INCOMING:
Up from broke sleep, legs think they’re still at sea,
head in a cotton wool box adorned with dripping words.
Somebody’s pulled the blinds over Essex since I last
past this way. Somebody’s training it’s monkeys to
dress for the coming of winter. But as I sIt here at
the lap top tapping, porridge steaming & camomile to
remind me I still have a choice, I download a track
from Rick. There’s a chord floating in on an electric
breeze, a kickdrum crossing the horizon. A familiar
bass I’ve never heard before, like the baying of a
foghorn in the night. How does he know how to connect,
straight to the cortex? My throat is not at it’s best,
I’ve started to sniff. The body is telling me it wants
time off, but the feet can’t keep still & now my body’s
rocking, I see words forming, melodies & incantations.
I see a room, like I always see a room, when the music
talks to me. I know how that rooms feels, sounds & tastes.
I know how to move through that room, how to hunch &
swing. The hands are dancing across the keys, but they
want to describe low arcs in the air. Now I don’t care
that the body wants to sleep, that the throat wants
time off & the legs can’t walk straight – too late.
The kickdrum is the dealer, calls me into the wires.
Higher, higher, higher & I’m welling up, damn! This
ain’t cool, but I’m carried on the message, like
‘you bring light’ & ‘it’s ok’. But this one’s darker,
longer, deeper & much, much more Welsh.
(K)
Karl Hyde 
It’s a Scribble…Two Months Off coming? Some time to rest and be, catch up on all the other fingers in pies. How’s that book coming? I.O.W is calling, hug the throat with a coat. Rick always knows what his pardy needs. Have a great day.
The autumn equinox…
The exact point…
In time…
The balance…
Between…
Dark & light*
Language jacuzzi of the day
The direct translation of ‘set the world on fire’ in Swedish is to do ‘underverk’
Underverk = miracle, magic, prodigy, marvel.
The other direkt translation sounds rather destructive. I mean no one wants to see the whole world burning in flames 🙂
On the way home today in my car Ella started to sing the ‘If You Can’t Sing It You’ll have to Swing It’ (Live, Hollywood 1961) and thought that maybe Rick is the one who is making that ‘swing’.
Then, when I came home, I read your post here…hmmmmm… 🙂
You have no idea how much courage it took for me to say those simple words back then & all I got was a feeling that I’m a lunatic.
But I have found that sacred place with doors that only a few can pass and the guards are very picky, checking that every foot that may come through is clean.
John Mayer seems to have the same disease(?)
Checked in exhausted and stuffy today after four days of moving house, first day back at work in a job that…er, isn’t my favorite but it’ll do for now, and I read the last few posts about work, joy, tea, mornings, underverk and Ella. I’m living in chaos right now but I have a mug of tea and my cat, and a clearer head after reading this. Thank you all.