an ice cube melts invisibly in my stomach, the last act of the prince of cool. it came with my gin and did the required job. the end was private away from the glare of publicity. better than being flushed down the sink. the lemon stayed in the glass, it too redundant, thrown away. trashed. no longer wanted. not sure how i feel about it all. inanimate objects yes. as a buddhist is there a chance I could return as a slice of lemon? should that make me look at it differently? lemon aid le mon l’emon lemo n lem on and so on and so forth. forthcoming an auto correct option. ongoing. option. opt out.
March 20, 2019
March 16, 2019
wheaten void
We have no bread. The loaf has been consumed. The last slice was surgically removed this morning and toasted along with the crust. Its purpose was served. A short, fulfilled life devoted to keeping hunger at bay. Nourishment its finest purpose and measure of its success. Now gone it has left a void…
March 12, 2019
words spill slowly
Surrounded by books I drown in words.
I picture myself, alone, writing by the light of a single candle. Words spill slowly onto the page, my mind adjusting its flow to the tempo of the pen. These words seem more considered than anything that spits out at the speed of hands at a keyboard. Dancing fingers outpace thought.
Outside in the darkness a threatening wind beats invisible fists against the window. My candle flickers, a retreat into an obscure past. I am buried in the page, sucked in by words randomly thrown down. How they get there is my story.
One hundred books are removed. Ten million once read words unwanted. Ten million flourishes unemotionally scattered into the night. The candle dies but a new dawn arrives.
March 10, 2019
The movement of a foot
Discuss
The movement of a foot
A hand in bush
Cast of the dice
Rolling coverage – all the days
Bread roll
Dish of the day
Plates of the meat
Continental drift
Antipasti antidote anticoagulant
Uncle sock
Blood brother arms
Those who can do nose
Face of adversity
On the brow of the hill the foolish people play
In the wind beaten garden
In the wind beaten garden, birds hide, branches fall and words scatter. Collars pulled tight on bent head daffodils.
Then the rain; incessant bird bath fill, deafening inside the conservatory.
Later skies lighten, snow is promised. Wind drops and peace descends.
March 8, 2019
Homeward bound I am
Homeward bound I am, fleeing city madness and the battle against the office worker tide
Homeward bound I am, to recover from an opulent week of self indulgent excess
Homeward bound I am, to a smile and a kiss and a nice cup of tea
Homeward bound I am,
Homeward bound I am.
March 3, 2019
Sunday morning 3rd March
Espresso on, coffee pot noises
Half a grapefruit, livener
ClassiF cM
Moment of reflection, shiver through shoulders
Anne’s thought for the day: Hannah looks like Anti Ann apparently
Just had my jobs list read out to me. It’s the longest one in some time
- Order skip (and presumably fill it)
- Plant seeds
- Repair sideboard door (the one in the conservatory)
- Repair fence post (I reversed the car into it and it cracked in half!)
- Sort out downstairs loo – needs a professional
- Stick back missing time in utility room
- new light bulbs in kitchen and conservatory
- Fix radiator cover
This is not one that will get done quickly. My most immediate job is is to decide on what to have for breakfast. There are options although I used up all the mushrooms in the steak pie last night.
Ingredients to hand:
- Wholemeal bread
- Bacon medallions
- Skinny sausages (low Syn)
- Eggs
- beans , baked, one of someone else’s 57 varieties
- Potah toes
- Tinned tomatoes, whole
- The other half of the grapefruit
- Potentially some smoked salmon though I haven’t checked
- One green chilli
- One green pepper
There is no rush to decide. Classic FM really is relaxing me. Fair play. I wonder if today is all about lists? There already seems to be a trend. Eleven breakfast items seems a lot. This needs careful consideration. Note no baked beans but I could add spam fritters to the list as I just came across a tin of spam whilst checking the cupboard for beans. Ain’t going to happen this morning though. I wouldn’t eat a whole tin and it is particularly incompatible with Slimming World.
Starting to feel the odd hunger pang. Juices moving. Wonder how long I could go before needing to decide. Am thinking poached eggs on toast with chillies, a bit of bacon on the side and some fried potatoes. There. Done it. Now you know.
Storm Freya is a coming.
prenderti in un po ‘di amici. Devo andare via per accendere la stufa
March 1, 2019
clamour for glamour
the clamour for glamour, l’amour, more armour the full silk jacket
weaving taxi driver tipped, out of contract, vanished into thin Catalan air
departure lounging littered with the debris of prior passengers. bored cleaner picks one small piece of paper and selectively brushes floor.
front row easy jet living jet relaxed jet squeezed in jet cramped jet warm jet sufferajet
any cosmetics, perfumes cigarette jet
grey jacket plane full fluorescent green beats in daft ears
trying to make some sense of it all