An April Sunday brings the snow,
delicately bouncing against the panes of high windows as I watch the dedicated stride towards the Brynmor Jones, strangers to me as I am to you but although we have not met, I feel I know you.
A jam stained solid oak table adorned with scraps of paper, jottings only I could understand reminding me of the perilous homework
often not completed from my school day...
Saturday 16th May 2020 8:06 pm
Just a book in a charity shop it was
"The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations"
(Third impression, revised, 1943),
Except for a dedication:
"Presented to Miss H C Barr as a mark
Of esteem from her Falkirk colleagues
On the occasion of her transfer to Glasgow 13"
There was a formal stamp in purple:
"H M Inspector of Taxes, 4th December 1943,
Mission Lane, Falkirk, Scotland"...
Tuesday 28th April 2020 11:39 am
I'm dedicated. Not addicted. I'm in control. It's my desicion. I say what And I say where. And if you ask jus rig;;
Saturday 6th July 2019 5:19 am
I write, but I may be wrong
So I cross things out as I go along
Sometimes I will uncross too
Go back, revisit, start anew.
I write, but I may not know
The proper style or way to go
To free the feelings that I feel
And portray them true, with zest and zeal.
I write, but sometimes I ask
What is the purpose of this task?
Does any body realy care
To see and hear what I...
Saturday 6th April 2019 2:44 pm
Oh rise MJ
So they can say
Bukowski's looking down from heaven
Giving the nod to pen of Lemon
Monday 14th November 2016 12:54 am
This is the shell
I am only Human
So is he
So is she
Comprehension wants to know something of the perception.
I am not perfect
The devil strives for perfection.
What do we have to do
Who tested you?
They've been watching me ever since.
Capable of being alive.
Spiritually I am visiting you.
I am jumping around the universe from p...
Friday 1st June 2012 8:42 pm