last ones on the allotment
the blackbird and I
tidy up

visiting
ex-colleagues -
the same old mugs

passing information -
from the police van window
after shave

retreating storms -
two blackbirds contest
the allotment

MS Awareness week 2010

It is International Multiple Sclerosis Awareness Week this week (April 26 to April 30).

It seems as good a time as any to remind you I have another blog entitled Dave's Magical Brain (which isn't all doom and gloom, I promise) where you can read the strange and fascinating tale of my MS history and marvel at my personal healthcare statistics.

After you have done all that, you may wish to gaze in wonder at MRI pictures of my brain, or read my haiku sequence 'Limboland' at Scribd.com which was inspired by my journey from relapse to diagnosis and beyond.

Keep posted for more info during the week.

a late spring
the blackbird tries
a different tune

my children
sticking and glueing -
in the drawer
the mother's day card
I never sent

sea mist...
watching the seal
watching me


[published Presence #36]

Raasay, Manchester University geology field trip, Easter 1992.

business park -
spring bulbs emerge
in corporate colours

wrapped round the tracks
my shadow stands
to let the train past


(Published - Shamrock#5)


A long time ago, I lived in London. If I had been staying over at my girlfriend's flat in Kilburn, I would make the morning commute on the North London line from Brondesbury to Highbury. I would then walk through the back streets of Islington to my workplace on the edge of Hackney.

This piece was conceived on the platform of Brondesbury station, the familiar faces of the morning train, squinting through the low sunlight in a polite, wordless, side-step and shuffle to their usual spots on the platform.

Happy birthday!

distant lightning is one year old today.

Very many thanks to everyone who has left a comment, followed or linked to this blog.

Your contributions are valued.

silence
just the wind picking up
distant lightning

('Light' - BHS anthology 2006)
not one of my best, but it gave this blog it's name.

I have just uploaded my Limboland sequence as a pdf haiga at Scribd: http://www.scribd.com/doc/27711229

lullaby
she reaches
to feel each word



(Published: Heron's Nest X:1)

With my *ahem!* scientific background, the following quote resonates with me. I thought readers of this blog might also appreciate it:

"Although it is a grand achievement to have added but one jot or tittle to the sum of human knowledge it is grander still to have added a thought. It is best for a man to try to be both poet and naturalist—not to be too much of a naturalist and so overlook the beauty of things, or too much of a poet and so fail to understand them or even perceive those hidden beauties only revealed by close observation."

From the "Journal of a Disappointed Man" by W.N.P. Barbellion

his dates end
where hers begin -
for a moment
she rests to read
the park bench epitaph



I am just wondering if memorial benches are a peculiarly British thing.

stargazing
with my daughter -
an aircraft
joins   the   dots
of Orion's belt




published: Blithe Spirit 19:4 (current issue)

my earliest memory
cradled
her hair just out of reach -
now the look on her face
as she doesn't say goodbye



like everything else on this blog - work in progress. Been thinking about my Mum a lot lately. Could do with a cup of tea and a catch-up sometimes. Ho hum... so it goes.

flying
full volume -
the rumblestrip drumrolls


(been listening to Sonic Youth a lot on my way to/from work - tearing down long straight country roads)

one by one
the fag breaks end -
the taxis inch forward




(NB: for overseas readers, UK slang - fag = cigarette)

three years on
she still gets about -
my late mother