Bad News
This first update after a long absence attempts to explore the emotions and atmosphere around receiving bad news, hope it makes you feel something 😉
A man.
A man and an empty room.
And a single blade of light from the street lamp cleaving the curtains in two.
And the growing darkness in his heart.
And the crippling absence of calm.
And the calendars ominous chant. “Beware the ides of March”
And 11 o’clock has passed.
And still no word from her.
And a forced sense of assurance
And a reminder of endurance.
And a momentary smile.
And a mental instruction not to think.
And an ominous ring…
And a frantic clawing at the pockets to retrieve that thing which has chosen at this crucial moment to the pocket it will cling. And at last the phone is freed!
And an unknown caller ID.
And a terrifying state forseen.
And slowly the call is retrieved.
And an existential detachment from the room.
And a memory of 21 birthdays in June.
And twice daily ‘I love you too’.
“Mr. Brown I have some bad news”
I watched them walking
This will be my first post in what has felt like forever, sadly an ever increasing workload from uni has meant I havent been able to update the blog as much as I’ve wanted to, but here’s something to let you know im not dead, its a piece I wrote a while ago called “I watched them walking” Enjoy!
(Image taken from and courtesy of: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/blog/wordpress_uploads/2011/01/Pinnacles-stars2.jpg)
I watched them walking, nay trudging,
Their footsteps rang out like the drums of witch doctors,
Their passions and wills played out like matinés
In the eyes of those whose minds were stolen.
And I watched them swim across waterfalls luminescent
Blue moons their shining light, their star in the east,
No they did not heed Neptune’s cold grip nor northern winds
Which set to stray them from their path, their million man march
To the ankles of she whose eyes are darker than hades’ shadows
Yet shine like morning stars.
And her feet will circle o’er Africa’s streams like gold hoop bangles
Round those sought after ankles
And ebony sighs will fill that house when our triumph avails at lunar noon.
And their children no more shall be fearers of the dark,
For the beasts thereof shall descend as one to the valley In which those people sojourn
And in tandem harmony worshiping her humblest of majesties.
For she IS the mother,
And her warming embrace is constant with love for all her kin.
And she will beckon more lovers to her Pangeic womb
from lofty mount to plain and jungle and coast.
And there she will look upon all her children before it is all too late,
And stare lovingly into the depths of their minds
Her loving gaze intoxicating wine
Just a bunch of poems really... 
