ABOUT YOU:
You’re electric
A stain on time
A mark
A word for me to find
You’re so complete
You’ve got everything
I think you’ll find
You’re in my seat
(K)
Sunday 6th April
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Author Archives: karlhyde
Saturday 5th April
I DREAMED:
Two ruby lips spoke words I’d written, twisting their meaning,
turning them bitter. It was you, dressed in something brutal with
razor edge, shoulders like landing strips and sharp lacquered
hair. You were straight out the 80’s, pale skin, high cheek bones,
mascara eyes, all attached to a face that had never smiled.
(K)
Friday 4th April
WONDERLAND:
Woke up in a shoebox hotel room, tasting of Thai Curry
& last night’s streets. Buffet without conversation,
poetry had gone to ground. Bottled water & a hang-over
from missing you, the fields & the bird song. Got my
ticket out of town tonight, but I’m following a groove
first, take me down the rabbit hole.
(K)
Thursday 3rd April
LOST & FOUND:
A wallet found on the walk in the park, money and cards gone.
Your name, ID cards, a long way from home. Your face on a website,
a Facebook, a telephone number. Called the number, left a message,
now I’m waiting. Wouldn’t it be something if you turned out to be
fantastic?
(K)
Wednesday 2nd April
STRIP IT DOWN:
Studio dismantled, moved, rebuilt different. Two mics,
two CDJ’s, two guitars, processing & words. Words coming
in from everywhere. Scraped off the streets, unearthed
from subterranean thoroughfares, trains, phone calls,
shopping malls the stories people tell each other, too
loud to be private, they scatter like verbal confetti,
fluttering down onto the pages of my note book. Inept &
inarticulate as I am in expressing myself with my own words,
I’ve spent the past 24 years describing the world through
the collected words of others. Time to pack another bag &
jump into the words stream.
(K)
Tuesday 1st April
CHURCH:
Rhythm of a washing machine with kettle hissing, birdsong and
the clicking of house bones settling after frenzied
morning preparations. Bags packed, music prepped, a note book
& pen. Following blacktop snakes to the station in the low glow
of a gold morning sun. Ride the steely twins to the city of dreams,
catch stories with an empty page, an eye on the sky, foot tapping
to the rhythm of fields as they slip past in fresh Spring livery.
A whispered ‘thank you’ below the rumble of the wheels,
the roll of the carriage, no one noticed, pre-ocupied by
conversation & transient titillation, flirting with the darkness
in the daily news. I look into the light & smile, it’s been a while
since I inhabited your alleys.
(K)
Monday 31st March
THE STUDIO:
Tracing noise up wires strewn across the floor, chasing emails
connected to tomorrow. Returning to the studio for the next
project, as it runs parallel with new u/w writing.
(K)
Sunday 30th March
TURN ON THE LIGHT:
“It looks weird today, like a fantasy world” she said
running up to smiling as I pulled wires out of the trees
to replace blown light bulbs. “how many are left?” she asked.
“None. that’s the last of the party lights”
“What do we do now?”
(K)
Saturday 29th March
3D BLUE:
There’s a soft filter on the world this morning, low yellow light
crossing the horizon makes us squinty-smile. Hedge rows recede
into the distance, shadow puppets in tones of blue, watch us
through the lifting mist, blinking. All the clouds are smudged
today, release their grip on the sky, benevolent offering
pale promise of blue with all it’s summer memories.
(K)
Friday 28th March
THE WHITE & THE GREEN:
The mist delivers diamond drops to washing lines, perfect
in the space between their beats. The mist draws in, conceals
us from the world, imaginary fog horns howl off Beachy Head
to turn the feet of Summer tourists lost in conversation.
Snatched in the final feet away from the green and broken teeth
beautified with glover blooms at edge of the world and the silent
salt washed stone white open arms beneath waiting to receive them.
(K)
Karl Hyde 