Friday 19th September

140919

CHASING A BUZZ:

My parcel didn’t show up today, the thing from the North
that makes guitars sound like they’ve been eaten by moths.
I’ve been looking for a thing that’s the opposite of ‘lovely’,
stumble you up, nibble your sound till it’s worm eaten wood.
I found it first in a vintage thing made by Maestro that’s so
expensive & rare & where’s the fun in that? Now I think I found
it in a thing that’s bright yellow with knobs to twiddle, fiddle
for that all importance rotten sound I’m craving.

(K)

Thursday 18th September

140918

ELECTRIC TOURIST:

If you leave or if you stay I will always love & visit
Scotland. Too many fabulous times on memory to stay
away from you for too long. From the highlands & the
rugged coastline of the Northern Shore, to the Glens
& hills & Lochs, all the way into the wild electric
energy of Glasgow Nights I have loved & will continue
to love you, wish you all great joy on your adventures
whatever you decide.

(K)

Wednesday 17th September

140917

BIRDS & DIRT:

A voice on the radio in the kitchen said,
“The high-street is buoyant!”, it sounded
prepared & his cheery veneer jarred against
the ripples of the front line news making
me shiver, unable to figure which was worse.
It should be obvious, but when one could be
the seed of the other I can’t make out where
the roots of global crises lie. Some days feel
like I’m just perpetuating a loop by buying into
this rehearsed drivel.
Outside, birds graze freshly tilled fields
attending to the basics of life & a stillness in
the air attracts me to sit outside & breath in
it’s calm. The dirt vibrates, humming to it’s self
as I reach for a simple pebble of chalk created
over millions of years & pocket it to draw with later.

(K)

Tuesday 16th September

140916

WHAT’S THE CATCH?:

The electric wizard visited his mysteries upon
my dead spangled bass, returning it to life
& rude health. We talked for hours as he poked
& tweaked, listening to music from his dungeon of
dreams. The Eye sang ‘You’re Too Much’ like a vision
of a future Stooges. Then, when he had revived &
revitalised my silver machine, he asked,
“Would you like to play Jimi Hendrix’s guitar?”

(K)

Monday 15th September

140915

NOT SLEEPWALKING:

It’s not that I ignore the front pages or the
relentless bad news broadcasts, how can I not
be aware of horrors inflicted on my neighbours?
I seek balance daily just to be able to take part
in the world, to put one foot in front of the other,
to want to continue breathing. I’m looking for a light,
a little kindness & beauty to counteract some new
corrosive poison concocted in the night somewhere on this
fabulous planet whilst I was sleeping.

(K)

Sunday 14th September

140914

CATCHING THE TAIL:

The wind that waits between the fields greets us on our morning
ride with tiny teeth. The planet moans & rolls, the season turns.
Berries heavy on the bush, Green with flecks of brown, Walnut
sheds it’s leaves & squirrels drop from the safety of their trees
to shuttling nuts across open ground driven by instinct to prepare
for winter.

(K)

Saturday 13th September

140913

LUSTRE:

Last night we left the theatre, just in time to taste
the bright lights. Bars & clubs, queues of wild eyes,
hungry action, the soul food of back when…
Were we thinking the same thing as you turned & stole
my words?
This was our playground, the aroma of a thrill, called
by sirens to sail our little ships on warm electric winds.
Brass, glass, grape & a nicotine breeze. Glutinous colours,
skins prepared, dressed to graze in the black light of
salacious illuminations.
We walked fast, laughing, thinking ‘Home’, watching it all
slide by on the other side, wondering when & how it ever
lost it’s ravishing allure.

(K)