Blurry
Distant
Detached
Never really loved you
But had to experience you
Now, observing from afar
Looking down
From a vantage point
Bittersweet
The child, like the colours of the time
Sometimes orange
Yellow
Brown
The only glow
T.V in the corner
Like a candle in the dark.
There was a time
When photos
Didn’t trigger
Or determine
A flash fire emotion
Or a lazy sensory response
Requiring no effort.
There was a time
When the written word
Or a poignant meaningful photo
Painting a thousand words
Wasn’t replaced by a selfie
Railroading us down a pathway
Where no thought is necessary
And no imagination is required.
There was a time
When the written word could stand alone
Hold its own and speak for itself
Without that illustrated companion.
There was a time
Imagination was key
You heard that song
You had your own personal story in mind
And then you saw the video
And it was all gone, spoilt, in an instant.
Now is the time
Image is key
And photos of a certain type speak
Without need for any words at all
Would such a photo have as much to say
As a book read before bedtime
Would it keep us as warm at night?
‘Do you know what happens to people who set about learning to skate with a determination to get no falls? They fall as often as the rest of us, and they cannot skate in the end.’
‘Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.’
‘She was thinking only that “some other time” had a delightful sound; it seemed to spread itself over the future.’
‘An autobiography is an obituary in serial form with the last instalment missing.’
Quentin Crisp – The Naked Civil Servant
‘Every walk can be expressed as a story narrated by the walker.’
– The Art of Wandering – The Writer As Walker – Merlin Coverley
‘ I had a sense even at that age, of how the majority can submit to the bullying of a few determined individuals, and how a single man can restore to others a sense of the dignity of individuals and the power of a community.’
‘The Rat Race’ means a race where, no matter how fast you run, you don’t get anywhere. I felt bad about the title because, I thought, it wasn’t a rat race at all, it was a People Race, and no sensible rats would ever do anything so foolish,’
You left the window open
So I came in
You had a light on
And it was warm.
You seem afraid
When I flutter
I do not mean
To frighten you.
I seem chaotic
Haphazard
Bouncing around
Just trying to find
Somewhere to land.
I hope we can
Co-exist peacefully.
Now, just a bit of back story
To make you less afraid.
Our larvae spend
Most of the year
In moist soil
We are food
For many animals.
We do not bite or sting
Or spread diseases.
When we do emerge
We don’t even have
Much time to eat.
We have between 10 and 15 days
To propagate the species
To love, to live
That time is precious
It’s like the lifetime
That you have.
In school playgrounds
Boys pulled off our legs
Our legs are decidious
Easily coming away
But even decidious legs
Shouldn’t be pulled away
I know that used to upset you.
We are born to fly
In open skies
I was out the other day
A cloudy, windy
September Day
When the author
Saw me in flight.
They exclaimed
It was so nice
To get a glimpse of us
Outside the confines
Of a building.
Hadn’t seen
A more graceful flyer.
It’s like we’re in slow motion
With an invisible parachute.
The author finally realised
How gentle we were
I’m glad.
Also, we don’t need to be famous.
See you next year.
Things In My Head 