I thought this love would last forever…

8 months ago since I last wrote here, some little poem I scribbled in a cafe in Folkestone of all places…

Anyway, I thought I’d just stop. Stop doing things, but then strangely life got more busy and crazy and insane and beautiful. These days I hardly every have a moment to write a poem, let alone a story. My daily bible reading plan that I started at the start of the year says 19th March. Books and clutter fill the house. Laundry everywhere. No meal plan done so who knows what we’re eating later.  As I write this  my 1 year old son rather hypnotically keeps throwing books off the book shelf, but I’m just going to let him explore his creativity. I wanna smash it up, Sam, smash it up. Tidy up times come, tidy up times go 🙂

Still, it’s all good. It’s life, and as crazy as it is it’s still our little life. I guess it’s too early for Christmas films, but I’ve already started watching them. Channel 5. Always the same story, always everything is broken but then saved by the magic of Christmas. I still believe.

I picked up the new Norah Jones EP which she wrote with a bunch of hipsters like Jeff Tweedy. It’s short but beautiful, perfect for the wintertime drinking hot chocolate and dreaming about a better world. I’ve also got Mark K’s latest, more rambling blah blah blah. I miss Red House Painters. Then I’ve been listening to Larry Norman and the Cure. I’ll put some tracks of those at the end if you feel so inclined to check them out.

I’m reading Kim Gordons “life in a band”. Finally reading it, it’s been gathering dust here for a while barchieut it’s a great snapshot of a time and memories swirling with the intoxication of trying to fit it. Then she goes on about Thurston Moore being an asshole. He probably is though….

I saw this and it’s on my Christmas list. Looks crazy good. 10 Years being married to Bets/Ronnie. Means nothing to most people, but those Archie stories keep me sane sometimes.

It’s all sold out anyway, but I was hoping to go and see this interesting looking play God’s Dice in London. While there I was going to check this out about the awful treatment of the Roma people in Nazi Germany, no point hiding from sad things. Doesn’t work.

Anyway, I guess I better go and tidy up those books now. He seems happy, I just hope my Dostoevsky isn’t ripped up. Cool little discussion on Radio 4 the other morning about Crime and Punishment which you can hear here. That book changed my life, I remember reading that on an airplane back in 2001 whilst the plan was filling with smoke and some crazy guy started screaming…it wasn’t me.

More soon. Here are those vids. Better go tidy up those books, just hoping Dostoevsky hasn’t been ripped up.

 

 

Birthday letters never sent

time eclipsed responsibility

edged off the horizon

my jet set life twisted and dived

into a burning broken heart, but still we

play feel good tunes on repeat

 

Every night…the same dream –

we stroll under soaring moonlit truth

to a marching melody of forgotten love

and rainbow hope

 

Morning comes, morning walk

through wildflower fields and I count to 224,

and deconstruct letters never sent

as a distant church bell so softly and sweetly calls

 

but I’m not yet out of time

as fragmented circles surround me

with no straight line solution

ready to seal my fate.

 

Written 21.5.2019, Folkestone, England.

 

 

Days of war nights of love

Eight months have gone by now, last time I wrote it was Zwischenzeit …a time of in-betweens….now, it seems to never end, uncertainty, My life is stable, but Brexit bores are everywhere I look. I meet someone who seems kind and caring, then they say something dumb like”Oh the sooner we leave Europe the better!” and I just smile and think you are fucking nuts.  Newspaper articles confuse me, so I turn to home life, to snapshot this peaceful view from my bedroom window where I can hide away from life. I listen to music, I read books and I make long telephone calls. Away from politics there’s much to do, like making food for my family (now I mostly skip the analysis I find all sorts of fun things in the newspaper to enrich my life, like the recipe of the day!)

I still believe. I still read adbusters, I still want to break down falsehood and lies and hysteria and all the things that disrupt a life lived less ordinary. I still pray and read the bible, and I still look for meaning. I saw a book yesterday, funnily enough it was after we met my capitalist father for coffee, and this little book was called “Not working why we have to stop working”. At that point my 2 year old daughter starting crazily running around and throwing books around so I couldn’t investigate further. Still I love the title.

Moment of joy >>>> taking the train to London, having the most perfect cappuccino I’ve ever tasted at a little Italian cafe but having to drink it at super speed as it took them 10 minutes to prepare this perfection. So I guess it seemed rude that we drank it in under 1 minute because we had to get to the theatre to see “Home, I’m darling” which was about as enjoyable as a play can possibly be!

Music I’ve finally picked up a Mark Kozelek album I’ve been meaning to buy for months, it’s heavy but enjoyable. I listen an awful lot to the wonderful Tom Petty boxset, and I’m loving the Norah Jones interview in Mojo magazine.

I’m going to write more, much more. It’s how I figure out meaning in this crazy lost but enriching and beautiful world we share.

something good

Zwischen means not being too far away, reading newspapers and books, but no writing. No poems or stories, nor is it the time for tears or to start a whole new project, or way of life. It’s not a time to, once again, set a match to everything and watch the whole thing burn.

It’s a time to wait. A time to sing silly songs in your bedroom as the clock strikes 2 pm. It’s a time to put on a hypnotherapy cd and fall asleep within 2 minutes as the calm kind lady on the cd tells you to “go on that magic carpet to a special place you don’t need to tell anyone” . I don’t know what the lady says when I’m asleep, but I try not to think of Ian Fleming’s “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” ( where innocent people are hypnotised as they sleep to distribute bacteriological warfare agents throughout various parts of the world!)

It’s a time of in-between. Of taking a couple of weeks off school, to go on some beautiful walks in this amazing part of the world, to watch films and daydream about a better world. A time to spend an inspiring morning at an alternative school, there is a better world. You just got to find it.

I saw Wonder Boys the other night, I haven’t got round to reading the book yet, but I love this film. It’s about a writer, whose kind of washed up and his life is falling apart. Soundtrack by Bob Dylan. Here’s a clip :

 

winterThe closest library here is a few miles away, it’s the kind where you still get your book stamped with the due date. It’s very charming. Anyway, I picked up Winter by Ali Smith, I’m a quarter way through. It’s very well written, like a snapshot of our lonely lost times. I also bought a book when I was in the city called “Why go to Church”. Funny title, but last time I went to church was 2 churchmonths ago and I counted 9 other people there, all far older than myself. Later that Sunday I couldn’t recall what the “message” was. These days I get better insight at the primary school daily worship assemblies. So, we’ll see.

To finish, here’s a beautiful little song. It was sung at the Oscars. Crazy world, but crazy love.

 

things are changing

i had to escape. I moved far away, to a very old house down a little lane, where there are no cars, and not many people either. I live here where when you wake up, and it’s snowing outside, there’s no button to press for heating, you’ve got to go outside and gather some logs to make a fire to keep your family warm. It’s so quiet here, it’s a cottage lost in time. A place where you heat the water with coal, and a beautiful area where I’ve got a job at the little rural school across the fields.

It’s not a place to hide away and accept loss, and to cry about things gone wrong, it’s a place to re-connect with the world around you, and to be creative and to fight for believe in life and in love.

I feel home here. It’s where I’m suppose to be, hidden in a country cottage reading newspapers, writing poems, listening to music and embracing life for what it is, not to call it harsh or hard, but to accept the beauty of a single day. Walking home from work, I’ve never seen such epic stars above me which illuminate life. I have no choice but to look up and lose myself in the wonder of it all and marvel at Creation and Gods love for all of us.

Then there is music. I can’t get by without it anymore. We drove into the city today, for I still love the pulse of  electricity around me, and I picked up these albums.

 

no turning back

All the cool stuff comes from Australia. Earth Hour. Cute Koala Bears, Neighbours….and now Plastic Free July, which we’re trying to do here. As I try to focus strictly on words and guitars, this isn’t really the place to go on about how plastic is destroying our oceans, and how a million water bottles are bought every minute which is going to wreck our beautiful planet, but if you want to find out more go to www.plasticfreejuly.org and you can find out all sorts of interesting things like ways to make your own toothpaste!

Sitting here on a sweet summer evening, a baby rocking in her seat, a pile of magazines and books surround me – here’s a few the latest Atlantic magazine, Ethan Canin’s “a doubters almanac”, Norfolk Living magazine, Archie Married Life comic, and JJ’s “Land of Far Beyond” I’ve got Buffalo Tom in my head. These days I pretty much always have Buffalo Tom in my head, there were one of my first teenage crushes – seemingly exotic, romantic and effortlessly cool. They were American, and I always looked to American music and culture because already at 16 I was sick of England. Sick of old people going on about the beatles, and I always felt more connected to Generation X – Douglas Coupland, Richard Linklater films and the beat generation. Buffalo Tom were often playing at some gig in the tv show My So-Called Life (with Claire Danes), and I’d listen to them and daydream about going to an American school and meeting cool interesting girls like Angela and hanging out and playing pool with Jordan. I had to wait a couple of years until I got to do that….

Time for a couple more fun songs? Here’s a little punky poppy light and kind of silly band called Charly Bliss, good when you can’t hear anymore Trump news

Summer song of 2017 Alvvays 🙂

Nights of Love

Been so caught up in the merry-go-round of school/children/domestic bliss/regretting regret/to-do-lists that I’ve not had time to capture much in writings, either poetic or here. Doesn’t matter, as I read in an essay by the American essayist Mark Grief that people  waste their time trying to write diaries or take photos because people like that…like me….he argues do not fully experience life, but merely live in a fantasy escapism trying to catch time before it rushes on to the next experience. He says better to just drift through…Well, Marky Mark, I’ve been doing that a bit too much recently, and it somehow doesn’t quite fulfil me. Maybe I’m into escapism as I need to record words more than ever these days.

For my birthday I had a HMV voucher so I picked up the latest albums by Neil Young (Peace Trail) and Thurston Moore (Rock ‘n’ Roll Consciousness) Neil Young is  here is railing on in an enjoyable way about how he doesn’t understands the modern world, and he’s angry with too about people messing with nature, native Americans and the workers, and it’s full of energy and protest. Thurston Moore is a nice collection of breezy 10 minute songs, with flowing guitars and a relentless drumming by good old Steve Shelley. It’s got Debbie Googe on too, and it feels like early 20th century sonic youth. That’s not a bad thing. I’ve been listening to it a lot driving to and from work, and it’s got the right balance of escapism and interesting lyrics to keep you focused after a crazy day working in a little school.

Been reading lots of interesting things. Really like this Dutch magazine called Flow. Also got a copy of the always brilliant and funny PJ O Rourke “How the hell did this happen” in which he attempts to understand how the hell Trump got elected. Also the new Gwendoline Riley “First Love” which I’m hoping will win the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction this year, because it’s the best modern novel I’ve read in ages. It’s sad and brutal though, but as I watch “Neighbours” everyday for 20 minute blasts of escapism in sunny Australia with nice happy one dimensional characters, I need to counter it with something like Gwen Riley.