2

Friday, April 8th, 2011

The second in a series of relaxing videos showing birds feeding in our back garden. Action at 6 and 14 minutes.

The Bird Feeder

Thursday, April 7th, 2011

Take some time out, relax, and watch the bird feeder. Don’t expect huge activity but patience is rewarded.

The long slow death of an elderly elephant

Sunday, April 3rd, 2011

No time – work in progress

Tuesday, March 29th, 2011

No Time
I saw it, yesterday
a romantic, bloodshot, clearview eyeful
was good, strolling comfortably by,
fat bellies in life absorbing tall grass,
careless, laughter filled country lanes;
four seasons of mud, snow, pollen and dust
of footprints and wet feet,
open fires and steaming socks
open windows and breathless nights,
slow passing cow curious days,
of tireless church bells
and life and inevitably death

elusive, in my grasp, but then gone
A dwindling presence reduced to a dribble,
dried up torrent,

it’s here now
no time show time
stop time go time
live for the finger snapping moment
in a high speed shutter blink life time
no room for musty routine,
cobwebs of convention
blow open windows of change
rattle cupboard doors and
spill empty glasses of conformity

but no, time has gone,
I should have quit while I was ahead.

footsteps

Saturday, March 26th, 2011

Footsteps
Large decaff skinny latte please
Thank you
Cchhsshhwooosshh
2 65 please
Thank you
Sound of till opening and coins jangling
2 35 change
Thank you
There you go (hands over drink)
Spoons just at the end of the counter
Sound of footsteps walking out.

hypno

Wednesday, March 16th, 2011

London by night from the top of the BT Tower.

2nd poetical law of thermodynamics

Saturday, March 12th, 2011

The cosmos will die
A scientific certainty
I will die
The story of humanity
The ultimate question
A constant of futility
Temperature and pressure
Energy and entropy
Poetical expressions
Of irreversibility

The abandoned sandy shoe

Friday, March 4th, 2011

The abandoned sandy shoe
Tells it’s own story
Though I never learnt
The language of leather

Cast off, lost
Confusing choice with
Carelessness and
Calamity it was

Washed up
Washed out
Wearerless and
Without a partner

The abandoned sandy shoe

inspired by a funkypancake photo

The Peugeot of four oh six

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

The Peugeot is dead, long live the Nissan Micra

It wasn’t the scratches (multiple and in the same place) down its side

Or the hole where the drivers side lock used to be that wasn’t too much of a problem until the remote control central locking stopped working so you always had to open the car using the passenger side lock (ie the one remaining)

Nor was it specifically the fact that the petrol gauge only worked when flicked with a finger and ditto speedo and the rev counter (who needs a rev counter?!)

Fortunately, of the two it was the window water jet on the driver’s side that remained functioning

And I didn’t mind the fact that to unlock the petrol cap you had to lift the lever in the foot well with your toe whilst stretching back to unhitch the lid because the spring mechanism didn’t work

The nailed in place rear driver side window (an over enthusiastic passenger looking for a ride home from a party) was not an issue to me

and the fact that you couldn’t see what channel the radio was tuned to because the light didn’t work – this of course was a problem when we had to re enter the radio security code but couldn’t actually see what we were entering – the volume button had fallen off the radio anyway and it was a different light to the clock illuminator – no we couldn’t see the time at night.

No, seeing as you ask, the battle scarred veteran of gate post knocks and pay and display machine bumps suffered from not a scrap or scintilla of rust. The engine was in good order and would have comfortably added 50,000 miles to the 250,000 it had already travelled.

The gaffer tape holding the wing mirror in place was not a problem and the MOT inspector seemed unconcerned with the permanently flashing airbag light that was covered in black tape so as not to annoy the driver. 

In fact it was all of the above. The Peugeot 406, registration number N810NTL, colour dark blue had served its time.

We salute it, our faithful servant, “Tom’s car”, one we could happily leave overnight outside the pub and return to pick it up in the morning. A car I no longer bothered to lock much of the time. Who would take it?

The Peugeot was traded in for a £100 discount on a second hand Nissan Micra.

Our car now lies in a scrapyard, in what condition we know not. We shall not be making enquiries. We shall not be there at the end and our “Peugeot of four oh six” will finish its glorious days alone and friendless under the chilling shadow of the crusher.

It will not be forgotten, but the Peugeot is dead, long live the Nissan Micra.

Enoch Runsewe

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

Enoch Runsewe – train attendant
I met him once
on the train,
we spoke, briefly,
short, to the point,
I wanted something
he could supply,
in mere seconds,
I wouldn’t recognise him
without his badge
and I, without ID,
now sipping my tea,
remain anonymous, forever,
unremembered, by he.

picture the scene

reflections off the bank

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

wanlit lake, mists, frost, empty trees, swans, frozen sheep, county gate, footpath, bracken bronze copper, hurdle, reflections off the bank

winter, not always dull – beauty lies in its depth.