A suggestion

29th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My picture: an early morning poem…I was very tired 🙂

I talked with a friend tonight, it was late

She told me I was different,

that I cared about China.

So I told her. …..

“I just want to write… just well enough
to make an end”

Gloria

28th May 201928th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My picture

Another bus journey to work,

Vivaldi in my ears.

Stretching long on the dewy ground,

reflecting the early morning peace.

A ‘D’ major moment,

of forgotten swings and daffodils

already wilting in the spring heat.

Humanity’s pride obscures a lost horizon

……as the cold drape of darkness

awaits journeys end.

And heralds the new army of the day.

Me and Bob Dylan, again

26th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

hdrpl

First picture: http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/bob-dylan-artwork-go-view-217297 Second picture : my drawing

Sometimes I dream of sunshine,
but not often.

Last night Bob Dylan appeared,
riding on soft marshmallow clouds…..
a contrived visual modality.

“Bob Dylan? What are you doing here” said I.

As the night unfolded….. there was a quest to write and dream.

And as the clouds left
Bob told me

“You know… this world is ours, all of ours…
but is run by people who never listen to music, anyway”

With that the dream drifted away,
like a bottle on a journey.
So empty to be.

Catching the sun

25th May 201925th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture.

Bodies drawn to light

I went to catch the sun

Half open by wind

It knows my pain

It knows my hopes

Too dark for sunrise

When darkness falls

24th May 201924th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

hdrpl

My Pictures

A hazy moon and tired out.
My friend told me today,
she may lose her business.
Yes, not even a speck of dust.

Darkness fell,
a touch of spring crisis.
Chameleons grooming themselves,
to feast between the stones.

I told her
“Soon in the future…
is a sun rising
…. for me to visit again.”

Understanding pain

23rd May 2019 / Rugby Lion / 1 Comment

My pictures…and my students words…

I talked to the students about pain today,
it was one of those days.
My pain for you and the world,
a sweet singing and a tainted image.
What is means to be truly human.

If time was replayed
I would give more heart, your way.
And through the winters fog and mists,
slow down… breathe deeply and see the whole world… right here.

Some students gave me words,
for me a new delight.

The dark thoughts, the shame and guilt,
that swarm like bees from time- to-time
….. now traded with caution.

Then life can move forward,
never stepping back from fear.
And ghosts do not haunt me, for now.

6:20 am

22nd May 201922nd May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

hdrpl

First Picture: http://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/07/arts/music/steve-reich-music-for-ensemble-and-orchestra.html….

Second picture….my drawing.

A Steve Reich morning, already.
Loop after loop, running fast.
Forms and shapes singled out.

Harmonic density
and overlapping asymmetries,
a loneliness of souls.

An orange billed magpie,
swoops from the sky in sheer foolishness.
Changing form to catch the morning sun.

Old Farmer

21st May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

hdrpl

My drawings

Close the gate, your worries are over.
Put away your tools and sleep in peace.
But the labour is never done, always must you work.
Season’s bright magic calls you out to play.

Oats and peas – look sparse to me.
And the peaches, no less delicious
not ready yet to disgorge their load
We’re all weed-hungry.

Bricks of the heart

20th May 201920th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

My Picture: Taken yesterday

Sometimes boredom strikes the mind,
the brick foundations crumble
moment-by- moment.
Even the molecule you gave me, the last time…..
makes me numb.

Then I go back to Bukowski or Dickinson,
who know about journeys of the mind.
And how to hang on
to threads of hope, to reach time and space.

Then peace descends,
I’m fine.

Spring feeling

19th May 201919th May 2019 / Rugby Lion / Leave a comment

A day in the Chinese countryside with some friends….very beautiful and mindful.

That spring feeling and trudge around,
still hunts me after all these years.
I found myself in the flowers
wishing you were here,
enjoying the cool of the evening
….. one more time.

And the thickets are for the small moments, and the first visiting Chinese
beautiful rosefinch
….. the scent is already in the air.

From those endless dry winters,
and the final parting.
A little wild cherry tree,
and the deep smell of rose blossom
….. pushes back the sadness.

And as the bush warbler sings,
I remember those days…. worn out with love and sensuous kisses
All site lost of the throbbing pain and
swollen cheeks… soon to come.

I talked with a friend tonight, it was late

She told me I was different,

that I cared about China.

So I told her. …..

“I just want to write… just well enough to make an end”

Another bus journey to work,

Vivaldi in my ears.

Stretching long on the dewy ground,

reflecting the early morning peace.

A ‘D’ major moment,

of forgotten swings and daffodils

already wilting in the spring heat.

Humanity’s pride obscures a lost horizon

……as the cold drape of darkness

awaits journeys end.

And heralds the new army of the day.

Sometimes I dream of sunshine, but not often.

Last night Bob Dylan appeared, riding on soft marshmallow clouds….. a contrived visual modality.

“Bob Dylan? What are you doing here” said I.

As the night unfolded….. there was a quest to write and dream.

And as the clouds left Bob told me

“You know… this world is ours, all of ours… but is run by people who never listen to music, anyway”

With that the dream drifted away, like a bottle on a journey. So empty to be.

Bodies drawn to light

I went to catch the sun

Half open by wind

It knows my pain

It knows my hopes

Too dark for sunrise

A hazy moon and tired out. My friend told me today, she may lose her business. Yes, not even a speck of dust.

Darkness fell, a touch of spring crisis. Chameleons grooming themselves, to feast between the stones.

I told her “Soon in the future… is a sun rising …. for me to visit again.”

I talked to the students about pain today, it was one of those days. My pain for you and the world, a sweet singing and a tainted image. What is means to be truly human.

If time was replayed I would give more heart, your way. And through the winters fog and mists, slow down… breathe deeply and see the whole world… right here.

Some students gave me words, for me a new delight.

The dark thoughts, the shame and guilt, that swarm like bees from time- to-time ….. now traded with caution.

Then life can move forward, never stepping back from fear. And ghosts do not haunt me, for now.

A Steve Reich morning, already. Loop after loop, running fast. Forms and shapes singled out.

Harmonic density and overlapping asymmetries, a loneliness of souls.

An orange billed magpie, swoops from the sky in sheer foolishness. Changing form to catch the morning sun.

Close the gate, your worries are over. Put away your tools and sleep in peace. But the labour is never done, always must you work. Season’s bright magic calls you out to play.

Oats and peas – look sparse to me. And the peaches, no less delicious not ready yet to disgorge their load We’re all weed-hungry.

Sometimes boredom strikes the mind, the brick foundations crumble moment-by- moment. Even the molecule you gave me, the last time….. makes me numb.

Then I go back to Bukowski or Dickinson, who know about journeys of the mind. And how to hang on to threads of hope, to reach time and space.

Then peace descends, I’m fine.

That spring feeling and trudge around, still hunts me after all these years. I found myself in the flowers wishing you were here, enjoying the cool of the evening ….. one more time.

And the thickets are for the small moments, and the first visiting Chinese beautiful rosefinch ….. the scent is already in the air.

From those endless dry winters, and the final parting. A little wild cherry tree, and the deep smell of rose blossom ….. pushes back the sadness.

And as the bush warbler sings, I remember those days…. worn out with love and sensuous kisses All site lost of the throbbing pain and swollen cheeks… soon to come.

“I just want to write… just well enough
to make an end”

Sometimes I dream of sunshine,
but not often.

Last night Bob Dylan appeared,
riding on soft marshmallow clouds…..
a contrived visual modality.

And as the clouds left
Bob told me

“You know… this world is ours, all of ours…
but is run by people who never listen to music, anyway”

With that the dream drifted away,
like a bottle on a journey.
So empty to be.

A hazy moon and tired out.
My friend told me today,
she may lose her business.
Yes, not even a speck of dust.

Darkness fell,
a touch of spring crisis.
Chameleons grooming themselves,
to feast between the stones.

I told her
“Soon in the future…
is a sun rising
…. for me to visit again.”

I talked to the students about pain today,
it was one of those days.
My pain for you and the world,
a sweet singing and a tainted image.
What is means to be truly human.

If time was replayed
I would give more heart, your way.
And through the winters fog and mists,
slow down… breathe deeply and see the whole world… right here.

Some students gave me words,
for me a new delight.

The dark thoughts, the shame and guilt,
that swarm like bees from time- to-time
….. now traded with caution.

Then life can move forward,
never stepping back from fear.
And ghosts do not haunt me, for now.

A Steve Reich morning, already.
Loop after loop, running fast.
Forms and shapes singled out.

Harmonic density
and overlapping asymmetries,
a loneliness of souls.

An orange billed magpie,
swoops from the sky in sheer foolishness.
Changing form to catch the morning sun.

Close the gate, your worries are over.
Put away your tools and sleep in peace.
But the labour is never done, always must you work.
Season’s bright magic calls you out to play.

Oats and peas – look sparse to me.
And the peaches, no less delicious
not ready yet to disgorge their load
We’re all weed-hungry.

Sometimes boredom strikes the mind,
the brick foundations crumble
moment-by- moment.
Even the molecule you gave me, the last time…..
makes me numb.

Then I go back to Bukowski or Dickinson,
who know about journeys of the mind.
And how to hang on
to threads of hope, to reach time and space.

Then peace descends,
I’m fine.

That spring feeling and trudge around,
still hunts me after all these years.
I found myself in the flowers
wishing you were here,
enjoying the cool of the evening
….. one more time.

And the thickets are for the small moments, and the first visiting Chinese
beautiful rosefinch
….. the scent is already in the air.

From those endless dry winters,
and the final parting.
A little wild cherry tree,
and the deep smell of rose blossom
….. pushes back the sadness.

And as the bush warbler sings,
I remember those days…. worn out with love and sensuous kisses
All site lost of the throbbing pain and
swollen cheeks… soon to come.