Monthly Archives: July 2019

.bird at the window.

it is still. there is a bird at the window.
on making tea I saw one down at the pot of nuts. posing.
i am deleting capital letters

the amish man forgot then that the book was yours
not his to burn, with all the implications the burning

the awful memories

i hear they turn their backs

i have had backs turn this way
as painful as any knife stab
and the pain continues
more than the physical

i have looked at your area; like the look of it
the idea of it
as in a novel for i will never experience it.

that is for you, yet i love the stories
you bring

i was thrown sideways completely here yesterday
when warrior spoke of a friend and said

‘if she is dead’

seems it was a typo. i do not know her story
i only know i miss her terribly and in that it has
changed things

today, moving forward, i hope to travel to bala
to work
to savour the journeys back and forth
the travellers, the conversations

to work well in my way
to enjoy this day

things are real good this end
i hope the same for you

there is no wind
moving the trees

.ground coffee.

your words on coffee rattle my buds while drinking tea. mine later

today brings a dryer aspect, it rained most of yesterday that light refreshing stuff

i looked at the nest and they were staying inside

the day had an odd energy & i felt strung out by evening

listened to music & watched the rain

calls came and visits are cancelled today

so later here than regular, deciding things will change

i too will have like to live more remote

i will try secluded


i see the full moon is coming & all will be prepared

to hide or live face on

did he burn the book due to his beliefs do you think
or simply a nasty bloke

do you know that word?


i wonder it’s origins & whether it paints a picture of me
my upbringing
my culture

so we carry on
we carry on

this has been a daily thing
a pattern

all things change with time

enjoy this day
7.19 am
pink light


you were supposed to remind me.

i was out of the room & i remembered

by myself.

there are particular words

names and phrasing.

in town there is an rc church down the alley

with a statue of fatima.

i heard you coming looked up and saw the dark suit

black tie. you had studs on your heels for wear.

she had higher ones, rather large. it looked

difficult to walk.                           frayed feet.

then more came like beetles. i find no energy in


matt black.

on the bus.

there came a cloud of dust ahead.

slowing  the sweeper lorry


where the road is mended.

a sign warns us, there are no road



i fiddle with my earrings as we overtake.

turning into llanuwchllyn.

i wonder about the big house and admire

the vegetable gardens here.

llanuwchllyn. a village a community in gwynedd.

..the bone..

darker here this morning
or am i awake earlier?
top of the trees are moving
while traffic drives distant

a few lorries pass by here

lately there has been a small
plane each afternoon we
run out to see

how long have you guys lived
on tug hill ?

i found a super bone when
i visited ironworks last month

just laying in the grass while
the swallows swooped low

i kept it in the kitchen to see
lately have moved it to the home
studio here

yes i make installations with
wild bits as you may know
rarely using glue or permanent

i have used screws once and it was satisfactory
yesterday we made a working party & only just

we done good clearing two outbuildings
the skip was full and tidy while i found
treasures to bring home

i like the walk up over the hill
to hear the blood pounding
to know i am still alive

i liked the wood piles by the stile

i will send you a photograph

later i watched politics and
the man down the graveyard

i was tired then
saw a green light
felt dizzy and fell
to sleep

earlier i had read about
the four types of shame

6.24 am
with weather like this


slower morning here today. the radio plays.

dove grey overcast sky. heavy they say.

maybe rain?

all cooked out yesterday. i feel sad that the veg box contents may prove to much for me and there may be waste

i will compost if necessary or leave for small creatures

nice the bike thing worked, i remember stuff regarding brothers, bikes & cables resulting in greasy hands.

upside down bikes resting on saddle and handles

when i was a kid i was fascinated by one legged men cycling , the foot clamped to the pedal somehow

i had no idea. it was after the war
i had no idea. they stopped by a lamp post to get off, holding on

i had no idea

asters are garden flowers here and i never thought of them wild
until you said

my mother liked them and i am reminded

have pushed the window wide and see the back garden gone quite pretty

by chance most of the planting came varied shades of pink and all is long and wild

birds balance on the stems
birds eat the seeds i leave

i left the water heater on all night by forgetfulness
look forward to a deep bath

then later

walk over the hill to a friend who is clearing some stuff
i have permission to look in the skip and choose if i like

i hope
your day goes will

i have a wooden box for
little wings that came away


met her yesterday in a studio space. a possibility for me if I have to leave bala.

anyhow the point is I like her stuff and handy recipes. she makes string from nettles and now I know how.

he makes twiggy bits from briars, a tin lid with holes to deduct the thorns, and now I now how too.

emotional day yesterday. friday club fit in their new venue, only not physically. we used to

meet at the quarry cafe. it has closed so we go to celtica, light windowed with golden pillars.

made peace with cate

home to strim the grass and egg myself on with the promise of icecream

like miro, saw his stuff in barcelona in travelling days. mainly I stay in these countries, the union they call it. wales is talking of independence recently.

i am blown away by Anselm Keiffer a lot, a lot.

tea is lukewarm now, and the laptop battery is low. soap is important, i feel my mother made it so. we sniffed it on unwrapping and I was given the innner paper for drawing.

always pointed out the logo imprinted. fairy, breeze and posh days, lemon. lemon for gran at christmas. bromnley.I keep mine spares in a tin in the airing cupboard or the mice nibble.

lady on the bus told me her sister kept lots of soap and what did I think. I says she sounds like me.

we have lots of quarries here, mainly redundant or become tourist sites. zip world, bounce below, the deep mine.

deep mine, where they hung by chains to pick. where they sang at break, became the choirs.

family live at the base of the slate tip. gloddfa ganol, by llecwedd.

at mill again today. they say the prince of wales is visiting up the road soon, mallwyd. i do not care.

people swam the blue lake, a quarry hole. they left their rubbish and over years the farmer’s patience failed and he blocked the tunnel entrance.

.the men.

i do not remember them

any of them

gone when i arrived.

mr granny pussycats was gone, she soon after.

never knew my granny wigs and hers while

proper granny

lost hers after the cart fell on him and she became

a housekeeper of sorts.

mine left when i was four coming back to collect

the radio

i recall.

yours disappeared early and took no interest twice.

the men.