14 thousand messages the history of a life

Arcades and boulevards reflections and benedictions

Open and unfold

this page that page all resonate with grief

unsprung the jeremiad sticks to the page

like the watery residue of perpetual tears

relentless

cold

grey

hanging rites

chance to win

to understand

feel good

storyteller of beginning through the window

Float in

Flow out

Let the dust settle

Up on the sixth floor

The written word

Rustles

Wake remorsefully

black out

on the way to the deck

Dream  

of

the darkness

saxophone

daybreaks

Can consume

Unprepared modes

Creep up the lift

Soft step the marble

Images of gods

Transmittable

Transmutable

The firing squad

when the music comes over

you hear notes I hear something else

so this other something what is it where does it come from

but wait

something written in the margin

retreat into the mind

open

forget

in this begin

a new path

new modes of beginning

Nothing is abandoned

Wrapped in a silo                                                                            a coldness now

Milk white memory tidal advance                                                            some semblance remains a bond

Your come and gone over and over again                                        yes to begin again

Streets the same sheets the same

Write a hole in the wall trying to wring some new elements out of the rough escarpments. Standing buggy bound on a frozen plateau overlooking the screaming waste below we espied two lone figures pluckily dodging through the firs.                                                                              outside looking in

A minor road / some hills / shop / out of date / broken windows / dust / sell by.                      rapture       

Punched out heart a botched civilisation stand-alone folly withering decadence                       decay      

Family seat / bleeding refrain / acoustics                                                    tactics of takeover

On the bus now, we’re still travelling after twenty years, but nurtured well the interior life.          

Take to the suburbs or further they all seem to say waltzing through the years chatting about horror and the movies. Mention of the importance of sound design.                                   auratic rubric

Ferris pliant with ghosts                                                                                                     sublunary hymnal

New spirits combing over                                                                                                           coptic

Touching the face

Inside the museum cabinet                                                                                                           now talk

In the Egyptian section                                                                                                          crepuscular

Wet sodden marshlands  / lowland saltmarsh tidal path / half submerged hulk / moss covered bunker / flat eternal peninsular / severed heads dangle woozily along the shoreline / a lone stoner.

through Reading and the Thames Water head quarters
full optimistic at this point
speciality teas available at the buffet car situated in coach F
next the Environment agency
cloud cover by O Yuki
liminal spaces
zones without people
corporate exotica
manufactured ambience
uk endless

a little coppice on top
a rolling hill a plain
like an island
now we are not united
now great no longer
Tokyo Adagio
the children of empire
now old

then the Daily Mail building
slides by
it is grey and featureless
like its readers
ploughed corn fields the last remnants of summer
the faded corn stubs against the brown earths mud
clouds on the horizon hang like
distant shoals of opaque jellyfish
their tentacles draping the autumn horizon
an incessant chatterbox behind me
a golden age of decay
a new empire
as spirit of eden plays

Scorch marks

For Angus Maclise  

The spider that lays waste to the ceiling

Discard the root and roof

The basis of oblivion

The loneliness of obsidian

Numbered response numbness

Restrict proverbs restrict language

Tighten it up

You are without no fear care

Worldliness not

Pursue some

 New ends

A jumble

Sale rest home trance

Words Dance

Brace yourself brace all selves

Hurricanes winds blown together

Moth light squadrons

Looking to bounce out of the hearth

Culture hustler’s crowds

Networker’s / connectors

The war machine

 Response mode

All that stuff crammed into empty storage

Wet rain glistens now the way was blocked

in the empty air a friends voice

The cell

A corridor hurling heavy chairs around at dawn

Heavy brutal Starbucks chairs

Surreal adverts and adversaries

Life in the camp

Multi-screen multi format

Man gets moon dawned

A tragic accident

Stand up if you’re having an intense business discussion in a public

Place it helps with diction / status

Stay tucked in

Streams / varietals

Be epic   

Tan shoed house exist!!!!

Eject the demented emperor

Send him into brown field exile

Open the owls’ eyes manually

Reboot the ghost

Notebooks of

Unreadable hieroglyphs

Metastasis / dreamtime / whirlpool

A collective madness driven by the Other

Snatches of dialogue fragments of pain

Pull them out slowly

Peace by piece

Violently gesticulating under a full yellow moon

Fashion an empire out of nothing

Doing what’s right

Spearheading some interest especially in

A : John Coltrane

B: TS Eliot

C: Cheap days out for the kids

Parents (fill in blank)

An Enlightened One (Yes/No)

Or just positioned in the centre of a fantasy where the central conceit

In fact the only real concept is the money

Global Terror?

Ecological Peril?

A Hair Cut?

The most garish city centre the most vulgarly spectacular spectacle

The Warning

Back then when I hadn’t been anywhere

Standing in a deserted bus shelter in north Essex

The rain and darkness lashing all around

Don’t get on with my parents the house is so small

Me and a brother and a sister

We hustle for friendships warm places cupboards of snacks

We have to entertain be endearing otherwise where we going to go?

So it’s raining and dark in my memory, the searing sonic of cars driving in the rain is the

Background, in the foreground is a cassette tape of This Is Strictly Rhythm Volume 1

Playing on my personal stereo or Walkman as they were known

Now this was escapism, the sound of New York so exotic this music sounded like

It came from outer space, it was smooth hypnotic and sophisticated

Everything about it was incongruous to my surroundings and yet it made so much sense.

That guys voice on the intro to Logics ‘The Warning’ rang so deep I’ll never forget it still sends chills down my spine today over twenty years later

‘Phase three

The judgement

If it were to fall upon you today, which flower would you be

The red rose or the black?

This is the warning’

https://youtu.be/VSKpj_pAb6E