145

I walk, buffeted

streams of sand arc the beach wall

grains itch on my neck

10.12.15

144

radiant white lights

suspended in garden's dark

little galaxy

8.12.15

143

Old path, overgrown

Choked with weeds, brambles snatching,

Stagnant pools of leaves

26.11.15

142

November dampness

Hanging in the air, clinging

Greyness closes in

26.11.15

141

Person on the bus

Please get some better headphones

dn-tsh, dn-tsh - Aargh!

17.11.15

140

Leaves drift restlessly

Pause between the parked cars

Then whirling, scatter

12.11.15

139

birds above the lake

sinuous transformations

as dusk approaches

29.10.15

138

october morning

the grey fields stacked high with their

intangible crop

28.10.15

137

I squandered my words

on some forgettable thought.

Only landfill now.

27.10.15

136

Silence now; entombed

Gnawing sensation inside

Slow putrefaction

27.10.15

135

Bronze droplets spiral

Rough pools spread across pavements

Pattern the verges

26.10.15

134

Thoughts thick, slow as sludge

Weak resistance, eyes close

Slipping, submerging

21.10.15

133

Mars, a step behind,

whispers of Apollo's rise.

Jointly they recede.

14.10.15

132

Venus, lost in thought,

With Jupiter, attending

Treads the sapphire halls

13.10.15

131

A flame in darkness

The after-image lingers

Memory of warmth

8.10.15

130

Grimy, scuffed-up sky

Sullen clouds hanging around

Like bored teenagers

7.10.15

Something more than just a film review

I enjoy reading Roger Ebert's film reviews, mostly because if he liked a film there is a good chance I will like it too but also because they are well-written and can be both entertaining and thought-provoking.

Yesterday I watched "In The Mood For Love" and afterwards read Roger's review of it. I was struck by the way he finished the piece; it's not often I find something like this in a film review. Here's the final paragraph:

"Their lives are as walled in as their cramped living quarters. They have more money than places to spend it. Still dressed for the office, she dashes out to a crowded alley to buy noodles. Sometimes they meet on the grotty staircase. Often it is raining. Sometimes they simply talk on the sidewalk. Lovers do not notice where they are, do not notice that they repeat themselves. It isn't repetition, anyway--it's reassurance. And when you're holding back and speaking in code, no conversation is boring, because the empty spaces are filled by your desires."
 - http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/in-the-mood-for-love-2001

129

A small, brown-black mouse

Turned to dart along the path.

It was just a leaf

29.9.15

128

Bright sun through light rain

Staging an intense rainbow

Wet road white, dazzles

18.9.15

127

Paths between the trees

Green golden glow, inviting

Strewn with dew's jewels

7.9.15

I admit to getting a bit silly with the last line.

126

blown-ink trees quiver,

bare against January's

cartridge paper sky

28.8.15

Tried to remove the context of the original version; added the paper image I thought of in the intervening time.

125

sunlight through the trees

patchwork of shadows and light

shifting patterns stir

28.8.15

124

late summer morning

eastern sky's radiance slides

into perfect blue

28.8.15

123

a brief aperture

allows illumination.

clouds shift, erasing

24.8.15

122

Clouds obscure the sun

No more does her light reach me

A dimmed, faded world

21.8.15

121

The oncoming dark,

Immense, all-consuming gyre.

Shadows overwhelm

19.8.15

120

Trees glide across clouds

And buildings, themselves sliding

Over fractured sky

17.8.15

119

A child's lost plaything

On top of a bus shelter

Small blue-furred figure

12.8.15

118

Turns the music up

A sonic anaesthetic

All thoughts pushed away

11.8.15

117

Silent remoteness

No footsteps to guide me back

Landscape bearing down

10.8.15

116

Dawn’s azure canvas

Rainbow spatter of balloons

Set above the town

7.8.15

115

A child’s bicycle

Bright red, yellow; abandoned

Lying in the stream

6.8.15

114

the house, left unlocked

fridge's drone the only sound

cup of tea, gone cold

5.8.15

113

The rose's pinkness

Vivid once, now pallid; sapped

By drab atmosphere

4.8.15

Edited 6.8.15, reversed first two words of second line.

112

Tortoiseshell curled up

Among the neglected grass

Sleeping in the shade

3.8.15

111

Leaves shaking, rolling

Fine rain's mist greys the distance

Virid hues darken

27.7.15

110

lightning’s stabs have passed;

dull thunder still grumbles round

the cirque of my skull

6.7.15

Voice

I speak, but no words come

Instead a spew of pebbles

Clattering on the ground

Sound without meaning

8.6.15

Dissolve, reform

Thunderous barrage

Torrent of silvered arrows

Falls relentlessly

Strikes; again, again

Sluice erodes, washes away

Obliterating

All that’s left behind

Dull black stone, smooth and heavy

Untouched. Pernicious.

Slow coalescing

Round that insidious weight

Can’t be left behind

Reformed now, standing.

Slowly start to move again

Fighting its cold pull.

05.06.15

109

Lumpen goons, grey-suits

Shielding the star, threatening.

Onlookers retreat

Rainclouds, 1.6.15

108

Summer's sun has set

Light lingering, shadows draw

I sit, reflecting

26.5.15

107

Strong gusts shake the boughs

Rolling, shimmering in green

Spring light’s glint and shade

12.5.15

Sat atop the tor

Sat atop the tor

Weathered granite aspect

Lichen patches, pale celadon

Eyes closed, mouth open

Wind sweeps, invades me

I become its instrument

Looking now, I see you

Sat beside me

Shared moment

Cloud steals over

Shadow crosses rock

Sliding away

Looking again

Looking back

A trick,
Shade of memory


I didn't just believe it, I knew it, for so long, and it turned out to be an illusion.

I still don't understand it.



Oct 14 - March 15

Edited 25.06.15 to fix the text colour of the last three lines, which for some reason were different from the rest of the text.

106

Oilseed fields, fierce bright

Pushing up against a sky

Patchwork grey and white

5.5.15

105

lamps adorn the boughs

shining ardent pink-white, new

magnolia blooms

9.4.15

104

spring morning, new light

trees stretching after winter

pale leaves unfurling

31.3.15

103

Rainclouds in the west

Contrasting bright eastern sky

Sunset feels like dawn

25.3.15

102

late afternoon haze

the world turns and the sun turns

a deeper orange

19.3.15

101

Old warriors, ranked

Emerge from the parting mist

Silently waiting

17.3.15

100

Toiling up steep hills

Now and then a gentler slope

Following the path

13.3.15

99

Bright sun on the fields

Walking in the shade of trees

Out to the canal

13.3.15

98

grey, the rolling sea

horizon's dark, thin ribbon

faintest light pulsing

12.3.15

97

spectre's claw grips me

needle talons pierce my skull

diffuse pain focussed

10.3.15

96

car park, wet tarmac

blinding twin sun reflection

eyes closed, orange flare

10.3.15

95

Drizzle leaches light

Deadens early blossom’s blush

Muted in the mist

10.3.15

94

Boat slipped its mooring

Drifted, unnoticed at first

Till it was too late

5.3.15

93

March breeze, gentle, cool

Sun slanting through the window

Warming my shoulder

4.3.15

92

music permeates

evokes past moments, feelings

quicksand memories

3.3.15

91

Two white sails, far off

driven under blackened clouds,

race in slow motion

2.3.15

90

hail falls, writhing, quick

fleeting wind-spun helices

tethering the clouds

2.3.15

89

A light frost remains

But the lustrous morning sun

Prompts thoughts of summer

27.2.15

88

Walking up the road

Trees in flower; cloying, sweet

Warm night long ago

26.2.15

87

Soporific air

Thoughts begun, left unfinished

Afternoon drags on

25.2.15

86

shrouded sky, gloom-murk

bitter wind snuffs spring's promise

snow falls fitfully

24.2.15