It just struck me as I sit and look out at the milky morning. The nursery kids in the playground sound like peacocks. I love the way the sound of …
Before the word…
… the sound was still full of intent. Before articulation there was expression. But always, there is the sense of an old chap in golfing clothes telling you about young …
RIP Miss Moneypenny
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/skynews/20070930/tuk-miss-moneypenny-actress-dies-45dbed5_2.html
anticipation
It happens every morning when I open the front door to collect the milk from the step. The shock of cold air. The absolute freshness. The silver promise that heralds …
speaking with my mouth
pic to be imported Trondheim, Norway. September 2007. Speaking slowly about wordless narrative, hypnosis and the melancholia of road drills picture (c) Rellaway
whose words when
It was a long week, and as with all quality endeavours, I have no logical sense of progression or process. But now that DT has returned back south, I am …
Soft, lost and submissive
This event occurred a few days ago. I reported the event to a friend by mail, and I canot get the event out of my head. So, I’ll just report …
a political beast
The gentleman who held the door open for you this morning to let you pass in front? He only wanted to follow your backside up the stairs.
The poem made flesh
I have previously scribbled my admiration for Philippe Petit, whose “To Reach the Clouds” I warmly recommend as it is the closest we have come towards removing poetry from the …