HEART BRAKE

I'm working slowly on updating the autobio. But meanwhile, nuggets of poem-like things suddenly pop into my head. I might or might not illustrate them. Here's the latest.

HEART BRAKE

That one
wears his heart on his heart
like a badge.
It says
THIS IS NOT A HEART.

But if you believe it
and turn away
the badge stabs
its sword
into his heart
and he cries.

STOLEN FLOWERS

You gotta love a man
who brings you flowers
little white ones
cut from a neighbour's hedge
with nail scissors
he carries for this purpose.
A passing taxi driver
saw him doing it
and he was ashamed.
You gotta love a man
like that.

INTERNET CRASH

Internet connection went down for nearly 48 hours and it was like having a limb cut off.

No it wasn't. That's a wild and foolish exaggeration. It was a damn nuisance and of course I assumed it was all my fault, my computer's fault, and everything was going to crash. Moreover there was spectacular thunder and lightning last night.

So I backed up everything to my external hard drive, just in case apocalypse was at hand. Hard drives survive apocalypses, right?

Back to normal now.

HELLO

Some sounds I made can be heard here.

And some moving pictures, already posted before, are assembled here.

INS and OUTS

A non-sequitur occurred to me. Here it is, for want of something more relevant.

INS and OUTS

When couples break up
it's often because of an in
or a whole list of ins
for example:

Infidelity
Inequality
Inattention
Insensitivity
Incomprehension
Inflexibility
Intolerance
Insecurity
In-laws

And when they look for a new love
they simply delete the ins
so their wish list
looks like this:

Fidelity
Equality
Attention
Sensitivity
Comprehension
Flexibility
Tolerance
Security
Optional in-laws

MORE POETS

On Thursday night upstairs at the City Pride pub Katy Evans-Bush and friends celebrated the launch of her truly marvellous poetry pamphlet Broken Cities. She is one of the winners of this year's Poetry Business competition and Astrid Alben and John Clegg joined her to read from their own new work.

I was happy to be there and to meet a few faces I'd only seen on Facebook before. Unfortunately the roar of trains outside the pub window blurred my already dodgy hearing and I had put the aids away because wearing them makes the world invade my head like Genghis Khan's army.

Never mind - I read the poems live on the page and the poets' voice spoke to me.
And I took some photos.

Katy Evans-Bush

John Clegg

Tom Deveson in foreground. I don't know the others' names.

Astrid Alben

POETS AT PHOENICIA

Ramshackle, unpretentious, seriously attentive ambiance and audience at the legendary Torriano Meeting House on 9th July. Grateful to have been theret to hear my friends and colleagues, excellent poets Dick Jones and Dave Bonta, reading from their respective books: Ice Mountain by Dave Bonta and Ancient Lights by Dick Jones.

Their publisher is Phoenicia, created, animated and independently run by writer-artist Beth Adams and photographer Jonathan Sa'adah from their studio in Montreal.

Dick Jones

Dave Bonta

PLANT LIFE AND PAST LIFE

Today at a local garden centre, surrounded with beautifully chattering plant life, a tiny moon-coloured cactus type of thing humbly asked for my attention. It was named, the label said, Echevaria which sounds Paraguayan and reminds me of Mexico and I love the pale moon colour and it was only £3.99 and weighs almost nothing so I took it home. I can only offer it a kitchen windowsill but I think it will be happy.

I'm taking up my online autobiography again, after a very long hiatus, and hope to have a least another chapter up very soon. If anyone wants to browse previous installments of The Burial of Mickey Mouse, they're here.

BACK TO FRONT

Writing backwards is not as easy at it looks.

Neither is the fact that you only ever see yourself backwards.

POETS GALORE GLITTERING

Life-enhancing evening at the British Library on Thursday in honour of Gwendolyn Brooks.

See George Szirtes' page for full description. He was one of the 20 poets who ran up to the stage and made the air vibrate with the music and passion and integrity of their words and their personalities.

I was a spectator but it was impossible to be an outsider in such an atmosphere of belonging. And the fabulous colours! I took some photos.