An intermittent conservation
Two ladies
Somewhat aged
In a market café
Beans on toast for two
Quiet words
One admonishing
Omitted words
The younger
The café is almost empty
Tables wiped
Chairs all neat
Waiting to close
On this tranquil late afternoon
One hums a song
The younger
The other scowls
In disapproval
Thursday, 31 May 2012
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
The Ire of Language
The indignation is within me
Screaming to exit
Manacled in anger
Devoid of convention
Desirous of expression
Often it's jubilant
Untamed and untameable
Screaming freedom
Often long dry muteness
Devoid and frustrating
Most often smothered
Avoiding life entirely
The sleeping quiescence
Always awaiting ignition, conflagration
As if swimming in some tepid void
Desiring vengeance, desiring escapement
Then, then, as if…
A torrent of expectation
Comes spewing forth
And alongside all
Redress
Disappointment
Screaming to exit
Manacled in anger
Devoid of convention
Desirous of expression
Often it's jubilant
Untamed and untameable
Screaming freedom
Often long dry muteness
Devoid and frustrating
Most often smothered
Avoiding life entirely
The sleeping quiescence
Always awaiting ignition, conflagration
As if swimming in some tepid void
Desiring vengeance, desiring escapement
Then, then, as if…
A torrent of expectation
Comes spewing forth
And alongside all
Redress
Disappointment
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
An Image of Salutation
What's the illusion we should create
On this monumental day
This milestone of old age
Possibly a swooping sparrowhawk
Darting through the woodland
Chasing, swooping, pouncing
On its next meal
Or is it the fleeing chaffinch
Hiding in a thorny bush
Watching, waiting, frightened
Singing a monotonous warning
On this monumental day
This milestone of old age
Possibly a swooping sparrowhawk
Darting through the woodland
Chasing, swooping, pouncing
On its next meal
Or is it the fleeing chaffinch
Hiding in a thorny bush
Watching, waiting, frightened
Singing a monotonous warning
Monday, 28 May 2012
The Scrolls
Fifty-six scrolls heaped high
There may well be more to come
Sometime, maybe
The text is nearly complete
These scratched out fragments of my existence
All awaiting obscurity
These are scrolls of myriad days
Days of anguish and little joy
Dreams of walking hand in hand
Days of misty pictures and childhood fears
Dreams of the first sight of that lovely girl
Your welcome to delve among them
To read, to weep, to cry
Just clean up afterwards
And don't look back
There may well be more to come
Sometime, maybe
The text is nearly complete
These scratched out fragments of my existence
All awaiting obscurity
These are scrolls of myriad days
Days of anguish and little joy
Dreams of walking hand in hand
Days of misty pictures and childhood fears
Dreams of the first sight of that lovely girl
Your welcome to delve among them
To read, to weep, to cry
Just clean up afterwards
And don't look back
Thursday, 24 May 2012
White Van and Blue Vision
A little before nine in the evening
The end to a mild day
With dull clouds overhead
A quiet street
All neat terraced houses
And disorderly parked cars
Nine o'clock in the evening
Along comes a white shabby van
A mobile shop
Its discordant horn
All violence and hatred
Disturbing the stillness
Its waits expectantly
Just after nine in the evening
The front door opens of the house opposite
Out steps a young woman
With short blonde hair
Dressed in light blue pyjamas
And a powder blue dressing gown
She strides across to the van
Climbs the steps
Her thin frame disappears
Five minutes later
She reappears again
She's clasping something small
Possibly chocolate
She strides back across the road
And her front door quickly closes
A little after nine in the evening
Would it not be perfect
In the still and the quiet
To be in the same room as her
Nothing more, just the same room
Would it not be perfect
The end to a mild day
With dull clouds overhead
A quiet street
All neat terraced houses
And disorderly parked cars
Nine o'clock in the evening
Along comes a white shabby van
A mobile shop
Its discordant horn
All violence and hatred
Disturbing the stillness
Its waits expectantly
Just after nine in the evening
The front door opens of the house opposite
Out steps a young woman
With short blonde hair
Dressed in light blue pyjamas
And a powder blue dressing gown
She strides across to the van
Climbs the steps
Her thin frame disappears
Five minutes later
She reappears again
She's clasping something small
Possibly chocolate
She strides back across the road
And her front door quickly closes
A little after nine in the evening
Would it not be perfect
In the still and the quiet
To be in the same room as her
Nothing more, just the same room
Would it not be perfect
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
Monday, 21 May 2012
Daybreak
Mist covers the valley
Masking distant council houses.
Streets, quiet, empty.
The lingering grey
Slowly, so slowly, brighting.
Promising dampness.
Masking distant council houses.
Streets, quiet, empty.
The lingering grey
Slowly, so slowly, brighting.
Promising dampness.
Sunday, 20 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 35 – Exaltation
The purple spirit of life
dances with joy on green
entwining in their sweetness
The white struggling free
hidden beneath the blue
and throbbing in its new found vision
Clasping, grabbing, stroking
they mix and match
pure rhythmic existence, pure exhilaration
dances with joy on green
entwining in their sweetness
The white struggling free
hidden beneath the blue
and throbbing in its new found vision
Clasping, grabbing, stroking
they mix and match
pure rhythmic existence, pure exhilaration
Saturday, 19 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 34 – Straight Mystery
White crinkly lines
all enigma
all puckered petals
White folds falling apart in smoothness
so sleek
so sensuous
Back bands of treasure
still to reveal
still tantalising
A yellow comfortable smile
now above
now encouraging
all enigma
all puckered petals
White folds falling apart in smoothness
so sleek
so sensuous
Back bands of treasure
still to reveal
still tantalising
A yellow comfortable smile
now above
now encouraging
Tuesday, 15 May 2012
Pensive
The world, closing in.
Pensive, fraught, that's what she felt.
And then, maybe... nothing...
Pensive, fraught, that's what she felt.
And then, maybe... nothing...
Monday, 14 May 2012
Morning Haiku
This morning Haiku
Started hopeful, expansive
Then ran completely, totally out of control
Started hopeful, expansive
Then ran completely, totally out of control
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Phantasy
Let me get this straight,
See if I understand it,
You were nice to me.
Let me get this straight,
See…
Thank you.
See if I understand it,
You were nice to me.
Let me get this straight,
See…
Thank you.
Wednesday, 9 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 33 – Encircling
The red unfurls
spreading its warmth
another day, another joy
and enveloping the environ
in its happiness
The chequered grey
with tempting sweet ringlets
and beige stems
stroking, smiling
in expectancy
The joyous trepidation
shocking in its intimacy
all silver droplets of joy
radiant in its curious touch
coaxing a new found familiarity
spreading its warmth
another day, another joy
and enveloping the environ
in its happiness
The chequered grey
with tempting sweet ringlets
and beige stems
stroking, smiling
in expectancy
The joyous trepidation
shocking in its intimacy
all silver droplets of joy
radiant in its curious touch
coaxing a new found familiarity
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 32 – Shadows
Yellow dapples across the pale earth
swimming quickly across and out of sight
A warm shower has just abated
refreshing in its exultation
Glistening in its moistness
the earth sparkles in the sunlight
all effervescent precious metals
all rarefied gem stones
and the more cherished for being so fleeting
swimming quickly across and out of sight
A warm shower has just abated
refreshing in its exultation
Glistening in its moistness
the earth sparkles in the sunlight
all effervescent precious metals
all rarefied gem stones
and the more cherished for being so fleeting
Monday, 7 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 31 – Nighttime
Luminous orange stars
smooth and sleepy
hidden beneath a soft white mist
A silver star
it's outline glowing
high above the rest
A pink flower
reaches out
desperate to caress
And stretches into the starlight
smooth and sleepy
hidden beneath a soft white mist
A silver star
it's outline glowing
high above the rest
A pink flower
reaches out
desperate to caress
And stretches into the starlight
Sunday, 6 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 30 – Growth
Flowers dripping
with the sweet fragrance of joyousness
white and pink speckles
against the dark earth undertones
Flowers yearning
petals glowing, attracting
glittering in the brightening sun
spreading to absorb the rays
Flowers thrusting
rough crimson leafs unfolding
forcing their way through
powerful and implacable
Flowers overflowing
seeds bursting out
pushing, digging into the ground
waiting for a new day
with the sweet fragrance of joyousness
white and pink speckles
against the dark earth undertones
Flowers yearning
petals glowing, attracting
glittering in the brightening sun
spreading to absorb the rays
Flowers thrusting
rough crimson leafs unfolding
forcing their way through
powerful and implacable
Flowers overflowing
seeds bursting out
pushing, digging into the ground
waiting for a new day
Saturday, 5 May 2012
Film Review – The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Disappointing that's what it is.
There was a book, a brilliant book, called The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and written by Stieg Larsson. Then there were some films made in 2009, Swedish films and in Swedish, based upon the book, they were pretty good. Maybe not classics but watchable, at least if you were a fan of the book.
Then there comes the new 2011 American film directed by David Fincher. What can we say about that?
In a word: disappointing.
The overwhelming feeling of this film is its perpetual drabness. The look, the scenery, the acting, the music, it's all nauseatingly drab. One drab scene is heaped upon another and more drabness added until your just sick of the… well… sick of the drabness. The main characters are drab and unconvincing. And the camera work, well its just sickeningly drab. The whole film looks as if it was shot in a disused Russian Gulag and has about as much sex appeal.
I wonder if the film makers have ever visited Sweden, or indeed Europe for that matter. I suppose they must have but there's no evidence of this in the film; none whatsoever. It looks like they have shot this film in a mud hut as you get no idea of the expanse or beauty of Sweden or the majesty of cold weather. Instead we have a perpetual feeling of claustrophobia. Hence this film starts off missing an essential backdrop to the narrative.
Noomi Rapace in the 2009 Swedish version was a believable Salander. Maybe not quite as I imagined this marvellous character after reading the book but plausible. In this film the part is played by Rooney Mara who is just dull, in fact there's not more to her acting then dullness, apart, that is, from long tiresome multitudes of drabness.
In the 2009 Swedish version Michael Nyqvist was an acceptable Mikael Blomkvist; well, just about. Whereas here Daniel Craig shows all the acting ability of a yawn and is just about as engaging. (I'm led to believe, or I assume, Mr Craig has some sort of reputation. Maybe he has, I'm not an expert on trashy celebrity hype, nor do I want to be, it's a subject that's totally uninteresting, and on the basis of this film a subject I'm really not bothered about exploring.)
Then there's the more minor characters who we'd better not say anything about; they prove even more disappointing – there's more excitement in a 50p tin of spaghetti.
Disappointing that's what it is, and I did so want to like this film.
There was a book, a brilliant book, called The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and written by Stieg Larsson. Then there were some films made in 2009, Swedish films and in Swedish, based upon the book, they were pretty good. Maybe not classics but watchable, at least if you were a fan of the book.
Then there comes the new 2011 American film directed by David Fincher. What can we say about that?
In a word: disappointing.
The overwhelming feeling of this film is its perpetual drabness. The look, the scenery, the acting, the music, it's all nauseatingly drab. One drab scene is heaped upon another and more drabness added until your just sick of the… well… sick of the drabness. The main characters are drab and unconvincing. And the camera work, well its just sickeningly drab. The whole film looks as if it was shot in a disused Russian Gulag and has about as much sex appeal.
I wonder if the film makers have ever visited Sweden, or indeed Europe for that matter. I suppose they must have but there's no evidence of this in the film; none whatsoever. It looks like they have shot this film in a mud hut as you get no idea of the expanse or beauty of Sweden or the majesty of cold weather. Instead we have a perpetual feeling of claustrophobia. Hence this film starts off missing an essential backdrop to the narrative.
Noomi Rapace in the 2009 Swedish version was a believable Salander. Maybe not quite as I imagined this marvellous character after reading the book but plausible. In this film the part is played by Rooney Mara who is just dull, in fact there's not more to her acting then dullness, apart, that is, from long tiresome multitudes of drabness.
In the 2009 Swedish version Michael Nyqvist was an acceptable Mikael Blomkvist; well, just about. Whereas here Daniel Craig shows all the acting ability of a yawn and is just about as engaging. (I'm led to believe, or I assume, Mr Craig has some sort of reputation. Maybe he has, I'm not an expert on trashy celebrity hype, nor do I want to be, it's a subject that's totally uninteresting, and on the basis of this film a subject I'm really not bothered about exploring.)
Then there's the more minor characters who we'd better not say anything about; they prove even more disappointing – there's more excitement in a 50p tin of spaghetti.
Disappointing that's what it is, and I did so want to like this film.
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 29 – A Breeze
Dancing, dancing, dancing
branches swaying in the wind
all lithe, subtle and fresh
Twisting, twisting, twisting
the black trunk bending
to the flowing sky
Twirling, twirling, twirling
the topmost leaves fluttering
in a subtle joy
Singing, singing, singing
each pure round bud
a dimpled oval beam of freshness
Smiling, smiling, smiling
watching the lean grace
the slender, the beautiful
branches swaying in the wind
all lithe, subtle and fresh
Twisting, twisting, twisting
the black trunk bending
to the flowing sky
Twirling, twirling, twirling
the topmost leaves fluttering
in a subtle joy
Singing, singing, singing
each pure round bud
a dimpled oval beam of freshness
Smiling, smiling, smiling
watching the lean grace
the slender, the beautiful
Friday, 4 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 28 – Lightening Storm
An orange streak flashes
all light and energy
pushing, pulling, twisting
unwelcome in the night
A tree absorbs the onslaught
all translucent burning black
spitting, coughing, splitting
conduit to the fire
all light and energy
pushing, pulling, twisting
unwelcome in the night
A tree absorbs the onslaught
all translucent burning black
spitting, coughing, splitting
conduit to the fire
Thursday, 3 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 27 – A Dance of Blue and Yellow
The yellow, the yellow
singing beneath the black
all chequered and lively
The blue, the glorious blue
dancing, so energetic
revealing a hidden white
They join, intermingle
fleeting, laughing
a snapshot for a day
They chant, they sing
a divine chorale
an angelic cadence
singing beneath the black
all chequered and lively
The blue, the glorious blue
dancing, so energetic
revealing a hidden white
They join, intermingle
fleeting, laughing
a snapshot for a day
They chant, they sing
a divine chorale
an angelic cadence
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 26 – Joyful Flow
A stream
falling, descending
sweet to drink
Its clear waters
rapid, still
filling languid pools
Rivulets joining
shallow, refreshing
occasional stormy trickles
Banks cut deep
sharp, muddy
with damp moist rocks
Willows overhanging
shady, cool
dipping in the flow
Teaming with joyful life
drinking, consuming
an experience to behold
falling, descending
sweet to drink
Its clear waters
rapid, still
filling languid pools
Rivulets joining
shallow, refreshing
occasional stormy trickles
Banks cut deep
sharp, muddy
with damp moist rocks
Willows overhanging
shady, cool
dipping in the flow
Teaming with joyful life
drinking, consuming
an experience to behold
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
Reveries of an Imaginary Landscape No. 25 – Springtime Frost
White, cast in white
so sleek
so distant
so far as the eye can see
A sleepy ecstasy
all potential
all passion
all entwined with the earth
White tempting lines
slowly rocking
slowly cracking
slowly shifting
Entranced in desire
now joy
now arousal
now dripping with rapture
And the pure joy of melting
to a fresh vibrant blackness
of slush and new life
What a sight
dishevelled
shining
anew
so sleek
so distant
so far as the eye can see
A sleepy ecstasy
all potential
all passion
all entwined with the earth
White tempting lines
slowly rocking
slowly cracking
slowly shifting
Entranced in desire
now joy
now arousal
now dripping with rapture
And the pure joy of melting
to a fresh vibrant blackness
of slush and new life
What a sight
dishevelled
shining
anew
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