The English Writer
Thoughts to words to thoughts…
The English Writer
Thoughts to words to thoughts…
Thoughts to words to thoughts…
Thoughts to words to thoughts…
‘What are you up to?’
‘Nothing much, I suppose. In fact I should think we’re _up to_ much the same thing, sitting on a bench looking down there’
‘Yeah, good times ay’
‘Well, partially. Who would have known it was the end, that we were sitting on a house of cards waiting for it to come down. And it bloody well did, didn’t it!’
‘It fucking did! The Big Bang in reverse. They called it a bloodbath...
I often wonder how it feels to be a woman. What’s it like to have eyes on you so suddenly. To be given power that you do not want, with a double edged sword of vulnerability that has the most sinister of undertones. You want nothing more than to be alone, to go for a walk. Alone!
All while experiencing 28 days of ups and downs, natural highs and lows. To have to deal with pain that would have a m...
While chasing your ghost I became one myself
A silvery slip of someone else
Someone else I’d long since seen
Fragments in a distant dream
Transient reflections in a stream
Is how I appear now in the mirror
The wearer of clothes chosen by someone else
A matryoshka doll up on a shelf
But which one inside the shell is me
I wish I could forget you and be free...
London, England
September 22nd 1979
A slight, pale young woman stands waiting for the train at Victoria train station.
She’s making her way to Gatwick Airport to catch a flight to Chile via Rio de Janeiro, then onwards to Salas, an uninhabited Island 260 miles to the east of Easter Island.
Rapamycin was isolated from the soil of Easter island seven years earlier, so now teams of soil scientist...
My client, Dennis was laid out on the chaise longue in my office staring up blankly at the ceiling.
For some background, Dennis was a client who’d been brought in from a maximum security prison, though he had no past criminal record. We were trying to get to the bottom of what had happened to the mysterious ‘man on Brighton beach’ as they were calling him. Even though the incident in question hap...
The scars on our hearts are largely.
Imaginary
The ischemas of dreamers
Laid low by the dealers of deception
Peddlers of potent love potions
Manipulators of emotions
The blocked and the ghosted
Once lathered in lotion
Feelings we shared
Dark and deep as the ocean
We sank to the bottom
Loved, and lost it
From wholesome to toxic
Our shared source of oxygen
Became deathly hypoxic...
You’ve caused me many a sleepless night,
Made me rage to the point of (almost) fighting
And left no other outlet
But writing
Typing through the fog of exhaustion
Exasperation
Perfectly understanble, yet inappropriate
Emotion
Misplaced Calvinistic devotion
In an age where one worships only the self
And yet you SAY we are a family
I would be anything for you
If only you would let me
Oh...
Think of a stone floor
Where if you fall from a great height
You will only crash and crumble
Focus your thoughts once more
Hovering over a trampoline, in flight
Bouncing, flying, turn and tumble
——————
Floating like a lonely feather 🪶
Or on the wing in windy weather
Soaring over fluffy clouds
——————
It is only through softness
By giving way to another
That we reach our potential
For eve...
Windows in the aftermath of a war zone
battered shutters hanging on one hinge
Breeze blowing through frames into homes
Glinting shrapnel shards in things
Glass that used to keep elements out
Along with the sounds of invaders
Taking their spoils unimpeded
Rich in the things we once needed
Like bread
We walk amongst rubble and the dead
At least the bombs have stopped
The streets no longer liq...
What a year
Seeing so much
Or perhaps sea-ing
Rough seas
Although often dead calm, shock
Experiencing weightlessness
While bearing an unfathomable load
Like some vast ship, full of cargo
Brimful of baggage
Heavy, yet floating
In the middle of nowhere
In some vast darkness
Beyond the pull of Gravity...