and be forgotten
I am a baker. I have mastered the basic art of survival. I make bread. I put food on the table for my family. My cow provides us with milk, butter and cheese. I brew ale and use the yeast which is a by product of the brewing process in my bread. Bread cheese and ale are all I really need. The wheat for the bread is grown in the fields around my house and is stored in jars I keep for the purpose. I keep pigs and hens and sometimes catch fish and wildfowl from the rivers, fields and woods around me. This is all hard work. My back is bent and you can count the years in the lines on my face. Soon I will die and be forgotten.
I am a baker. I buy the flour, salt, butter and yeast from the supermarket. I like baking my own bread. I do it for my own personal satisfaction and not out of a need to feed the family. Survival is not my game. Occasionally I cook meals using the finest ingredients money can buy. I spend my years getting the most out of them. Laughter has lined my face and I like to drink ale. I have time on my hands. Soon I will die and be forgotten.
the North East wind blows
Chill descends over city. Wind from the North East. Norway. Siberia maybe. Sideways glance into alleyway. Homeless man huddles. Dirty sleeping bag.
Wind direction for him not good.
Did not stop. Climbed hill home. More coal on fire.
What is wrong with world?
Gaia accepts returns
I found out recently that someone who lived nearby had died a few months ago. I had not noticed the passing of this person. I doubt that he will be missed by many if anyone, other than perhaps his wife. Another leaf fallen from the tree of life and reclaimed by Gaia.
first victim of winter
We on this planet, we are all the same. We all have the same basic needs. Food, water, shelter and good health. This applies whether you’re human or wild animal, in this case hedgehog. A lack of one of the basics has led to its demise. I almost wrote untimely demise but who is to say what is timely. We all want a long and happy life but we all have to go sometime. When that time comes has a strong element of luck. This guy ran out of luck. It’s worth thinking about the hedgehog for a short while and then moving on. If the body is still there tomorrow I’ll move it into the flower bed where it can be scavenged or simply decompose, away from the full glare of the kitchen. Goodbye hedgehog. Although we never knew you we liked you.
OFFICIAL. BIG BROTHER REALLY IS WATCHING YOU! WHERE WILL YOU HIDE? YOUR EXPERIENCE OF CHILDHOOD GAMES WILL NOT HELP NOW. THEY CAN SEE BEHIND THE SOFA AND UNDER BUSHES. A BEDROOM DOOR IS NO PROTECTION. YOUR EVERY MOVE IS BEING TRACKED BY BOTH FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL. THOSE WHO SEEK TO PROTECT YOU ARE UNWITTINGLY TELLING THE BAD GUYS WHERE TO LOOK. WHO IS GOOD AND WHO IS BAD? WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO HIDE?
just me and the music
The Duke plays quietly in the corner. The band’s eyes are shut, concentrating on the job in hand. Focussing on the music. Soul. I can see the Duke caressing the piano. The drummer, lost behind his dark glasses, is in his own separate world.
It is now totally dark out. Here in the conservatory I see the reflection of my screen on the glass. Removing my glasses the eyes get a rub. My eyesight is too bad to type without the specs.
The bassist absentmindedly tugs his strings and stares into the distance.
I am contemplating a quick trip to the pub. The working week, for what it was, is done. I will pick up where I left off on Monday. It will wait, the work. Anne and John are somewhere in the house. I am cut off.
A trumpeter breaks in. My head nods. Foot taps. Eyelids drop.
Welcome to my world. Come in. Sit down and say nothing. Talk is superfluous. I feel my chin. Need a shave. It’s the weekend. It will wait, the shave.
Guitarist now picks up the pace. The band’s heads all nod rhythmically, intently. I tap the table.
Suddenly I am awake. My mind feels it needs to do something. Think. Pick up some words and spin them with my fingers. Reflect my mood. I can see them dance in front of me. The darkness hides the walls. It’s a huge field in which to play. My head continues to nod.
I can feel it raining out. Hear it not see it. What it is like to lose my sight. My mouth opens. Sounds come out. Talking to myself and to the music. How long can it continue
Two white horses in a field of green
What is the nature of their conversation
Nice bit of grass this morning
I like the way it is more refreshing with the dew on it
Who’s your favourite horse film star?
That’s going back a bit
I like the old stuff best
They don’t make em like they used to
time of year
Getting cold out. Warm coat time. Quite nice though. Wrap up well. Hat, gloves scarf. Stout walking shoes.Thick socks maybe. Roaring log fire. Butter drenched crumpets. Sunday roast dinner. Nights close in. Brandy inner glow. Cuddles on settee. Three’s a crowd.