Tag Archives: Love

158.I still can see your face, in the thorny roses. (04 Dec 2016).

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, it’s been a wee while since the last piece posted here. This was never going to be a blog that was characterised by the white hot heat of the … Continue reading

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72.My favourite dancers dying. (‎12 ‎April ‎2015).

This was a fairly easy piece to write for the most part, in terms of the words and how they came initially. But it was an awkward, painful at times, piece to write and to read as it was being … Continue reading

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40.There’s Nothing So Sweet. (July ’14)

Version one of the “There’s nothing so sweet” duo. I was really paying attention to the numbers there. 40.There’s Nothing So Sweet. (July ’14)  There’s nothing so sweet as unrequited, And nothing so unrequited as long lost and gone, It’s … Continue reading

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41.There’s Nothing So Sweet. (July ’14).

This is one of two pieces that share the same title. They are only slightly different, and like people, have more in common than they don’t. But I was reading them at lunchtime today and enjoying the subtle variation between … Continue reading

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51. The Beast in the glass. (Untitled 2). (12 April 15).

Nearly all the piece’s I’ve written I’ve numbered and dated to keep track of any progress. The original version of this was No.3 and dated at May ’13. This is the first real rewrite of any piece I remember doing. … Continue reading

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106. Smiling dancers. 20th Sept 2015.

106. Smiling dancers. (20th Sept 2015). Though the two pieces paired up here were written a month apart they always felt like they belonged together. It’s the bookending of the maternal life cycle and the journey from the joy of … Continue reading

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53. Eyes without lies 2.(Oct ’14)

I’ve been at this lyrics/poetry malarky more or less exactly two years this month (May ’15). This piece is I think the most complete rewrite I’ve done in that time. Version 1 which is the bottom piece here, No.22, was … Continue reading

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86. Smile always if you can son.(10 May 15)

This is inspired by a photo Ange Hardy shared on Twitter this morning so I thank her for the inspiration. I saw in her picture myself with my own mum behind the lens. And I tried to see through my … Continue reading

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72. My favourite dancers dying.

Over the past several years I’ve seen my mother become frailer and more unsure of herself and her grasp on life sometimes. This is my rumination on my own mortality as much as hers. With the passing of an aunt … Continue reading

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