Monthly Archives: August 2014

reuben woolley

good name.

i often spell it worng,
ask him.

met on the station,
like a film, black and white.

kissed, discussed the world,
and poetry over coffee, in exhibition,
with fish n’ chips, recommended by
the locals, tasted like dripping, lovely.

visited an old house,i talked about
my old house, we discovered cures
for ghastly things with diagrams, all
spelled with ‘f’ s.

over tea, we turned black and
white again. decided,

any difference should make no difference,
the third word not allowed,
no more.

good name,
we are friends in colour.


negative image

. rules .

hard to keep rules,
where there are no rules.

hard to be a yard stick these days,
when others use meters.

found it exhausting, packing,
making the installations. it

is not hard, yet my mental
got exhausted.

i went to the party.



. packaging .

packing things in paper,
becomes the work, performance,
unpacked remains ditto
the effect.

sound, smoothing,
discovery of found mementos,
blood and rags.

will there be effect,shot_1405079322918[1]
or as a facebook posting,
to be slid over, looking
for weather and new

the paper is creased badly.


. the museum .

the name will be the title,
length an object.

all else is waxed and tied
as usual, making
it unusual. when i explained,
she asked why will you do

because of the chained libaries,
burning books, the secrets
you see? no, I don’t
she replied.

we worked on quietly



. montgomery .

in a fit of peak,
we decided, yes.

the soap in is the
bathroom, ann

as is the amputee
swimming doll

my gifts are still unpacked,
i did, then packed them
back again, to enjoy

the garden is in my mind,
as are al the other delights
we saw, ann.

me must go
back again.

thank you, ann.



. mallwyd .

St Tydecho with capital
letters, they say he came
from Cornwall here.

it was nice to sit quiet, watch
the shaking, the belief in all
those things.

good to hear the voice raised
at the back. he mends his pockets
of am evening, and talks gratefully
to all the family.

in Mallwyd.



. strong women .

they think, yet have
they googled bullying.

what is so wrong with
being kind and gentle
in approach.

we have found here
that softness works

to escape the dreadfulness
of life.

prevent wars, even small ones.



. lost .

looking for one verse,
write another. fnding books,
read some other story.

there are installations
waiting, while the season,
slowly changes.

i have heard the news, await
the weather forecast.

meanwhile music plays,
early morning.



. trust .

maybe it is so, the creams they advertise
will work, blot out the lines,
that came with life, the fun and laughter.

i disagreed, yet he trusts all that he is told.
the wonder years.

we fed the ducks at bala.




no news on sunday, asking why
am told that it was news all week,
there fore we need a rest one day.

moving on, i am engrossed in folding,
balancing, all those things i am
employed to do, some days.

the war may stop one day.