Monthly Archives: February 2021

.the prediction.

i dislike the cold
have wrote if that before

though not to you

i wrote that I fear slipping

breaking the soft words

of my life

*

there is news from the village

some is good and all there is tidy

while some comes shocking and hard

to bear

james

fighting the predictions

18.999

numbers

they add some for emergency

dreaming nothing works

becomes seedy like rubber buttons

stitched on particular

wear

they come at us with knives

power houses

talking with tongues

with nowhere else to go

no one else to torment

i laugh at them talking in metaphors

yet I do the same

there are raindrops on the window

while I die

of laughing

.breakfast.

the news has changed

here

while one I don’t know
who is friends with one I do
has been vaccinated

mid wales

she is a carer and they say it is bad there

a backwater

for some reason it has come so in wales
hence more restrictions

messaged to see if all are ok with this
of course , came the reply
and offered me random oats

having a liking for porridge of a morning
with cream and syrup I accepted

nicely

sometimes I have toast

and sometimes insert one comma

.limited spaces.

:: limited spaces ::

what do we know of apartment

blocks with balconies

no where to play

sit quietly with the monkey

or whatever toy to sustain

and magnify

what do we know of merging paint

that frequents our mind

to describe

there was a gap in the railings where things fell through

we sat and watched it all

.friendship.

mention plagiarism

&

after research find it is

spelled so

to tell you it was just a friend
who did it often one way then

another

then they blocked me
nicely

permanently

so it goes

in a few words

james

16.hiding.

:: hiding ::

hiding could be the ultimate solution

some of us have adopted as per the guidelines

remember how you turned your back as a child

thought no one could see you

as you could not see them?

either that or go in disguise

a devil of an issue

.a still life.

now you know that the bird has died

and her wish was to preserve it somehow

that was yesterday

she had balanced it on a cotton reel, you know the old wooden ones with red thread.

this balancing thing

started years ago

in childhood, a game. later life a habit, a meditation.

she watched others, the artists balancing stones

copied , then balanced all sorts, soaps. boxes, anything really.

perhaps it is a control thing she supposed as she balanced the bird.

today

it stays easily. she looks a long time, takes her phone

and photographs.

looks, looks

adds objects.

photographs .

waits for dusk, for the light to change

lowers and photographs. a different app and repeat

another photograph.

skulls .

there are a lot of skulls down here in the studio. a few any way. she is prone to her own excitement and exaggeration.

bird skulls found, placed, kept, some  under glass domes.

her father had done that now she follows his lead.

she remembers the time he had placed a mouse corpse under a bell jar to see how that worked

he was dismayed at the decay and mildew; the stench when he lifted that jar.

his experiment a failure.

she feels it is a still life.

.the temporary fence.

was supposed to be an uneventful day

yesterday

guess it was to some standards

in these quiet days of isolation
combined with bad weather

was all a bit of a thing

moved the garden bags to their
collection point to find

the bags of slate delivered by the lane
so move the garden waste again to bring the

wheelbarrow up
to carry the slate to the bottom
and spread

two bags as spare in the store bins
lift and sweat
swear as we tip the fence over

to be fixed and reassembled
while the rain came in some more

later the groceries delivered
the man said quite a work out
as his baskets were emptied
hurriedly

i have a tiny chocolate each morning now

and got a card from the vicar

.snowdrops.

:: snowdrops ::

hold her up, you need to hold her up

stand each side of her

it is a challenge each day

to look at the images

remember

a challenge to deal with these things

some of us manage

to be vulnerable as naked

in private

some need holding up

in sight from my window

.line drawing.

:: line drawing ::

watched it twice those days when we could travel

see exhibitions

quiet slow and uneventful

it left lasting impressions

a simple drawing out

no fuss

and sometimes late in the evening

think of it

leave the house

and return to the simple line drawing