June 4th – Trump is coming to town, divisive- loathsome-rascist-climate-change-denying-mysoginistic-wanker-shit-house-excuse of a man. You may glean from my words that I am not a great fan. From here on I will just call him 45, this seems rather fitting on a number of levels:- (i) Two digits is all I would give him. (ii) In some … More 45 4.6 with Fried Chicken
Fifty six – am I really that old The very idea leaves me cold I refuse to be wrinkly just wait & see Botox, colonics, viagra for me Getting old – bollocks to that Receding hairline, just wear a hat Hair grafts, massage, yoga as well Ageing process – go to hell Grow … More June 25th
Were I the sort of bloke given to romanticism I might describe these April nights in Goa as sultry and steamy affairs. The reality is that they are long, sleepless and sweaty. The only way I manage any shut eye is to lie on my bed naked as Adam before the fall with the fan … More When the bubble bursts
The way she danced on a summer evening The shape of her fingers, traced by mine Those eyes that sparkled Perspiration mingling The peace of early morning, Her breathing a song I lost myself there.
Take a look at the picture, some sixties hippie? Actually this photo was taken in 1917. The fella in the photo was one of the ‘Nature Boys’ a small bunch of guys who in the early years of the twentieth century were perhaps what you might call proto-hippies, or forefathers of the flower power generation, and maybe much more besides.
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We are the music-makers And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers And sitting by desolate streams; World losers and world forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems. We, in the ages lying In the buried past of … More Dreamer in the Dream
As humans we imagine ourselves above all other animals as a pinnacle of evolution, but when you really think about it that idea is utter bollocks. I say this because you need only look towards the animal world & there you find infinitely more sensible creatures, take for instance the common or garden Swallow. This little … More South for Winter
I fancy watching a movie, so google away and up pops Mike Leigh’s Peterloo, it looks worth a punt, for the life of me I remember next to nothing about Peterloo from my history, some vague idea about it being about a bunch of blokes from up north with pitchforks, and complaints … More Snowflake in the Rain
Truth Mark Twain said is stranger than fiction, because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities, truth is not. A chap by the name of Louis Hardin that I’ve recently read about seemed to have a life that echoed Twains adage rather well. Louis was born in 1916, in Marysville a sleepy little town in … More Howling at the Moon.
Winter has settled here in London and the clocks tick inexorably towards the end of another year. The people of London who in summer sported t shirts and shorts now wrap themselves in thick coats and scarves and wooly hats. The Cafes that grew in spring and flowered in summer, when tables and chairs spilled … More Gypsy