do not know everything
only my version

a fraction of the whole
blue sky thinking
here

she said she liked the stories

except I did not tell them

i never tell you much

nor all of it

there are bits left to fill in

yourselves

she said she liked the stories

except I did not tell them
i never tell you much
nor all of it

there are bits left to fill in
yourselves

do not know everything

only my version

a fraction of the whole

blue sky thinking

here

in blue writing
as if
it is important
you see

saw it sailing by

at the night watch

clouds arranged dramatic.

let it go,

oh let it go,

let it sail free

bob

.he had leaned toward me and commented
that i was getting old
and while that is correct i assumed from his
remark that he must be younger

time goes on and i am told that we are much
the same

.he had leaned toward me and commented
that i was getting old
and while that is correct i assumed from his
remark that he must be younger

time goes on and i am told that we are much
the same

he had leaned toward me and commented

that i was getting old

and while that is correct i assumed from his

remark that he must be younger

time goes on and i am told that we are much

the same

Having spelt my name wrong, Bob , I wonder.

Everyone is separate, even with the same programme.

it takes time and patience to be  brave;

to face the consequences, to be         so

bold.



the calculations are seven

struck dumb

i shook to think of you all

looking up as one plane flew over

no words to describe the mass,
the danger of it all, the hate  that
rises.
the parallel,

power house.
bone house.

no words to describe the mass,
the danger of it all, the hate  that
rises.
the parallel,
the home, the black chair.

power house.
bone house.

no words to describe the mass,
the danger of it all, the hate  that
rises.
the parallel,
the home, the black chair.

power house.
bone house.

no words to describe the mass,
the danger of it all, the hate  that
rises.
the parallel,

power house.
bone house.

we dig our selves into the hillside

the time you talk about unremembered.

perhaps I was never there

or unaware

so have dug into this hillside

placed tidily in awareness

of all that is happened,

happening

like flags that are decorative
or bunting that represents a
happy time

dislike borders
representations of separation

you see it reminds
me of the visit to
that house by the mill
where there is a box
to stand on to be able
to see the mountain
behind

"Is art a box that you climb into?”

“Well, yes, I guess it is. I never thought of it like that”

“Are you compartmentalizing?”

sometimes
a while in a box
will do nicely…

sometimes
a while in a box
will do nicely…

the idea left us dancing.

use what is already there,
make do and mend, linen

threads hang heavy, needles
preserved. small holes ready.

shall we mend the rags, or
pin them onto wool pads
ready for discovery.

these are the planning days,
the filming ways, of
lifts and wild imagininings.

the tabernacle wales.
the tannery.

the idea left us dancing.
use what is already there,
make do and mend

the idea left us dancing.
use what is already there,
make do and mend

will watch the film on perception tomorrow alongside
another. red & white.  they say it will change my life.

meanwhile i **** boxes.

he said that we will die,
as all things will die,
go back to nature.

i agreed.

he will remember me.

the whole family,
returned in the evening
cooler, cleared the hay
from the graveyard.

it was hot, so
i layed a cold
flannel on
his head.

dry he wore the white dress
though
his hair curled damply

we drew him
we painted him

he is taller now & remains
much the same

if I had been a boy
would I have looked like him

worn corduroy?

if you had been a boy
would you have looked like him

and we wonder
at the likeness

there.

the gallery who sacked me for such a thing and other reasons

i don’t know

i bake bread and eat it

four slices.



she brought him four slices, butter

on white, fairly thick. he piled it high

with breakfast ingredients, and chips.



an hefty lad, avec  workmates.



she asked if i will like toast or bread

and butter.



the latter and let it be white.



the coffee was milky.

oh.

it is decided after talking to the bear
and eating bread ends
that indeed you may take
what you wish as it is
not only ours

we want to help too
all of us one human heart

the bear noted it is a little
in these circumstances

thankyou

hopefully the bear may sleep a while

now

broke

shattered

broken reflections

of a former life

smashed as it hit the floor

the voices rather quiet. we have had a life time
of listening, yet not understanding really.

so let us go forward and compare

nicely

sometimes I have toast

and sometimes insert one comma

the news has changed

here

while one I don’t know
who is friends with one I do
has been vaccinated

mid wales

she is a carer and they say it is bad there

a backwater

for some reason it has come so in wales
hence more restrictions

messaged to see if all are ok with this
of course , came the reply
and offered me random oats

having a liking for porridge of a morning
with cream and syrup I accepted

nicely

sometimes I have toast

and sometimes insert one comma

tides are higher now, flooding the paths. he walked the mud, bringing the footsteps back to us

soon we stand outside
faces up toward the sun

we will enjoy the natural warmth
set aside the stove for late afternoon
&
evenings

soon the light will stay
with us
longer

my wood store is a plenty
now with variety
of kiln dried
natural
&
eco briquettes

which burn hot
my lovely

though soon
we shall stand in the natural warmth

and breathe

jim

-1°
in dolgellau

becomes part of the
pattern
a mark on the horizon

could change it for another yet it has become
a mantra

a pause like in breathing

lady on the bus told me her sister kept lots of soap and what did I think.

I says she sounds like me.

seems we have a night collection of soap here
new and unused plus
old

some comes dried cracked and faded
other precious still unwrapped

we have scheduled the task today of
sorting and storing it
some still gift boxed
some from the hotel

some has the queens crest on it
told she was indeed a lizard and

laughed

the second episode is tuesday afternoon
was cut short yesterday as the asda man

went to the wrong address
so out on the rain we brought
him in to land here safely

wok in hand

there is a list of chores yet
I remember only one right now

breeze

slipped sideways.

while all remains the same, something is different.

we should look after things
better. i wrote a thing a while

back. it filled my head with
pictures.

some things fade with time,
with sun and washings.

this one remained bright,
even glaring

more down the middle

now, not touching the sides

so much.



limbs hang looser, hardly tied.



it is a soothing thing apart from string,

to walk the higher road.



this is not a metaphor.

it leads to llanfachreth.

brock.



the badger was dead by the side

of the road.





walking,

i passed the other side.





returning on that side i stopped to look.



it did not smell.



it was just dead.



brock.

breaking cups    spilling tea will abuse the hospitality
please come. i have the kettle on.    this is not the time
for hostility

they  do not know the darkness

how the light can fade into latin

& all things unreasonable



today i write of glass and ashes inspired before

then swept by other’s moments witnessed  the cleaning

she goes up early these days,

as if she is involved.

jumping the stairs

and laying head down,

eyes swimming,

brown.


does she know,

does she miss him too,

is that why.

she goes up early,

before me,

and i visit.


until thinking of her there,

i join her

my head down,

eyes

brown

too,

brown eyes too

one way,

and  another.

up poole hill

or down.

you kissed me.