Monthly Archives: April 2017


numbers came suddenly, soon after one. nothing added any more, all began to subtract, divide, the result algebraic there are no rulers, lines to divide, the total is irrelevant now, the addition foremost. i have been to the counting.

initially, crossed the sea to the land, from one to another, then, talking. crossed the narrow bridge spoke of the past, you know what i mean. courage to walk


a book about death. 14.



irregular, you came, your best clothes shining. never mind. the first tune hit the mind, patterns and mathematics. the kindness that is.

he said. machine you see. glass reflecting. slowly it starts repeating. the walls of differing colours. we have the dvds. on and on repeating on and on repeating on and on repeating.

back to the counting, how many have there been, how many are left still standing. an issue for some, yet we amend the figures here and move on. lucky ones, maths divides and decimates others.





. stitch. search.

we will not have blankets, if there are none, take the old rags, layer , stitch and stitch by hand till fingers bleed.

work is steady, absorbsion as if the outside world is ended. looking up find it has not. stitching can be rhythmic, and never mind the capitals. other words confound. birds beat the window.

the questions came that i cannot answer here or ever. did not count this time only the final one. noticed the first ones are now undone. the wrong knots.

maybe we need to check our numbers at the end to see if one or more are missing. ? we need to count them carefully, one side then the other?

work along the coast with thread and diligence. gather wools, layer carefully, we shall have warmth this winter.

eight thirty till five. it could have been easy, yet there were issues of the electronic kind meaning wasting time with wires and connections.

cover the surface. it takes time.



searching the thread

it is a new little ribbon, for you. i will tie here, yet not too tight. it has been a long time now. yes.

. a long, long time.

thread bare. nap worn the warp shows through. sounds sweet, none of this plush and sensuous stuff.

the dream, the shroud parted a while. visitors came, the day proceeded gently with stops and dictation, who is this? we worried over news, trembled a while, gathered back the warp, the weft. today we continue.

much of the time is spent with this or other things which pass the day nicely. linen hangs heavy, needles preserved. small holes ready.

it don’t work if not connected, if not tuned in, you would think the experts would know that. we need to signal to another.



searching for pins

they did not know she had millions, neither did she. just collected one item at a time, cared fully for each one of them. catalogued in eternally.

words affect us deeply. voices come and go. while the worlds spins with people’s chaos and confusion. yet. above the noise of the day they show me birds and insects did you know they cross their fragile legs?

did you find a pin there, did you pick it up and stick it? did you stay safe, wrap the shawl around and hold it close? did you see my life breaking, bring me pins for mending? …

stick in be safe , despite the pain and raddled cotton threads. to hold my life, hold the rusty hinges, prepare the coats of varnish again . remember your mother’s pins, my friend.

be well in your mending.

she asked what it is all about. just everyday things to look at, nothing to buy, like in a museum with strings and labels.



vivid (2=3)=vivid (5)





is nought.

there is nothing found.

yet algebra and geometry are used

to build the castle. this is vivid.

this is maths.


birds sing

she talked rapidly

about family,

history, opera, poetry.

i idled,

listened a bit,

eyed her clothes.

wished i dressed liked that,

treat myself,

et cetera.


she told me


her uncle,

in war painted

white crosses on men who deserted.

an aim for those

who shot them.

she said,

he was never the same after.



magna carta

is left behind with tiny writing. salisbury cathedral.

the back way. written in latin for those who matter.

those words and those words

an historian uttered sent me reeling outside.

where air is cleaner.

oh , by the way

left you both there too. were you trying to appease

the barons?




win or lose. hedge your edge.

write of parlay. slowly ending bet.

forbidden child! drift into another.

world. tabbed.

dice or other games.

no one wins…..