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Posted Jul 13, 2016
Arrived back today thanks to the Moda and the very helpful dmitri G at The Post.
Now to wander off for a squiz and see what's new.
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Latest reply: Jul 13, 2016
Poems I should do something with maybe.
Posted Jul 11, 2008
Outline: Nonsense built on fact. Not a made up word in sight. But there is a made up man.
Title:- Fenced Out. (A response to the Ancient Art of Hedging.)
Piltdown Mans been pleached
Billhooked till the sap weeps
Laid down sideways awaiting
Suckers that emanate, creep.
Hawthorne ribbons the paddocks
Hedging him in, Midlands style
Hethering in hazel twists
Fit for a bullock raging
Poor Pilts’ been plithed
Pleachers crossed flat by crooks
Crop is a stake
Driven into Dawson’s hoax.
I owe the knowledge of these words to a website on Hedging and I liked them so much I made this up on the spot and then fiddled with it for a while and this is the end result.
It's got a ring to it this one and I rather like it.
Title:- DarkEnergy
Outline: A walk with the dog as the Sun goes down.
Stretching........
demarcation line glowing
Dark energy eats it up
Warmth is done
Gone
Stretching........
black pelts sneak out across sight
invisible vanguards for night
creatures, branches, rustle.
Spirits maybe
peek and leer
Stretching........
out a journey from the bud
tree hair drops in loops
life in death
compost of many coats
legs disturb the bark
Barker sniffs the death
one does paw the other
Stretching........
memories deposit
season’s time
New awareness
wakening
Over a hard earth
Hubble's world
burns through the
melancholic throw
Stretching........
out, walking with the roads.
Unleashed snuffler
chasing spectres
dangling lead attaches
love to night
flesh to blood
land to thought
mind to rest.
I think this one is as finished as I can make it (unless someone suggests something of course).
Title:- Saddened by Sunbeams
Outline:- A phone call.
Simple actions cause
the hurt,
shift the scope
or scatter the blame.
A friend rings
home
listen to 'days of her Life'.
Eyes stray outside
through the window.
There watching scenes of earthly splendour.
Tell her to
look out.
See the sun
or its splendid beams.
Wishing for these moments,
take us away please.
Emotions pile upon questions,
terror replaces Foo.
At day's end, beer, wine or tranquilliser,
watch how one becomes select.
I’m glad she called and cried.
I want to hug her now.
This is finished too I think, but perhaps that 'foo' line is a bit vague. I was thinking of the graffiti I used to see where a face and hands was drawn as if peering over a fence or wall and the words: "Foo was here" underneath the drawing of nose and hands. so instead of 'Foo was here' I've replaced it with 'terror was here'.
Hmm...how far do I have to go to explain things?
Title:- Shashtars and Dhambouras
Outline:- This is about Afghanistan. I don't wish to explain too much about it apart from the fact that a Luthier is a mender of guitars or... One that makes or repairs stringed instruments, such as violins.
Blushing in dawney coloured splendour
the Hindu Kush awakens above morning's
murmured salaams. Taru Buz Khan St’s ubiquitous
teahouses are filling. In quickening wisps
and flicks, eyes inside the burqa look out
upon the Bagh-e Babur. Shivers of sadness
waken her, for once again men assail her
sleep and she dreams of killing scorpions.
They damn her for a beggar while feeling
for her sex. Beatings, abuse, shaming pain yet
still she comes to dusty streets, where Babur’s
tomb resides amidst barbarism of a worldly ilk...
"If there is a paradise on earth, it is this, oh it is this, oh it is this!"
Epitaph for a Mughal Emperor; Alms, alms for your soul.
A brotherhood of misery enshrouds the city
as her gentle luthier bereft of slender fingers
shorn for a dogma gone wild, wallows
in nightmares: provider bereft of manliness
scarred stumps denoting cruelty, adrift from
holy ethos stretching before and after Babur.
A bridge broken at both ends and
still she dreams of killing scorpions.
I've done all I can on this too(I think).
I wonder if I should pop these into the AWW or somewhere like that?
Discuss this Journal entry [12]
Latest reply: Jul 11, 2008
Rockwalls and there longevity
Posted May 5, 2005
I build Rockwalls for a living(as well as landscapes etc) and I was sitting back musing with a client recently about how my work would outlive his entire lifes output of work. He is a specialist Surgeon and after he passed me another beer(us working class types seemingly don't get offered Chardoney
)he said "yes it would but when he saved someones life,then that persons offspring would be living proof that his work outlived him".
I said I reckon he was drawing a long bow by that, because who remembers the guy who patched up lets say ...for instance...Winston Churchill after he was injured(in a car crash from memory)I use W.C. because if I said Sir Rodan Cutler V.C, people apart from Australians would have no idea who I am talking about. I guess you could say that Surgeons actions as a whole outlive their corporeal beings, but only as a recognition of their occupational skills as rendered. Where as when I build a rockwall I put my makers stamp upon it(I scratch in a date and a name) and where possible I leave a little Time Capsule as well for future demolishers of said wall(
). If I go further back through time as the eons mount up so do the rockwalls.
The houses,monuments,palaces,towns,castles,churches,villages, they all disappear but more often than not the rockwalls surrounding them or retaining them or constraining them, still exist.
I like the idea of being a topic of conversation in future times,perhaps a bit like the line in Tolkien...'Ahhh thats proper fourteen twenty that is!'(in reference to a golden harvest which produced a great beer). I guess the opposite might occur too!"Who the *#*#! put this ##*####* thing here??
There is a feeling you get when you pick up a stone by hand or even by mechanical means and it just telegraphs to you that it is THE rock for that spot in the wall(Telegraph is a very early means of electric communication for anyone scratching their heads
) This doesn't always happen but when it does you get a thrill sensation tingling through you and you smile quietly to yourself as the rock drops into its obviously pre-ordained position. This is a 'life is good' affirming activity and you just know that from now on in, the rest of the day is just going to rollick along at a great pace as the rocks just fall into place like a Harry Potter incantation.
It's not so much an ego thing, but more a stick it up the types,who as they employ you never fail to let you know just what they do for a living(or not in some cases,(Idle rich buggers
) and then take great delight in relating their position(positions?)in the greater scheme of things. 'My husband has been very successful in corporate law you know' or 'My wife runs a very busy Accountancy practice and i,m sure this job will be tax beneficial!)or 'What do you think of this Housing estate that I have developed'(I built an entry wall to the Estate). It all means very little in the end and I can't seem to remember the last great Property Developer who went down in history as such(unless your talking about some of those fecund bloody Greek and Roman Gods who just made places appear and disappear at the click of a finger or the arching of an eyebrow
)
There is (as in most things) another side to this and this is the appreciative client, the interactive client(within reasons..grrrr.."Hey it's still wet!!! Don't put that there! You didn't realise it would fall like that huh?. You thought it was ok to lift by a tractor jib, a two and a half tonne(ton) sculpture of a ..err..(just what is it anyway?) on to a newly laid wall?
). The "I wish everyone was like this" client,who no matter how badly you stuff things up (through all those little speed bumps that life sometimes places at your unsuspecting feet ) who still enthuses each day you arrive on site and keeps bringing you to a shuddering,tongue lolling halt everytime they brew their homegrown coffee with homebaked biscuits...
. These are the customers that keep you going in the business, they are also the people who reaffirm to you the 'equation' that for every Twit and Tosser in this World who you just wish you could slap a few times with a wet
, there are a direct proportionally multiplied amount of Good honest decent folk who reaffirm your faith in people generally.
While the hands are busy the mind is thinking, it is one of the unsung benefits of manual labour(at least among the ...ah ...less bovine of us anyway
). I don't doubt for one minute that the builders of old when they completed a wall sat back and had a quiet reflective moment as they surveyed the completed job of whatever height and whatever length that they and/or their workers(slaves?
)had built and thought..."this will still stand long after I and all that is connected with me has fallen".
It's a nice feeling when you complete something to your hearts content and then to add icing to the cake you baked(Metaphorically speaking that is
). Someone actually pays you decent sums of money for the privilege!...
Discuss this Journal entry [10]
Latest reply: May 5, 2005
Fridays
Posted Apr 28, 2005
The F in friday stands for fishing day. For well over 20 years I have tryed to keep this day free for fishing and tomorrow is FRIDAY!!! So i,m going to work.....No Way!!! Damm it I cant sleep, so i,m going early to the beach(I drive my 4wd onto the local beaches here and then go searching for the )
Discuss this Journal entry [16]
Latest reply: Apr 28, 2005
Lost in Place
Posted Mar 24, 2005
I like the way this site is set out and run. As a member here you can rely on almost complete anonymity when it comes to your journal entries. Be as virulent and nasty as you wish!
Cast toxic comments and spray vituperitive bile about the place! Go on!!...Do it!! Thats it!! ...See?...Hmmm?...Has the roof caved in? Has the heavy hand of authority come slamming down? No ,of course it hasn't. The reason of course is simple.
In this place no one can hear you, or more to the point, see you! I have trawled some of the home spaces of long term members here and ,...let me tell you it was a complete eye-opener to me! I found members ferreted away here who actually died eons ago and yet their ruminations are still up on the board so to speak for all of us to see and marvel at right now here!! In the here an now!!
Fancy that! Antiquated social commentary's questioning the rise of rebellious youth who listen to those Demon Spawn ...The Beatles. Poor souls lost in an endless loop of early Duran Duran musak and big hair styles. Perverted adolescents who listen to a young and (let it be said rather normal) Ozzie Osbourne!
There are people here bemoaning the popularity of early Bazza Mckenzie Films and the pure pornography of the Oz magazine trials!
Mutant Ninja Turtles and the dreaded influx of American trash tv and cartoons..its all here if you want to spend the time and crawl through the spaces!!
Sad Buggers who voted for Harold Wilson, Your basic British anti-social type who played Cilla Black records and snuck into the bathroom with the cover of their Lulu single to ..umm...practice Portnoy's Complaint.
Absolute losers with pierced noses and Never Mind The Bollocks tshirts. Monarchists waxing lyrical about womens hygiene as mentioned by the odd and future King.
Apologists for reality tv and bland Indian Take aways. Those Anal masochists who think Ricky Gervais is god, plus the equally strange people who secretly play old tapes of All Creatures Great and Small and marvel at the complexity of rural Yorkshire between the wars!
Ahh, the sweet smell of musty, dusty and sometimes lusty Personal Spaces!!!
Gimme a Hoy!! and lets go in search of these lovely nooks an crannies of the oft maligned BBC web sites..
Cheers you figments!!
Discuss this Journal entry [1]
Latest reply: Mar 24, 2005
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