Part Three

Pt3.

I looked in the direction I was dismissed, toward the head of the beast. Many ill growths protruded from its back, each leaving a trail of dark smog that was whipped back in the wind shear and slowly sank back down to the join with what lay on the surface. I thought I could make out the head of the beast; it was a mere dot on the horizon. The beasts head must’ve been over a mile distant, it would be some trek before I’d get my answers.

As I set off I noted how odd it was that this could be the same writhing mass of energy that I perceived from the ground. It was so still to walk upon; the only movement I could feel from the beast was a small vibration beneath my feet. It was as if I was walking along some massive stripped and shaggy road. Albeit one that was occasionally despoiled by ugly boulders. If it weren’t for the constant billowing of the wind I’d struggle to imagine that we were moving at all. Yet due to this unstoppable breeze I was feeling quite the chill. I pulled my coat closer around me, digging my hands into my pockets as I lent slightly into the wind.

Approaching the first node on my way to the head I saw movement. Shocked I stood to stare for a moment. There was a small grey creature that had two eyes plumb centre on each side of their head, which itself looked oversized for its body. The movement that caught my attention was the head suddenly twisting so one of the eyes could stare unblinking right at me. Its egg shaped head was rounder on top, tapering to a thin neck. Its round eye in the centre of a dark grey ovoid gazing deeply at me was perturbing enough but as I drew my eyes away from the stare I noticed other oddity’s about these creatures. They looked like small children, there grey skin hairless and were dressed in dirty loin cloths. It was their hands and feet that truly disturbed me, for where I would imagine hands to be the wrists and ankles narrowed to shallow hooks that it used to cling to the side of the lumps. No other features could I spy on the smooth heads.

There were three on the growth next to me, all eyeing me, all perfectly still. I looked out to other growths, there was more of these little grey creatures. For what I could see no protrusion was free of them. The other creatures were not still on their respective nodes, they moved in a swaying stop start motion about the protrusions. They would occasionally pause at certain places, I can only assume that they were tending or feeding off of the gross nodes.

I felt as though they were examining me for potential threat, coiled and waiting to pounce if I dared to show aggression. I had no desire to be attacked whilst on the back of a beast which was floating several thousand feet in the air. So I gave them a wide berth as I edged around them they followed my movement eerily twisting their heads to keep me as the main focus for one of their eyes. My shoulders stooped a little as I realise my journey to the head of the beast had just lengthened, for I would have to pass several score of these strange nodes. Still I soldiered on; no destination was ever arrived at by remaining still or wasting effort on fretting about the journey.

I received the same disturbing reception at each protrusion, every time a shiver slid its way through me when as one they stopped to stare. It felt as though just by passing them they took a little from me. My reserves of energy were waning; I started to at first think and then lust for some sustenance. I could not remember my last meal or even a time when I was so famished. The walk was turning into a stooped stumble. My mind started to wonder off to tangents dark and unpleasant, flashbacks of deeds I was most ashamed of crept through my mind. I had survived two long wars; there was much in my mind that if I dwelt on could lead me into a deep ravine of depression that I knew would take me years to function properly. I had led men, some of them good and decent folk to their deaths. Each face now came before my eyes, pale of skin and scarlet of blood.

I had to blink, screwing up my lids hard against my eyes to get my focus back to the path I was walking. I noticed that as I walked past each protrusion the sensation of woe became stronger. Things I hadn’t thought of for years were leaping across my mind. My father dying of a liver complaint, my mother’s non-stop weeping for being left alone, my wife’s death from the birth of our first child who himself was stillborn. It was as though every hurt that I had ever felt were fresh again and competing to weigh my heart down. I do not know what it was the kept my feet moving forward maybe it was something deep in me that knew I had grieved for all these things. Yes each new image hurt but as each new wave swept over me I knew it could not hurt more than it did when it happened. I could feel that it lacked rawness. The greater my bodies desire to stop the less I allowed myself to cease my forward momentum. It was my loving wife that aided me in this, the fresh hurt from her passing allowed me to force other memories of her into my mind. She had always said that I was a stubborn sod.

I started to pick up my pace, my stride became more confident with this the images were fading from my eyes. Now as I strode past the strange grey things I noticed that there were less of them on the facing side of the growths. Now my eyes would focus less on them and came back to my goal, looking up to see the head of the beast now only a few hundred yards from where I was nearly brought a tear of relief to my weary eyes.

I past the last of the protrusions at a near jog, so eager was I to finish this heinous journey. The creatures head was massive, easily the size of a very comfortable room; neck thinned a little and was certainly rounder than his flat broad back. The first step upon his neck I slipped, tumbling down the side of the neck. My guts churned at the acceleration of a falling body, I flailed my arms behind me gripping tightly to the thick fir, dangling from the very side of the neck. Walking along the flat of the back I had no reference to see just how poor my town shoes were at gripping the fir. If it wasn’t for the abundance of his long fir I would’ve fallen from the beast and into the gloom that whisked by below.

I climbed at an angle as so I wouldn’t have to navigate the neck, pulling myself, tired, hungry and thirsty to a stop in the centre of the beast’s massive head. I lay for a second catching my breath. Then a rumble like thunder said. ‘GREETINGS BARTHOLOMEW, YOU HAVE JOURNEYED FAR AND I KNOW YOU HAVE MANY QUESTIONS; WHICH I WILL TRY TO ANSWER BUT I’M AFRAID YOU’VE COME HERE NOT FOR ANSWERS BUT BECAUSE I NEED YOUR HELP.’

               With that I started to laugh.

Continued in pt.2...

I crawled on my one hand and knee’s for an indeterminate amount of time, the concept of minutes and hours faded to be replaced by the halting repetition of shuffling my knee’s forward with a brief pause to move my supporting hand along. I noticed that the texture of the floor became gritty, I’m sure that I was starting to shuffle through sand. A dim refracted  light was starting to reveal the floor and the walls of the tunnel. It was indeed sand I was crawling through, it was coarse and yellow with the walls of the tunnel were dark grey rock. Confident that the arrival of light into this narrow tunnel was a declaration that the end of this uncomfortable journey I picked up my pace.

Poking my head out of the exit to the tunnel a desertscape presented itself. The gently undulating sandbanks were punctuated with large mounds of the same dark grey rock that I had just crawled through. They rose abruptly from the ground more as if placed on top of the sand as supposed to it forming from the ground. My view was foreshortened by a black fog, with visibility of over a mile impossible.

I stood from the tunnel, my journey here thus far having made perfect sense to me I was suddenly overcome by the strangeness of my predicament. A wave of nausea plumbed its fathomable claim on me as I staggered a few steps forward. I struggled to comprehend just how it was I came to be in this foreign and alien land. Just as I could feel an incomprehensible rave start to work its way through my body I was dumbfounded by what my eyes took in. A gargantuan reptilian head writhed its way through the dark smog. It was easily thirty yards across, teeth and rough scales protruding unkempt from its face. What’s more it was clearly over one hundred feet from the floor and travelling at quite the pace straight for me.  I had little time to wonder at the even thicker beastly body that contorted behind the monstrous head as the very same survival instinct that saw me through two bloody wars kicked in and I ran for cover.

The gust of wind that battered my body as it passed over me, still some distance from any cover, knocked me clean off my feet. I turned on the floor to at least see my killer, but the beast seemed quite uninterested in me. I watched yard after yard of scaled body pass before my eyes, details were hard to make out due to the pace of the beast. I perceived the occasional limb which seemed somewhat redundant as the beast seemed to use its body to beat its way through the air, much like some of the snakes I’ve witnessed swimming it the tropical regions of the far east. After several minutes of me lying on my back staring at the body of strange animal pass not too far from my head it started to thin leaving a whipping tail chasing the rest of it. I stood to look after it disappearing into the murky sky.

Dusting myself off I came to realise I was quite out of my depth, but thanks to my innate survival instinct and my hardy demeanour I dusted myself off and went to retrieve my abandoned coat and hat. For panicking now would not help any chance of me living to see my beloved home again. I must try to retrace my steps I can remember thinking, amongst several prayers to any god whom might have the inclination to be listening to me, for where I came in should surely lead to my way out. Picking both out the sand and dusting them off, I put them on whilst looking for my footprints in the sand. My heckles aroused as I sensed something approach me from behind. I turned to not only see another behemoth loom through the mire of sky but dozens. These beasts were different in composition but most similar in size. I saw what looked like elongated big cat’s to misshapen horses, a myriad of beasts completely alien yet disturbingly familiar were all twisting their way across the sky. I was in awe of this sight.

With so much to take in a once and with a little more perspective between me and the animals I was better able to take in the details of them. On each of their backs were sickly protrusions, which looked like vast tumours of ill growth. The smog that beseeched this land poured forth from these growths leaving inky trails settling in the beasts’ wake. I noticed that they were weaving close to the rocky outcrops.

A familiar grating voice told me to ‘Climb.’ Rending me from my observant reprieve I glanced about to locate the girl. She was nowhere to be seen, but I deemed I should follow her suggestion. I ambled up to the rocky mound that I came out from; looking for an easy path up, it wasn’t a difficult climb. As I neared the top I looked in the direction that they were flying in from and saw that a beast like a huge malformed tiger was flying in my direction. I could see what might be described as a pained expression on its face.

‘Climb.’ Her voice came again.

‘I cannot get higher!’ I declared to this world. No sooner had I finished shouting I heard an unearthly scream berate my eardrums on many different levels. I staggered as a burst of tinnitus whined through my ears. Looking up I saw what looked like a much smaller version of the reptilian airborne beasts was stamping its way toward me on long stick like limbs came across the sand. Maybe it’s an ingrained knowledge from our early animal years that told me that I was very much prey to this very hungry predator.

What sounded like the rapid and heavy beating of wings encroached on my hearing, I turned to see what looked like a massive ladybird hovering a few meters away. ‘Are you still confident you made the correct decision?’ Her voice was clear in my mind yet the whine of my ears was replaced by a rage of noise that was the wind shear from the great tiger like beast passing very close by me.

‘What are you?’ I shouted over the noise.

‘You could not begin comprehend the answer when you’ve more pressing matters at hand, now climb before you’re food, climb!’

The rapid thud of the smaller beast brought my attention back to my immediate surrounds. It was yards from where I stood; quickly I rolled to the opposite side of the stack. It’s monstrous head peered at me as it curled it’s neck around the rock. Clinging to the rock with my fingertips I scrabbled for foot purchase finding it just as it lurched for me snapping at the rock where I was just clinging I kicked around the rock leaping and pulling with every fibre of strength I had. It was twisting its body around the narrow stack of rock while trying to find purchase of a descent lunge at me. Hurriedly I began to think, I couldn’t keep climbing around this rock I could feel myself tiring already. Where could I go? As I rounded the rock I saw my escape, the tiger-like beast, the long fur of its body was rustling past the very rock I was on. I leapt for a handful of it just as the smaller more dangerous beast snapped at my legs grabbing a mouthful of my long coat. I was thankful for its sharp teeth as they neatly sliced through my coat as I whipped away clinging to the flank of flying behemoth.

‘Climb.’ Her voice taunted me again.

‘I’ll give you bloody climb in a minute missy.’ I muttered under my breath.

I tried to inch up the side of the beast, standing on the ground each loop and twist of the behemoth’s looked stationary as their long bodies passed though the same point but it was all I could do to clutch to the side of the body as I was thrown about somewhat as the beast whipped through the air. My hat was long lost in the ferociously beating wind and whilst I was glad for what warmth my coat could provide its drag though the air weighed heavy on my arms. Just as I thought that the strength of my arms was wan the beast arched up to shoot to the skies. A jolt of adrenaline was all that my body could muster to aid me to cling to the deep fir; the acceleration it put me through was breathtaking. As it levelled off the beast stilled to a gentle glide above the murk that had enveloped the land.  Grabbing tufts of fir and clamping it between my feet I shimmied up the side of the beast.

As I crept on to the flat back I looked up to encompass my new surrounds. The dense cloud of smog appeared to cling to the surface of this world, dumbstruck I stared at the crimson sky; it fell to a deep sanguine at the horizon with an infinite array of strange stars penetrating through past the glare of a huge white and pink moon. The ruffle of my hair brought my senses back from the vastness of the sky. Thin trails of smoke gently fell from the foul nodes running down the length of the stripped body. The head of the beast was small in the distance, it was soaring straight and true. I could make out in the periphery of my vision other massive beasts breaking the surface of the murk all around, though they seemed not to stay above for long.

Closer afoot the ladybird was clamped to the back a little ways up from me; I felt steady enough to stand on the massive back. It was time for some answers. I strode toward it and as I took a breath to speak she unmoving said. ‘Answers, answers. First questions you must find. He wishes to speak with you.’ And with a twin flick of her antenna dismissed me. If answers I wanted it wasn’t from her that I’d be getting them.

Short Story Time

Supply & Demand

Pt. 1

The little girl intimidated me greatly. I say little for she was small in size and very youthful in complexion yet she exuded years of experience and gave the distinct impression that she could dominate me physically. Not the petty anger of a child who thinks they could destroy you, yet achieving nothing more than to bruise your shins but the cold confidence of someone who knows from a combination of training and years of putting it to use knows how to cause you pain. It was this and the air of challenge, that she'd enjoy very much to show me she could that left me highly perturbed whenever we met.

She sat opposite me, in a red thick felt over coat with a black ribbon holding her dark hair away from her pale face. I thought it odd that she should wear such clothing indoors for her compact busy little study in which, dark green leather and near black hard wood furniture that was an underlying theme to that of mass papered clutter. It was this office where we always conducted our meetings; it was stiflingly hot as always. My own heavy winter coat was hung on the inside of the door I came through, my top hat I fingered nervously in my lap.

Her lids were closed and she would've looked serene if only her eyes would remain still underneath them. Frantically they moved, as if tracking a torrent of leaves in a heady gust. So it was with quite a start I flinched to the flicking open and sudden probing stare she gave me. Her irises were large and black taking up most of the eye; she could well induce vertigo with the perceived depth of her stare. She smiled at this and then spoke with her gravelly, grating voice that was painful to listen to for too long. 'You've returned for another package. It is too soon.'

'If it is too soon then I would kindly request that the next package is larger, for I perceive an opportunity to increase trade for both of us. It has incurred quite the reputation amongst my customers, selling out well before our regular meetings. You are quite devilishly hard to get hold of outside of our allotted time.'

                ‘The timing of this request is ill, for it takes much to obtain what you desire.’

                ‘If you would allow me to assist you I would gladly share the burden of this task.’

                ‘No, this place is not for you. You are a construct of great fragility; I would need someone of great power to be my assistant. This is not you?’ She spoke in these riddles often, much I have made of the conversations we’ve had in the past, she speak a denial in one sentence whilst ceding to my will in the next. With little to make of the words she spoke it was more of the skill in translating how she told you. In the last statement I could detect a tone of challenge, so it was with little trepidation that I pursued her further.

                ‘You speak of power, I am a man of cast iron will, through two hard wars I’ve fought and never was my spirit broken though many a man about me crumbed. I’ve a hearty constitution, not taking the ills of this world both physical and moral. I’ve a true influence over people who can make a difference to at least seven countries. And as for being of fragile construct, I am no more or less fragile than yourself.’

                My ostentatious little speech drew a smile to her lips; she seemed always amused by me.

                ‘Greed shall always be your downfall.’ The way she pronounced “your” felt very much as though she wasn’t just talking about me. ‘Pray tell just what it is that you do with what I acquire for you?’ She leaned unblinkingly forward slightly to wait for my reply.

                ‘The people I sell it to tell me it is a delightful pleasure drug, I have no tolerance for such things, but they are willing to pay great sums to obtain small amounts.’

                I remember that this was the first time I heard her laugh. It was truly ghastly. It sounded like crumbling chalk. That laugh would stay with me.

                ‘It has so many uses, you do not realise what you sell so cheaply. You are a fool to think I would let you come with me.’

                I shall not hide the fact the fact that I am quick to temper, this was no exception. I stood to leave, one arm reaching out to gather my coat to me.

                ‘So this is to be an example of your iron will? It shall make a fine one.’

                I made to open the door, my hand resting on the knob. ‘My dear, do not mistake this for a weakness, I merely came to enquire if another transaction was possible, you’ve been clear in your intention.’

                ‘Have I? You may accompany me this time, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you. Be careful now, I wouldn’t want to lose my favourite customer. Temptation is everywhere.’ She slid off her chair to a stand; she was half my height near exactly. A smile played on her lips, as she opened the other door to her office she spoke over her shoulder. ‘You may wait whilst I ready myself for travel.’ Then she disappeared into the gloom of the adjoining room leaving the door wide open.

                I was unsure whether she meant for me to wait in her office or the room to which she had left door open to. Curiosity got the better of me so, coat and hat in hand I followed, precariously, into the darkness beyond her office.

                The only source of light in this room was diffused from a green velvet gaming table. There were two gentlemen concentrating on the cards in their hands and on the surface. Just to their side were two grand armchairs, one was empty; the other barely contained the quite the largest man I’ve ever witnessed. My eyes struggled to take him all in, not just because of his impossible size, but from the fact that he barely moved, it was only the thick volumes of smoke the poured from his nostrils that belied him a statue. Sitting in the chair he looked compressed, his knee’s reached to cover three quarters of his chest. Where his elbow’s touched the arm rests they forced his shoulders up near his ears; with one of his arms passing behind his long calves steadying the bottom of a pipe, the ornately carved opposite end was held by his other hand allowing his mouth to clamp over it. A tall hookah pipe stood between the two chairs.

                The air in the room was heavy and thick, I had the strongest desire to sit down yet no notion as to what backwards was, thus the only option that represented itself was the one beside the smoking giant. The smooth leather creaked as I settled into the chair, the two playing cards paused glancing at me briefly then haroomphed and muttered back to their game. A sticky sweat trickled down the small of my back, ice compared to the heat of the room. The giant registered not my presence, merely continuing his slow, deep inhalation followed by the steady, acrid exhalation of syrupy, white smoke. Grey predominated the man. From his suit and shirt to the colour of his skin and hair, it was as if his was carved from stone or moulded from ash.

                Waves of pulsing heat were attacking my eyelids like a pack of baying wolves taking turns to bring down their weakening prey, with each blink there was a danger of them being brought to a close. I was just about to let sleep takes its dominion of me when a so subtle jolt of realisation worked its way through my immediate neighbour. Like a glacier’s crawl his eyes turned to meet mine. Locked into his stare I could focus on naught else, my mind was a blank, a sheet of paper free in a storm had more chance of being written on than I had of moving my body in that passage of time. All was lost to me until the business end of the hookah pipe broke his stare. No words were said but I knew to not accept the pipe would be a grave error. Placing the dry carved wood between my lips in taking a deep pull on my lungs what felt like cold air washed into my body. I thought I’d done it wrong, for surely there could be no smoke in my body. As I exhaled I was shocked to see such a volume of smoke venture forth. Tastes of cherries and brandy filled my senses, a rush of blood purged clear my mind, I felt detached from my body, yet more together and physically ready than I had in years.

                Just as I thought I was getting used to this feeling I saw a light turn on through a doorway opposite my chair. One of the card players grumbled but didn’t look up from or stop fussing at his hand of cards. Through the door a rhythmic and wet spluttering was matched to a metallic clink. What looked like a tin box with wheels rolled into view stopping with a loud splutter that made it sag onto its wheels. It was mainly red with black squares running in two horizontal strips ran around it. Upon a more determined inspection I spied that there was writing on the side of it reading “London Bus”. It was a most peculiar thing.

I stood to get a closer look at it, gathering my coat and hat from my lap and allowed my feet to lead me. When I came within about ten strides it coughed into motion, turning down a hallway. I stopped in surprise, as did it. Every step I took closer it appeared to maintain the distance. I took I should follow this fascinating little device weaving its way down the corridor. When it came to the foot of the stairs there was an open cloak room door. As it ploughed between the coats in the cupboard the noise abruptly stopped. I quick stepped forward and dashed the coats apart.

There was a broken hole in the wall only slightly taller than the wheeled box. Squatting over my heels I peered into the darkness. I could see no end to the hole, but bizarrely I was going in. Far from my mind at this point was waiting for the girl, my focus was to follow. So I mopped my brow with my pocket kerchief and replaced it, fitted my hat securely to my head and folding my coat over as small as was comfortable I clutched it to my person. The hole was just my size at a crawl if I ducked my head down. It couldn’t be described as comfortable but this seemed of little import as I passed the entrance.

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It’s been a long while since I’ve posted anything, but fear not, alongside the horror that is moving house I have been crafting hard on this little number. A short story. As these things have their tendencies they run away with themselves, so instead of waiting until I’ve finished I thought I’d pop it up in parts. Hopefully it’ll just be two, but it might spread to three.

Big love.

Musical Delights

Discovered Joy's

Resonations of taught skins beat,
What's this I hear? New sonic treat,
Primal joy instantaneous flares,
Catch moments through high-hat snares,
Hunger as elements form in merge,
Hearty bass gifts euphoric serge,
Strings action invisible dance,
A joining of no random chance,
Enchanting vocal melodies move me,
Still no longer time for groove to see,
Caught in the rapture of fresh delight,
New pleasure found, no same old shite,
Possible configurations must be done,
Yet musical paths have not nearly begun,
So it is with open and eager ears I long,
For the discovery of the next new song.

D*ckheads

Car Horn C*nts

Blare your turbo charged air horn,

Escape hastily my wrath of scorn,

You speed by inches from my side,

That I've slowed you dents your pride,

Eager you are to shave four seconds,

Surely your destination heaven beckons?

For what other reason should I demand,

Such foul treatment from anothers hand?

There's no clarity of answer can I punt,

It must be that you're a human runt.

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I spend a fair amount of time on a bicycle per week. Now 99% of drivers who pass me are nice folk who give plenty of room letting each of us go about our business without feeling the need to intrude into one another's lives barring a nod or wave of cheer. This poem is not for them. You might have worked out this is for those who feel the need to get on the airhorn allowing me to know, if the sound of there chugging to over revving engine failed to alert me, that they are indeed behind me and that they are angry about this. To those that feel that need, I hate you all. This poem was inspired by one in particular tw*tbag whom chirped his lack of humanity at both me and Mr. V humbly making our way to Brighton (a kickass ride it was), but is for all of you.

Birthing Pool

Re-birth

From drunken intention

Came simplest invention

Time of year irrelevant

Need simple elements

Friends should gather

Of those who'd rather

Refresh their lives

Take iced dives

Watered circle form

Pants on head norm

Go willing no shove

Gazing surface above

With breath taken hold

Reward for those bold

Reawaken those of earth

Reformed from a rebirth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Needs no explanation. Well not in my eyes.

Groove

Dancin' Highs

Dj's crank the noise box to eleven,

Rapturous seekers of octave heaven,

For here it is found, here it is met,

Twining of folk who eagerly sweat,

Relentless heat of dance floor passion,

Stops no inebriant body funk fashion,

Shapes thrown in discoland aplenty,

Created, lowly class to landed gentry,

Launch your moves to each fresh beat,

Wait to drop unhindered rhythmic treat,

Bi-decked steel, puppet masters control,

Reach for the lasers, let the good times roll.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For many, many sweaty dance floor nights. 

Cornflowers & Rapeseeds

Path of Beauty

Endurance of a short sharp climb;

Reveals the renaissance road bounty,

Vibrantly colours freshen our eyes,

Joy spread throughout this county,

This gentle slope downward unfurls,

Great haste made with small ease,

Weaving around rolling hills it curls,

Resplendent 'neath scattered clouds,

Merging high spirit and proud lands,

Ours is this road to enjoy, to absorb,

Yet we travel to find it in so few hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was inspired by a wondrous yet epic cycle journey mit Mons. V, a section of the Salisbury plains where one side of the road Cornflower bloomed bright blue and to the other Rapeseed sprouted a delicious yellow. With scattered yet still impressively large clouds fluffily going about their business above it felt like we were in a scene from a renaissance painting. Delightful.

Cloudscape

Sky Caravan

Hefty caravan's cargo life's precious trade,

Tempestuous breath hasten deliveries made,

Farewells of the sea's each tear has bade,

To rise up and cast down cooling shade,

We scowl to be hidden from beloved heat,

On these isles each second deemed treat,

Create your warmth, throw up hands to greet,

For only their water can flesh out our meat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For all the lovely fluffy clouds out there in discoland.

Cycles

Epic Journey's Made

Plans are set in motion, gears turn,

Across this land each mile we earn,

Sensing achievement pure satisfaction,

Yet thought strange by larger fraction,

With heavy load up hills we grind,

Focused destination, free our mind,

All day ratio applies, set steady pace,

Everybody wins who joins this race,

As the hills roll by I fear one doubt,

Silent prayer, hope knee's hold out,

Push through barriers pain brings,

Soar across roads on wheeled wings,

Freedom of travel, journeys enjoyed,

Destinations arrival high spirits buoyed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the road between Cardiff and Brighton.

Summer Wonders

Lovely Sight

Visions of heaven befall my gaze,

Blooming pleasure of sunny days,

Where were you when skies were grey?

No thought to care, for now they stay,

For you behest attention of my sight,

Each exquisite vision trepidations delight,

Chance to court in my daydream state,

Temptations each more a dizzying rate,

Spoilt for choice, lie back, enjoy the view,

With every pass obscuring my mind of you,

So smile and soak up the dazzling day,

For one of you might let me in to play.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspired again by the delightful weather and my very own eye wondering whims.

Delicate Steps

The Art Of Balance

It is with confident grace,

Each foot you must place,

In this world so manic,

Small disruptions of panic,

Words cause butterfly motion,

Struggle to find soothing lotion,

But motion must be made,

For stagnation must evade,

Or our thoughts be soured,

All freedoms be devoured,

So practice, be smart,

This most delicate art,

Of balance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Square Eyed Cyclops

Idiotbox

Tune in the brain.

Turn all thoughts the same,

Tune in to the broadcast station,

Turn to mental masturbation,

Be programmed by big brother,

Learn only from it, not another

Human being slumped subsistence,

Eeking out shallow existence,

Unshackle yourself from this master,

Save yourself from true disaster,

Experience this world for real,

Know it's speech; it's feel,

Find for yourself true reward,

And of yourself do not horde,

Find love and challenge your mind,

With the happiness you'll surely find.

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TV common denominator musings.

Absence of Riddled Software

Sunshine Haze

Prolonged sunshine haze,

Kissing sun to amaze,

Breathless fallen wind,

Heat refused rescind,

Yet still it's lapped up,

Our thirst for a full cup,

Sight of horizon lost,

Who cares the cost,

When the sun is here,

Make efforts to cheer,

For on these isles,

Rain rids smiles,

Its ever present threat,

Smile, the sun shine's yet.

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It has indeed been a while good chums. I blame in the utmost a number of evil viral infections my computer acquired whilst innocently browsing the intersurf highways and byways. This most unfortunate position rendered me incapable of blogging, a most worrying state to be in. None the less my computer has been scoured and is safe again, albeit for how long is a much shrouded and highly perturbing mystery. Fear not for my poetic progress, whilst I may have been absent I have not been idle, so I present my work during the enforced interlude. This one was inspired by the superb weather we have had of late.

Peace.

B-Town

Brighton Bounty

Check this out!

Good friend does shout,

From the handstand nation,

To sea brains of the operation,

Though topsy turvey,

Not one ounce pervy,

More admiration of technique,

Than bare faced cheek,

Good times assured in Sussex county,

Reaping the wheat of Brighton bounty.

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A good friend moved to Brighton a few years ago, with his lovely lady friend and many resplendent trips have been had down Brighton town since (and Hove). The inspiration for this cheeky number came from the very first trip, the first time in a good while when the lads got together to cause a serious dent in the number of alcoholic beverages of that good town. And dent we did, with an all day sesh and a power hour thrown into the mixer the subsequent re-birth launched the meaning of this right up in my grill. One love B-dog!

Word

Shattered Habit 

Idle hands work, yet another drink poured,

Joint fresh rolled, pleas from sanity ignored,

Repeated routine, the same old here's,

We live for the moment that spans the years,

Fooling ourselves that this is a good path,

Notice not its grasp, slow poisoned heart,

While those good times hold, we sit, we laugh,

Proclaim that our great stupidity's smart,

Stagnation where wisdom should grow,

That day of dreams shall remain ever elusive,

With our minds left wild, left too long fallow,

Nothing from procrastination turns conclusive,

It's time to put those hard etched habits away,

It's time, for me at least, to seize this day.

Boo Drizzle

Miserable Isle Weather

Is this the power of nature?

A limp rag of weather smears the land.

Nothing to inspire awe, enforce respect,

Just a test of patience, dour to withstand,

The lurking threat as offensive as the act itself,

The promise that cancels most outdoor activities,

So it is to the inner world we turn our views,

Remain chipper of sprit, fester new creativies,

With these new avenues of joy to explore,

Discovery of fresh complexities expands pride,

Helping to forget the dire drizzle of our country,

But just remember, when it's sunny, go outside.

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After that much super shiny sun time the inevitable British weather machine churns out some extra arse drizzle for all to enjoy. Ooh it just makes cycling those miles between work and home that much more fun! But I suppose with no down there is no up. Peace.

The Last Of The Stockpile

Word Smithin'

Word smithin' with my favourite ally

From the ether these words I pry

Cloak and dagger as the boss might spy

Disciplinary, questions why?

Expand your mind these lines I try

Let your thoughts take to the sky

Arching through clouds free to fly

Cannot I have this to help me by?

No.

Back to work hippy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is indeed the last of the stockpile, well I say last what I mean is last that I deem good enough to put out to the electronic public. You will see a noted dip in posts, by my reckoning about two to three postings a week. So save your hurried, must see, cutting edge clickings up for a mini poetry break at one point in your week. I'd recommend a nice cup of tea, even if you drink coffee, a relax and let the words work their magic. Big love.

Shattered

(avoiding punctures)

Cunning's the daggers of roads we travel,

High times of the foolish they do unravel,

Always alert of eyes, these traps to spy,

Their numeracy a test of patience to try,

For getting anywhere on roads unscathed,

A task; amusement for the misbehaved,

Each scattering a trial, tribulations bore,

Shards swept, for eager replacements more,

With their taint befouling the land insipid,

Easy to let rage engulf, speeding thoughts decrepit.

Be swift of motion, with perceptions keened,

To avoid the dilemma's of miscreants weaned,

Ready your packs for to travel is a must,

To keep a soul sane, sate that wanderlust,

But carry a repair kit, prepare your load,

For there will always be punctures out on the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Believe it or not this was written after getting a puncture! Well it was my first one in 9 months of riding to work so I shouldn't be too peeved, but the amount of glass out on the roads now is silly. Don't people know how to use bins? Or more importantly recycle? Jeebsquous, bloody heuligans.

Late Delivery

A Time To See

To stand still in this frantic world,

Begets remarks of hatred churl,

As they rush so pure of goal,

I exclaim, do you not see this whole?

So desperate you are, to want to get,

That you cannot possibly have found yet,

That beauty of this life we hold.

With fear and pace they turn old,

To forget the joys of a world laid bold,

Natures activities are its gold.

To be witness you must observe,

A steadiness to still its nerve,

With the exuberance of calm,

Cede to possibilities of inquisitive charm,

Receive delight, a gift that humbles,

Those city wide, shallow gaited stumbles,

To those lives of haste I wish to sway,

For ten minutes out of your hectic day,

Is nary too high a price to pay,

So bestill yourself, watch your stay,

Warmth of reward for this delay,

Will colour your life in wondrous way,

Noting if this time luck gifts you sorrow,

Fear thee not, there's always tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is Friday's post a wee bit late. What can I say? Friday night, lengthened of light with half a fart of wind and some glorious sun shine with someone awesome uttering the magical word 'Bar-Bee-Que'. It was time for some meat, heat and love with drinkies to biggedy boot. Big time. And what a splendid spread it was! :)

Glory Days

Unhidden Joy of Sunny Days

Cradled in the warmth of her mighty gaze,

For light to enjoy her world I give much praise,

Days like these open the conquering of quests,

Stretch out my mind to discover new tests,

Smite the daemons that darkness does bring,

This is indeed a day to run, to laugh, to sing,

Smiles are creased into faces all around,

Comfort in these lengthened days abound,

So put down your burdens, come walk with me,

Adventures in this land our pleasure to see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To mark the Bee-A-Eutiful spurt of weather we've been having a poem fresh off the press. Few things are nicer than a wonderfully sunny day :)

Work?! When the Sun Shines? Madness.

Unnecessarily Necessary Tedium

Bored, I must conclude,

Do not let sleep intrude

As the repetition starts to grate

My mind frays at a worrying rate,

Knowing the next;

Line of text;

Has been written for me,

Lack of input to write and be free.

Eyes to the horizon, await the weekend,

Where freedom lives and my mind can mend;

The evening too temporary a reprieve

To repair fully, I believe;

Thoughts dragged back to the idea of tomorrow

Knowing the same shade of grey, fills my sorrow.

Institutioned to the corporation is a growing fear,

With each day is a step too near.

So I fill my mind with ideas grand

Sate the urge of my imagination's demand.

Happy here in my dreamscape

From my tedium it's my escape.

The form my fear now takes, the delusion,

That my dreams shall remain illusion;

Have I placed the bar too high?

As this fear looms I sigh.

Fatigued from the long road travelled

Hoping truly that my mind's not yet unravelled,

Knowing that I've still to cover many miles

Before I've passed these trials.

So to my next step I look to place,

Responsibilities of effort I must face

To excuse the sacrifices I've made;

The price weighty, I'm sure I've paid

It's time to ignore the fears in my mind

The reality of my dreams I'm sure to find.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well what a sublime day it was today :) Mons. Sun had his hat and his corn cob pipe firmly on and in, whistling a happy tune for all to enjoy (no small task mit a corn cob on the go, but the old shiner has got himself some mad skills). It was truly glorious out there, so looking at it through a window whilst sitting at a desk was unfair to the utmost! Personally I think that when it gets over a certain level of shininess all work should be optional; with full pay (invest in sun cream companies ;). At least the cycle home was a true joy and the climb after a sweaty mess. Much fun to be had on such days!

Poetic Discipline

Misplaced Blame

A sonnet for good friends whom I love as family.

I stare up at you through eyes of shock,

Why was it that you allowed me drop?

You were supposed to stand as my rock,

To catch my stumbles, to help me stop,

But I fear I've garnered too much weight,

Asked you to carry much against your will,

Now my burden has affected your gait,

It came to you to offer that bitter pill,

Hoping that my rave it will help to sedate,

Knowing well this timing will always be ill,

I find again, I have misplaced my blame,

For now I see through heavy eyes of shame,

Fault does not belong at your door at all,

Next time I'll try that much harder not to fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was an attempt at a sonnet, I nallsed the rhyming scheme right up but have, more or less, hit the syllabic count so for a first attempt at a recognised poetic structure nee too bad. This was also written just after a sizable climbing fall, with the original purpose of saying 'Hey bud, it's not your fault.' but then evolved, as these things do, into something a little deeper. As I know I can be a bit of a mental and emotional burden more often and not, so I just wanted to put into form that I'm trying my hardest buddies! That and everything my friends do for me is always much appreciated, even if it may not seem that way at the time :)

Muff respek.

Sunny Weekend

Climb on?

I thought;

Just in case I should,

I knew that I could,

So I thought I would;

These things must be done;

Now it has begun

Can it be halted?

Can it be faulted?

Held high exalted?

Nary a cheek insulted?

Fingers may bleed,

To sate the need,

To climb so free,

Me and thee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the last weekend in Cardiff cracking open a fresh tin of sunshine I ventured out with my seasoned climbing buddy for our first of the year outdoor climbing sesh; I thought this little number most apt. Big love.

Colourful Language

My Favourite Colour

You could spend many an hour,

Extolling the richness of reds,

With their seductive scarlet’s,

Captivating crimsons, moody mauve’s,

Beguile to me the beauty of blues,

The multi-tonal hues of the sea’s,

The ethereal majesty of the skies,

Naturalist’s out there might make a case,

For the crumbly, earthy browns,

Its affluence of life clear for all to see,

A few among you could even twist my ear,

To the golden qualities of yellow;

Attack me at a weak spot opting opinions orange,

Or even try your hand to convince,

That purple through violet is where,

I should be plumbing the depth of my affections.

What’s more is, at most, I’d agree with you,

On every point you propose,

I’d linger in the joys of every shade,

Absorb their virtue for all they can give,

For all they add to the spectrum's beauty.

Yet, when all is said and done,

My favourite colour, is still green.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was written after a polite rejection, my heart was tired of shallow excuses when reading between those gaping lines I just wasn't her cup of tea. A perfectly understandable thing but dressed up so as my heart sees hope where hers thinks things have been sown up nicely. This is probably as far as it'll get with the whole heart issues; otherwise we're in for some serious angst, which is no good for person or piglet.