A toastcard from me to you...
...things I feel like sharing, maybe just those times when I 'feel like letting my freak flag fly'. *
Sunday 15th August
It has been a while since any words have been spread across this freshly toasted bread...for those of you who come here regularly for such a feast (or those who are new), please accept my apologies...there is to be a short gap in transmissions, whilst I move my good self from one home to another, once all of the wires have been untangled and reconnected, this site will be back, as beautiful as ever...see you in about a month...
Thursday 29th July
And the good news is...it is only 54 days until Autumn is here.
Saturday 24th July
Unveiled today...
Can You Haiku? A weblog for the world to send their haikus for the world to enjoy...go to the 'good things' page and click on the link...then get writing...
Tuesday 13th July
After the heat, the rain is spectacular.
In celebration I bought a book - 'Betting on the Muse' by Charles Bukowski. It is a collection of poems and stories written when he knew he was dying. As always his words are used with beautiful care:
the laughing heart
your life is your life.
don't let it be clubbed into dank
submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the
darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them, take them.
you can't beat death but
you can beat death
in life,
sometimes.
and the more often you
learn to do it,
the more light there will
be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have
it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in
you.
by Charles Bukowski
Tuesday 6th July
From my usual weekday cafe window I watched a happy, lithe gentleman practising Tai Chi/Qigong beside a fountain this morning. He was in no hurry and wore no frown, as many do at 7:30am. His movements were graceful & earnest & I felt in awe as I watched. It was as though he knew something the rest of us do not.
To my left I heard a sudden sniggering and turning, saw three women in their late 40's, laughing and mocking. The longer I listened, the crueller they became, scathing in the face of something different. It made me sad that three women who appeared healthy and loudly full of their own success, could be so damning and hurtful, rattling inside of their uptight, caged lives. Listening to them, it was as though all warmth, all curiosity for new experience, all excitement for the great unknown had been long since exsanguinated from their viciously comfortable existence.
Leaving them to their relentless spite I found myself wondering, of the three women and the man, who smiles more? who sleeps better? who experiences life and love? who is truly happy, compassionate and ultimately content within a rare simplicity?
Saturday 26th June
I took a street today I have not seen before. After a steep hill, sweating beneath a very hot sun, I found a woodland I never knew about, only a couple of miles from the heart of the city. I saw a robin, three grey squirrels, piece of broken pottery, lovers sat on a cool, shaded bench and then found a long passageway where the trees had entwined, forming a canopy so tight as to block out all of the sun. It was dark in that wood, crisp, loamy and dark. As the heart of the day burned hotter I sat on a fallen tree and listened to the whispering woodland. It was peaceful, it was beautiful. A timeless, primeval feeling, as though little has progressed outside the wood. It is an embrace of powerful energy that left me in awe. Ideas came to me and I felt safe. But more than that...I felt renewed.
Monday 21st June
Today is the longest day.
Night will pass through like a shortened promise or a squandered wish. In the morning, it will fade like a warm dream hug. Then another day, with slightly shorter light than the one before. In time, the balance will be restored and autumn will reign in a coat of many colours.
These words come from the feeling that too much sun can bring.
Saturday 12 June
As chants of 'Ing-ur-lund' sound out like gunfire, I intend to remain oblivious. For a country that spent centuries stamping across the world, forcing people to become part of an Empire they had not asked for, it seems as the mad season begins, that England has stepped further away from, rather than nearer to any semblance of understanding, civilisation or compassion...
Sunday 30th May
Ordinarily, I can take or leave Eurovision...I like the fireworks, but the music is always dire. However, last night, I saw something amazing...just before the results, organised by Norway - the host nation - was this huge, shared moment of dancing...call it 'flashmobbing', call it what you will...from one country to the next...to the next...thousands of people dancing in unison, like a wave of happiness rippling outward across the planet...it was a surprise...and it was beautiful. The world needs more dancing and more shared happiness. If it can come from Eurovision, chances are it can come from anywhere...
Thursday 27th May
Thursdays never disappoint...there is a breeze, a smile, fine music and a song in my heart that reaches for the clouds...
Sunday 16th May
'A Parable' - taken from 'Zen Flesh, Zen Bones', compiled by Paul Reps:
Buddha told a parable in a sutra:
A man travelling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him.
Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away at the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other.
How sweet it tasted!
Saturday 8th May
Available now - first in a series of limited edition poetry chapbooks...first print run has nearly sold out, second print run due to (relatively) popular demand...see the 'buy me' page...
Thursday 6th May
Out there, in the real world, there seems to be frowning folk rushing around today with polling cards. By tomorrow the faces may have changed, the falsehood and the egotism won't have... A Green victory would be spectacular, but it's the real world and things don't ever go like that...in the meantime, find a good book, or some beautiful music, kiss someone (ideally someone who wants to be kissed by you), eat a wholesome (animal-free) meal, say thank-you to whoever you believe looks out for us, go outside, open a window, smell the rain...feel nature...feel alive, instead of worrying about whether you can get parked outside the polling station, whether yor programmes are recording...whether your bus will be on time tomorrow...
Saturday 24th April
'On the same spot I sit today
Others came, in ages past, to sit.
One thousand years, still others will come.
Who is the singer, and who is the listener?'
Ngu-Yen Cong Tru
Friday 16th April
' And then she looked at him, long into his gaze. She turned with a third of a smile. Her movements, great, happy gestures...'
Friday 9th April
The end of national King Crimson week...well it isn't a national week, but it should be. Much of my activity this week has gone on to the sounds of King Crimson. There are not many bands out there that guarantee when you put that disc in the machine, you have no idea where you're going to go...truly magnificent adventures for the ears and mind... a week and more of 'Larks' Tongues in Aspic', 'Discipline', 'Court of the Crimson King' and 'The Power to Believe'. All different, all spectacular. Go there. Enjoy.
Saturday 27th March
Green has returned to the colours of day. There is an excited breeze, flowers are slowly looking upward from the soil. The sun is trying harder and the moonlight falls keener. Spring is here...
Tuesday 16th March
Generally I find Tuesdays long, dull days. Today I have thought about 'Deep Ecology'. I have written some more 'Happenstance'. I have listened to The Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix and Sepultura. I have eaten a Cadbury's Crunchie. I have noticed the sunshine from the top deck of a half full bus. I have read some poetry by Gary Snyder and half a chapter of a Jonathan Carroll book. All this, and it's only 5.09pm. Perhaps Tuesdays are not that bad after all...
Thursday 4th March
Every building that you work in, live in, drink coffee in, make love in, eat fine food in, cry in, stamp your feet in, think in, regret in, be happy in...once was a time none of them were here. A time when there was much more green land than there is now. The balance has tipped in the wrong direction. We need buildings, but we need buildings that blend with the land, that sustain themselves. I cannot construct buildings like this, but I can hope that others might.
Sunday 21st February
This morning my toaster caught fire. It seems that my crumb tray has become full to the point of chaos. I am now paying the price for having better things to do than empty my crumb tray. As the smoke fades, my home is filled with the smell of an autumn evening. There is beauty then, even in a flaming toaster.
Saturday 13th February
Not all days come bright or brilliant. Some are cold even when the sun is up. Some feel like a lonely goodbye on a wintry station platform. Some days need rain on the outside of the window.
Today is a day for the words of Richard Brautigan:
'A Good-Talking Candle'
I had a good-talking candle
last night in my bedroom.
I was very tired but I wanted
somebody to be with me,
so I lit a candle.
and listened to its comfortable
voice of light until I was asleep.
*
Thursday 11th February
This week I have found that I have needed to listen to a lot of Gong. This has lifted by spirits and glistened my sense of hope. They were - and still are - true pioneers.
Words from a wise man:
'Life is much too serious
to be serious about'
Daevid Allen, founding member of Gong.
Saturday 30th January
This week has been cold, but there are green shoots and fresh leaves. In the morning birdsong reminds me to get out of bed. I have spent a lot of time looking at fountains. Listening to the water. Each time it has made the day better.
Friday 22nd January
The Image, as in a Hexagram
by Lew Welch
The image, as in a Hexagram:
The hermit locks his door against the blizzard.
He keeps the cabin warm.
All winter long he sorts out all he has.
What was well started shall be finished.
What was not, should be thrown away.
In spring he emerges with one garment
and a single a book.
The cabin is very clean.
Except for that you'd never guess
anyone lived there.
Friday 15th January
I was in a charity shop today looking for a book. A gentleman of impeccable diction & kindly eyes, supported by two wooden sticks, asked me if he could get nearer to the books. I smiled and stepped aside for him. Craning in close to the spines he began looking at the titles and the small pictures that some of the larger blockbusters had on their spines. He grinned with bright eyes as he collected a number of books with raunchy titles and saucy images on the cover. Something about these selections had made his day in a way I may never understand. They took him back somewhere a long time ago.
Wednesday 13 January
Today I woke too soon from a dream. There was a secret society that lived underground. More would have happened had the alarm clock not screamed. The experience has left me - for much of the morning anyway - slightly ferocious when startled.
Monday 11 January
A week or so before Christmas I was sat in a small churchyard in the heart of the city where I live. It is a small place, with flat tombstones. Many people hurry over them without noticing them. A well-dressed woman of around forty walked in and instead of settling on one of the empty benches, sat down beside me. In her hands was a fancy cardboard box, the kind that has cream cakes in it. She explained to me, smiling, that she simply couldn't walk any further without eat her cream cake.
I smiled, telling her I thought it a very good spot for a cream cake. She ate the cream cake with gusto as I watched some pigeons eyeing up her food. We commented to one another about how peaceful the churchyard was, despite being squashed in amongst the shriek and clatter of modern businesses, traffic and people hurrying in all directions, tangled thoughts pushing frowns out through their brows.
The woman told me her father had died recently. Walking through the city she had felt him suggest to her that she take five minutes in this place, settle, enjoy the serenity. She explained that the following day she was due to fly to America to put flowers on his grave. She wasn't sad though. She had a peace about her that was almost tangible.
I wished her well, hoping that she made it there safe.
She told me that her father was with us, right then and there. The feeling of calm that settled over the churchyard was overwhelming. It silenced the city. It was a moment shared by two strangers, a beautiful and rare moment. It is moments like this, when you stop and still the mind, feel the quiet that you get a glimpse of life as it really is.
Thursday 7 January 2010
Welcome to my website, here be some of the words and some of the ideas I have had so far...
There is much more to
come.
It has been a while since any words have been spread across this freshly toasted bread...for those of you who come here regularly for such a feast (or those who are new), please accept my apologies...there is to be a short gap in transmissions, whilst I move my good self from one home to another, once all of the wires have been untangled and reconnected, this site will be back, as beautiful as ever...see you in about a month...
Thursday 29th July
And the good news is...it is only 54 days until Autumn is here.
Saturday 24th July
Unveiled today...
Can You Haiku? A weblog for the world to send their haikus for the world to enjoy...go to the 'good things' page and click on the link...then get writing...
Tuesday 13th July
After the heat, the rain is spectacular.
In celebration I bought a book - 'Betting on the Muse' by Charles Bukowski. It is a collection of poems and stories written when he knew he was dying. As always his words are used with beautiful care:
the laughing heart
your life is your life.
don't let it be clubbed into dank
submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the
darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them, take them.
you can't beat death but
you can beat death
in life,
sometimes.
and the more often you
learn to do it,
the more light there will
be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have
it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in
you.
by Charles Bukowski
Tuesday 6th July
From my usual weekday cafe window I watched a happy, lithe gentleman practising Tai Chi/Qigong beside a fountain this morning. He was in no hurry and wore no frown, as many do at 7:30am. His movements were graceful & earnest & I felt in awe as I watched. It was as though he knew something the rest of us do not.
To my left I heard a sudden sniggering and turning, saw three women in their late 40's, laughing and mocking. The longer I listened, the crueller they became, scathing in the face of something different. It made me sad that three women who appeared healthy and loudly full of their own success, could be so damning and hurtful, rattling inside of their uptight, caged lives. Listening to them, it was as though all warmth, all curiosity for new experience, all excitement for the great unknown had been long since exsanguinated from their viciously comfortable existence.
Leaving them to their relentless spite I found myself wondering, of the three women and the man, who smiles more? who sleeps better? who experiences life and love? who is truly happy, compassionate and ultimately content within a rare simplicity?
Saturday 26th June
I took a street today I have not seen before. After a steep hill, sweating beneath a very hot sun, I found a woodland I never knew about, only a couple of miles from the heart of the city. I saw a robin, three grey squirrels, piece of broken pottery, lovers sat on a cool, shaded bench and then found a long passageway where the trees had entwined, forming a canopy so tight as to block out all of the sun. It was dark in that wood, crisp, loamy and dark. As the heart of the day burned hotter I sat on a fallen tree and listened to the whispering woodland. It was peaceful, it was beautiful. A timeless, primeval feeling, as though little has progressed outside the wood. It is an embrace of powerful energy that left me in awe. Ideas came to me and I felt safe. But more than that...I felt renewed.
Monday 21st June
Today is the longest day.
Night will pass through like a shortened promise or a squandered wish. In the morning, it will fade like a warm dream hug. Then another day, with slightly shorter light than the one before. In time, the balance will be restored and autumn will reign in a coat of many colours.
These words come from the feeling that too much sun can bring.
Saturday 12 June
As chants of 'Ing-ur-lund' sound out like gunfire, I intend to remain oblivious. For a country that spent centuries stamping across the world, forcing people to become part of an Empire they had not asked for, it seems as the mad season begins, that England has stepped further away from, rather than nearer to any semblance of understanding, civilisation or compassion...
Sunday 30th May
Ordinarily, I can take or leave Eurovision...I like the fireworks, but the music is always dire. However, last night, I saw something amazing...just before the results, organised by Norway - the host nation - was this huge, shared moment of dancing...call it 'flashmobbing', call it what you will...from one country to the next...to the next...thousands of people dancing in unison, like a wave of happiness rippling outward across the planet...it was a surprise...and it was beautiful. The world needs more dancing and more shared happiness. If it can come from Eurovision, chances are it can come from anywhere...
Thursday 27th May
Thursdays never disappoint...there is a breeze, a smile, fine music and a song in my heart that reaches for the clouds...
Sunday 16th May
'A Parable' - taken from 'Zen Flesh, Zen Bones', compiled by Paul Reps:
Buddha told a parable in a sutra:
A man travelling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him.
Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away at the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other.
How sweet it tasted!
Saturday 8th May
Available now - first in a series of limited edition poetry chapbooks...first print run has nearly sold out, second print run due to (relatively) popular demand...see the 'buy me' page...
Thursday 6th May
Out there, in the real world, there seems to be frowning folk rushing around today with polling cards. By tomorrow the faces may have changed, the falsehood and the egotism won't have... A Green victory would be spectacular, but it's the real world and things don't ever go like that...in the meantime, find a good book, or some beautiful music, kiss someone (ideally someone who wants to be kissed by you), eat a wholesome (animal-free) meal, say thank-you to whoever you believe looks out for us, go outside, open a window, smell the rain...feel nature...feel alive, instead of worrying about whether you can get parked outside the polling station, whether yor programmes are recording...whether your bus will be on time tomorrow...
Saturday 24th April
'On the same spot I sit today
Others came, in ages past, to sit.
One thousand years, still others will come.
Who is the singer, and who is the listener?'
Ngu-Yen Cong Tru
Friday 16th April
' And then she looked at him, long into his gaze. She turned with a third of a smile. Her movements, great, happy gestures...'
Friday 9th April
The end of national King Crimson week...well it isn't a national week, but it should be. Much of my activity this week has gone on to the sounds of King Crimson. There are not many bands out there that guarantee when you put that disc in the machine, you have no idea where you're going to go...truly magnificent adventures for the ears and mind... a week and more of 'Larks' Tongues in Aspic', 'Discipline', 'Court of the Crimson King' and 'The Power to Believe'. All different, all spectacular. Go there. Enjoy.
Saturday 27th March
Green has returned to the colours of day. There is an excited breeze, flowers are slowly looking upward from the soil. The sun is trying harder and the moonlight falls keener. Spring is here...
Tuesday 16th March
Generally I find Tuesdays long, dull days. Today I have thought about 'Deep Ecology'. I have written some more 'Happenstance'. I have listened to The Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix and Sepultura. I have eaten a Cadbury's Crunchie. I have noticed the sunshine from the top deck of a half full bus. I have read some poetry by Gary Snyder and half a chapter of a Jonathan Carroll book. All this, and it's only 5.09pm. Perhaps Tuesdays are not that bad after all...
Thursday 4th March
Every building that you work in, live in, drink coffee in, make love in, eat fine food in, cry in, stamp your feet in, think in, regret in, be happy in...once was a time none of them were here. A time when there was much more green land than there is now. The balance has tipped in the wrong direction. We need buildings, but we need buildings that blend with the land, that sustain themselves. I cannot construct buildings like this, but I can hope that others might.
Sunday 21st February
This morning my toaster caught fire. It seems that my crumb tray has become full to the point of chaos. I am now paying the price for having better things to do than empty my crumb tray. As the smoke fades, my home is filled with the smell of an autumn evening. There is beauty then, even in a flaming toaster.
Saturday 13th February
Not all days come bright or brilliant. Some are cold even when the sun is up. Some feel like a lonely goodbye on a wintry station platform. Some days need rain on the outside of the window.
Today is a day for the words of Richard Brautigan:
'A Good-Talking Candle'
I had a good-talking candle
last night in my bedroom.
I was very tired but I wanted
somebody to be with me,
so I lit a candle.
and listened to its comfortable
voice of light until I was asleep.
*
Thursday 11th February
This week I have found that I have needed to listen to a lot of Gong. This has lifted by spirits and glistened my sense of hope. They were - and still are - true pioneers.
Words from a wise man:
'Life is much too serious
to be serious about'
Daevid Allen, founding member of Gong.
Saturday 30th January
This week has been cold, but there are green shoots and fresh leaves. In the morning birdsong reminds me to get out of bed. I have spent a lot of time looking at fountains. Listening to the water. Each time it has made the day better.
Friday 22nd January
The Image, as in a Hexagram
by Lew Welch
The image, as in a Hexagram:
The hermit locks his door against the blizzard.
He keeps the cabin warm.
All winter long he sorts out all he has.
What was well started shall be finished.
What was not, should be thrown away.
In spring he emerges with one garment
and a single a book.
The cabin is very clean.
Except for that you'd never guess
anyone lived there.
Friday 15th January
I was in a charity shop today looking for a book. A gentleman of impeccable diction & kindly eyes, supported by two wooden sticks, asked me if he could get nearer to the books. I smiled and stepped aside for him. Craning in close to the spines he began looking at the titles and the small pictures that some of the larger blockbusters had on their spines. He grinned with bright eyes as he collected a number of books with raunchy titles and saucy images on the cover. Something about these selections had made his day in a way I may never understand. They took him back somewhere a long time ago.
Wednesday 13 January
Today I woke too soon from a dream. There was a secret society that lived underground. More would have happened had the alarm clock not screamed. The experience has left me - for much of the morning anyway - slightly ferocious when startled.
Monday 11 January
A week or so before Christmas I was sat in a small churchyard in the heart of the city where I live. It is a small place, with flat tombstones. Many people hurry over them without noticing them. A well-dressed woman of around forty walked in and instead of settling on one of the empty benches, sat down beside me. In her hands was a fancy cardboard box, the kind that has cream cakes in it. She explained to me, smiling, that she simply couldn't walk any further without eat her cream cake.
I smiled, telling her I thought it a very good spot for a cream cake. She ate the cream cake with gusto as I watched some pigeons eyeing up her food. We commented to one another about how peaceful the churchyard was, despite being squashed in amongst the shriek and clatter of modern businesses, traffic and people hurrying in all directions, tangled thoughts pushing frowns out through their brows.
The woman told me her father had died recently. Walking through the city she had felt him suggest to her that she take five minutes in this place, settle, enjoy the serenity. She explained that the following day she was due to fly to America to put flowers on his grave. She wasn't sad though. She had a peace about her that was almost tangible.
I wished her well, hoping that she made it there safe.
She told me that her father was with us, right then and there. The feeling of calm that settled over the churchyard was overwhelming. It silenced the city. It was a moment shared by two strangers, a beautiful and rare moment. It is moments like this, when you stop and still the mind, feel the quiet that you get a glimpse of life as it really is.
Thursday 7 January 2010
Welcome to my website, here be some of the words and some of the ideas I have had so far...
There is much more to
come.
* Thank you David Crosby - from 'Almost Cut My Hair'
Legal fluff: poems, short stories, novels, original photography (and samples thereof) belong to the author exclusively (unless otherwise stated) and are subject to copyright legislation.
