Blab

I pretend not to listen when you talk in your sleep

Where have I been for so long?

It has been a long time since I was on the blog. Life stuff, you know how it is.
Here is a nice picture which I took on Iona. The more I go to Iona, the more I learn to love God free beauty.

Diane

The first man who ever made love to me
Was 10 years older than me
I could see good and evil in his eyes
When we lay in the sun soak
Wrapped in cotton grass and rye
He was an adult in a corrupt world
That was the truth of it
He was the beginning of the fall
He was a back alley in the early hours
A Pandora's box
A £10 wrap, the spot light and the clap

I have a locket of his fair hair
Here on my breast where you stare

Sabbath Breakers

On Flanders Moss

I saw her walk towards me with the dawn
She moved through the plantation along the old railway line
Purpose and promise without sleepers
It took her about ten minutes from emergence to greeting

In the clearing, face to face
She spoke me with the familiarity of a pastor
She enquired about my journey , my hometown and my day

I told her I was going to walk the Forth to Easter Offerance
She told me it was terribly wet and that I should go easy.
She was worthy and uncomplicated
Like a pilgrim, like a holiday

The lady on the Moss
Had taken the new bridge from Aberfoyle
She had bought blessings and Fresh bread

The clouds were clearing
And hope in spate
She said the river is the source of everything
We wished each other well
Parted
And went on our ways

The Small Isles

She wanted to live on an island
Because she found the continents too big

Having given up hope of eternity
This was the one life to live

Sea

Aqua blue
Blue eyes
Open in the sun strewn blue
A blue dream state
Utopia of the mind
That falls into the light
Of deep descending
The aquatic bird finds freedom
In the indefinite hue
The vast expanse of empathy
In infinity
The endless time and expanse of the fall
That thrills in the calmness of sedation
The touch of blue
Cool on the dawn day
Alone in waters
All alone in the currants and streams
Of this self
Of free falling thought
A body descending through care to comprehension
Like everything ever
Like the picture of the ocean on the apartment wall
Like salmon finding the city
The exquisite freedom of being
All that is blue
Like the weight of water
The instinct of the embryonic state
This semi-biotic fluid of imagination
The total immersion
The baptism
Adoration of this innocent free state
Swirl and swift thrive in the energy
Of submersion
The enlightened
Bends
Clear headed conversion
The cry
The call
The stream
The water falls

Fisticuffs

Words failed them

Barrhead Spring

Climate change

In the days when the elders were more radical than the young
And chickens more lethal than foxes

When there was more poetry in adverts than scripture
And the liberals thought the free thinkers wrong

When people travelled further and knew less

In the days when the pupils knew more than the teachers
And the seasons stayed the same

When water was more expensive than milk
And when more money was spent on insurance than dams and drains

When people had more lovers and more loneliness
It was the songs of the Larks and her friends that kept her sane

The Way of Sorrows

During the long night that followed
In the shadows a woman lent on the knife of her man
Talk to me baby, we can work it out the arsehole said
But she just stared at him and bled

Their friends dressed in wake black
Tied cut flowers to the railings
Her enlarged photo was pasted to placards
"Love now " the words said

We walked down the street in a subdued frame of mind

Thinking about it
We decided we had never knew the deceased
We'd seen worse on TV that very day
Indignation is unbecoming in this day and age
Indeed we felt we had a duty to be happy
In front of all this misery and rage

Uncle Dick Died Last Week

Uncle Dick died last week. He was a market gardener and good friend of my father's. The event brought back memories of Dad. I wrote this. I don't know if all of it is true.

My father was a kind man

In times of war he was not adverse to killing
Or sleeping with strangers

He believed in everyone
Guaranteed no one

SO LONG

Of course after dinner
He wanted to call it a day

The party was over
The festivities done
But they talked well into the night
Lingering on the bottom of the bottle
They wanted somewhere to belong

Never realised
It was all over
Jesus, himself
Was the first to get up from the table
He knew the time had come to move on

The Bothy of Our Love

Duddon Valley June 2007

Heels and Banana Bonoff Pie

You had a fetish for cold sex
Cava
Audio presentations of life's future text

Pomegranate Pavlov a
A mellow mind centre of eiderdown
Sprinkled with red regrets
Peaks and troughs
Your cunt saved me from loneliness

A vegetarian on a black leather suite
Niceness was not your only passion
Wet kisses and sweethearts were back in fashion

We waited for the dining room to find us all alone
Four eyes whispering take me home

Take me home
The sweetest things we made our own
The sweetest love is love home grown

Pissing in the River

My friend told me to go see the old bands. She told me to enjoy what I know so I went to see Patti Smith. She was wonderful, she had a presence, she had such a pwerful voice, she was andrgonous, she was such a strong woman, she was funny and she was nice. She took the time to explore Glasgow and incorporate what she saw in the set, talking about the cathedral and Necropolis in between blasting out classic tracks like Free Money and Gloria.

" I walk up to the microphone and I have no fear"

As the sun went down they started to dance
The light drifted into a hollow glow
The flames started to kindle
The day was a shadow
The night go

Patti Smith

I'm going to see Patti Smith tomorrow. Must think of something to wear.

No one is illegal

I walk my children on the hard shoulder
To the bothy of your love

I shelter their eyes from the camera
When we journey
To the bothy of your love

I will salvage what is warm and dry
In the bothy of your love

I hug my children in the wonder of your love

I will wake before the rising sun
In the bothy of your love

I will cup cool clear water
In the morning of your love

And when the Rowan is fully grown
We will walk happily
from the bothy of your love

Mountains To Climb

On hearing her son had climbed a mountain, mother looked up at the wardrobe.

"How did that chair get up there", she asked.

Hanging Out

If it was not for the guardians of the spirit houses, then all the angels would be dead

To My Mind

I don't mind if you see sex in words
I don't mind if you see freedom in the flight of birds

I don't mind at all

I don't mind if you tell me to shush
I don't mind if your lips want to push

I don't mind at all

I don't mind if my buttons drive you berserk
I don't mind if you rip my shirt

I don't mind at all

I don't mind if you welcome me in

I don't mind
I don't mind a little loving