Monthly Archives: December 2016

solid cream

get a cold, lose your appetite for cream. live on marmalade

with toast. the cat gets the cream till full, resplendent on the

radiator. the cream goes solid, the need to recycle comes clear.

yet

all we can do for the best is throw it down the toilet.

sbm.

little houses

first seen in ellesmere with period characters we felt may be best removed.

lucky to have one on my birthday with lights from a battery quite reasonably

priced.

visiting town and gallery see them there are quite a lot. more money as craft.

seems little houses are fashionable now.

as are pugs.

sbm.

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how to recognise holiday makers and other creatures

why will i want to or think of it

at all. in lower case.

aren’t we all complementary,

designed with different features

and ramblings, not pausing for

breath.

we live in the country ; know that

all are different, enjoy a good time

overall.

pause.

aren’t we all in this together, a

question with gritted teeth

eventualities and commas.

do not worry over things. said this

before.

all together.

the difference could make no difference.

classified.

mostyn

making the work about making the work.

knowing the cylinders are empty, you

had asked if i have heard of instagram. a relic of

how we judge by appearance. i told you that

i had an old box brownie, a clue to confuse.

it is good to talk about work that is about making

the work.

they like my badge. at mostyn.

sbm..

shot_1353669764300

spider

a spidering across my face, that mooned mirrored moment.

raising from sleep dreamed , dashed my hand to move it,

sadly this morning find the remains stain, detritus with remorse.

radio news says the evacuation from aleppo is delayed.

history repeats itself.

spider.

sbm.

imag2540

no cloud

i came trembling. looked for the cloud

from those years ago. hidden

in mist, a white wall . no birds

sang.

we are as nothing.

in this place.

sbm.

111

10.12

i do not have an
advent calendar.

it is a season
of dark.religion
waiting.

it may be
time to regrade

christmas.

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thursday

i have not written much about advent, just two things.

yet i know it is here, felt in bones; my soul. i

have no system now to believe things, yet

the reminder comes without warning. each

year.

this year

to my own suprise, i find that i still can cry. it

is a long time passed. they say our work , our souls

are in our chest.

it is not just me

it is family.

there is no photograph.

sbm.

notes on drowning

to explain to you who cannot see,

the cloy, the quantity of water, tasks, and other

hurts, that fit into a day. the moment

your feet slide into mud, with one word.

heard , read, imagined, the sentence dives and plays

whole, yet as days move on, flotation occurs,

buoys, slowly we face back to sea , swim on.

either that or drown.

sbm.