Going Cloudy - An Observation

The sun was beaming this morning

well before eight

I went out the back door

felt the freshness of the warm air

turned the corner

and the sunlight hit me

like a gift from heaven

that was then.

now, just two hours later

it's going cloudy.

the sky is white

not a bit of blue to be seen

not even shades of grey

just bright white

the grass looks less green

the trees and bushes too

the breeze blows them into life

and a still image becomes film

to my eyes

a blackbird flies by

nesting material in its mouth

Hamilton

I tried to write about Hamilton

but the laptop Gods didn't allow me

They kept punting me

to give advice to business people

but I wanted to tell the world

or the two people who might read this

that my town, Hamilton,

is a real place

with real people

with real issues and loves and losses

and pettiness and gravitas

and that I love my home town

because it is where my roots are

deep deep down beneath the Cadzow Burn

deep deep beneath even the mined tunnels under

where Hamilton's legendary Palace once stood

deep deep beneath the Museum

and the Town Hall

and the County Buildings

and St Mary's school where I went to first when I was five

and the church of the same name

my roots are deeper than the laptop Gods

more important than advice to business people

my roots are fundamental to the existence of all living things

on this fair beauty of a planet

and they are enmeshed embraced

ungulfed

in Hamilton

which I love

Flow

I didn't expect to be here

it wasn't in my plan

I had no plan, to be sure

but even if I had one

I wouldn't have planned to be here

So why am I here?

Ask yourself the same question.

As Talking Heads sang

How did I get here?

Well that's easy actually

I got her by walking into this room

and sitting down here

That's the easy bit.

The hard bit is

why on Earth did I decide to come here

and do this

and for that I have no answer

but flow

It's all just flow

and when it's all just flow

there's no need for plans

because despite all your fancy, detailed, impressive thinking

it still comes down to flow.

That's why I am here

wherever here happens to be

from one moment to another

til I die

til I die

til I die

Addicted to Books

I don't have books

they have me

they force me to buy them

then they sit part-read

abandoned on my desk

or randomly put on shelves

waiting for me to return

to interest in their subject

occasionally I do

but mostly I let them be

unopened

unwanted

after my initial urgent need

while I go online

to order another book

Quiet

When we are quiet

we are not

When quiet

not

When we are

we are not quiet

When quiet is

we are not

When quiet is us

we are quiet

and quiet and us

become quieter

until only silence exists

The Time is not yet Nigh

The time is not yet nigh

The time is waiting for time

Meanwhile the woodpigeon

Is the rhythm section

And the laptop’s hiss the backing vocalists

I prepare hard to be unprepared

Honing my authenticity

So that every breath seems real

Though I am breathless

And deathless

Nine Photographs

I have taken nine photos

Works of art

Abstractish

Achieves the day

hits the daily rate

Create create

Attain the rate

Nothing much to say

A photo paints a thousand words

Yet I can’t paint a word

The words that lie below

The glamour of our lives

So where does credit fit

Amongst the rural dives

Where swallows beg for audience

And starlings cry for more