The end of the road is a long long way
and with storm clouds gathering
there is no place to hide,
I think of the friends I have left behind
and wonder what they are doing,
wish they were with me on this long long ride
Photo – Lewis weather by Blues
Dilapidated house in Lewis – by “Blues”
It was not an easy living and the kids eventually had to leave home to work over the water. They came back from time to time but then the old man died and there was no longer a reason to make the trip. The building lay empty and locked until one winter a storm ripped slates off the roof. The subsequent decline was rapid and the cottage soon became fit only for sheep and nesting birds. Never again would that hearth see a roaring fire in the grate.
Come on Rack, it’s time to hack,
That cable mess, I do distress,
Always the night, to end this fight.
Now feel my rage, as I strip your cage,
You’re left to bare… I no longer care!
South Uist Sunset – by Blues
I look at this scene and feel calm, the serenity of the South Uist sunset. The derelict building, a black cut out on the darkened promontory, is a focus for the mind on life on the island. Summer now but a different proposition in winter. As if I am being lulled into a false sense of wellbeing.
I spend a few minutes gazing and then retire to the cottage. The oil lamp is already lit. There is no fire in the hearth but the smell of peat lingers, mingling well with the whisky in my glass. We sit around the table in the kitchen and talk long into the night.
hidden art
conflict of emotion
paint by discard
sewer of creativity
avoided filled void
afficionadoless
Graffiti3 by Blues
photo – “jura dawn” by Blues
waters gently lap
whilst the light slowly
grows in intensity,
nature’s perfect alarm clock
a gradual awakening,
reflection on the day ahead,
eastern promise exclaimed
in western islands, perfect
one casts shadows
the other provides shade
church tower – tree
tree – church tower
rhyme or reason
personal decision
photo “church spire Mull” by Blues
roll ‘em
fill ‘em full of whisky and roll ‘em
line ‘em up like gas-bloated porkers
brim with potential and gasping for kicks
release to an audience of nosey savants
significant savour,
bar brawl, shameful mix
full, of anticipation
empty, filling with expectation
or deepest reflection, innermost feeling
a cycle, start again
roll ‘em
fill ‘em full of whisky and roll ‘em
photo – Barrels by Blues
I know all the staff there.
Des has been in the chippy business all his life
I went there last Friday
they were queueing outside the door
it was raining and
I had to shelter under the awning outside
the queue was still the same length
even when I got to the front
he is moving to new premises
hopefully in July
the old Waggon and Horses
it was a gentle spring evening
tshirt weather
we were just coming out of winter
they were dancing in the Strugglers
the music rocked that night
the lone guitarist
with harmonica and voice
he knew all the requests
a potent combination
good beer and good music
not a lager in sight
just one more for the road
my cab arrived
and I left knowing it was too soon
I hear a flute
I know where it is coming from
but I prefer to think it is ethereal
it doesn’t matter anyway because
ethereal or not
I listen to it with
extreme pleasure
it stops then starts up again
sometimes haltingly
sometimes with a wonderful fluidity
scales, up and down,
pauses here and there to digest the task in hand
in my imagination I see her
sat there studying the music
perfect poise
swept back blonde hair
she is beautiful
Ears are ugly, they’re unseemly, unhygienic and unsightly,
God was definitely drunk when He designed ’em.
Though it’s a shocking allegation
there’s no other explanation
for the biggest single cock-up in Creation.
A design fault falling short on technical support,
they’re repulsive little afterthoughts brought out late.
We’re supposed to have been wrought
in God’s image, so I thought,
I’d like to bet that He ain’t got none, mate!
it came out in plain English.
nothing fancy, just simple words
that we all understood and
could interpret our own way.
we had read others’,
some good and some not worth the effort.
everybody had a favourite, or two
and often quoted from memory.
time passed.
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