Tag: Writing
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One Hundred Days
One Hundred Days I made it. One hundred days of posts, of writing things, sometimes good, sometimes bad, most times somewhere in between, which is how most writers work as far as I can tell. A hundred days of discipline. A hundred days of no excuses. A hundred days of trying, making, doing, of keeping…
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Not Writing
Not Writing Sitting here at the desk writing and not writing, wronging, you might say, there is the sound of traffic rolling through the window, continuous wheels on the road that leads everywhere and nowhere. I sit and listen because it’s easier not to do than it is to do, and though the days are…
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Some People Will Bother You
Readings From The Buk Of Life I wish I’d known this man. He would have hated me, but I’d agree with him about that.
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The Dreamcatcher King
The Dreamcatcher King – poem. I have a dreamcatcher. It hangs from my desk lamp; Bright orange, Trailing feathers, A web. A web of dreams. A web made of many strands Radiating outwards. I am at the centre. All my dreams Begin and end With me. In my dreams All things are possible. Each strand…
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Nobody Came
Nobody came Nobody saw Nobody heard my mousey roar Nobody laughed Nobody cried Nobody even bloody tried Nobody looked Nobody searched Nobody found these petty works Nobody cares Nobody likes Nobody, no one. Why do I try?
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The New Normal
I’ve been thinking about what life will look like ‘afterwards’, the thing people are calling the New Normal. Wouldn’t it be good if this New way was better than the Old way? What made me wonder about this was a lockdown re-reading of one of my all time favourite books. John Steinbeck wrote many wonderful…
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Get Ready For The Future
These are such interesting times. In a few weeks, the world will start to emerge from the lockdown imposed in response to this first outbreak of the global coronavirus pandemic. This is what might happen. In a few weeks, we will see the beginning of the end of cash. People will have become used to…
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Nobody Even Looks
Some days you wonder why you bother. You sit and you search and you find them, these unwilling words, you creep up on them gathered there, unaware, lettering your head, an alphabet soup of nonsense, you catch them and you string them together, cage them forever in the prison of the page, juggle them up…
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The Moment Settles
In an obscured room, trying and failing to write. Reworking, rewriting, retrying. Failing again. A pause. The moment settles on me. A weekday morning, alone in the house. Wind blows through the eaves, traffic rumbles and heaves. A golden blade of sunlight pierces the armour of curtain, striking the wall, sparking thoughts. It is late…
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When Words Won’t Come
On the days when words won’t come paint pictures sing songs read writers perform poetry note nature love your other whatever you do don’t just sit there undoing
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Writing Me Up 