Way back in 1973 I wrote a poem that was published in an duplicated poetry magazine called Vole. In 1987 in a house fire a lot of poetry and books were burnt but I saved some scorched poetry magazines. In 1995 I threw away all the poetry I had written along with some unpublishable novels etc. Then of course a few years ago I started writing poetry again and wished I hadn't burnt my stuff. Two weeks ago I remembered the scorched magazine and I performed the following poem yesterday (and 10 days ago at Manky poets)
Some P Poems
'Nothin's gonna change my world'
you did
Cliches are useless
I have lost you
I'll mail me through the post
For I am a poem
Je suis un objet poetic
It was early very early
And I walked the streets
Of Calais crying
No longer have I you
All I have is the experience
In no way can our love
Be wiped out
It is stronger than our memories
Longer than our lives
Nothing can stop it
To travel is to suffer
At times
To live is to suffer
I love to live
I live to love
Love
Imagine me walking the streets of Calais
at 5 in the morning
Tears streaming my face
Imagine me asleep on the ferry
& awakening to find you
Not with me
Imagine you and me
Together again
Imagine love
Monday, 31 May 2010
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Poem, I still carried away
I still get carried away
Years ago
Walking in Alexander Park
I was captivated
By the blossom on a pear tree
And lifted out of my grief and depression
I was transported to another world
Of bliss and rapture
Where everything made sense
And no questions needed asking
Before they were answered
Coming back to normal life
I wept tears of gratitude
40 years later I still marvel
At those trees
And I still get carried away.
Years ago
Walking in Alexander Park
I was captivated
By the blossom on a pear tree
And lifted out of my grief and depression
I was transported to another world
Of bliss and rapture
Where everything made sense
And no questions needed asking
Before they were answered
Coming back to normal life
I wept tears of gratitude
40 years later I still marvel
At those trees
And I still get carried away.
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Mystic detective(5)
[creative writing]
Mystic detective(5) meets with Percy and Micky
Finally Paul and Percy meet face to face. Whatever expectations Paul had about Percy – and there were many - were confounded by that first meeting. There was areal dishevelled quality to Percy. It was not just that he needed a haircut badly (so did Paul for that matter) and a wardrobe makeover (ditto) – ‘my would the TV experts have a real field day with him’ thought Paul. It was also that this outer mess that was Percy was mirrored by something inner. Percy was a man who could hardly complete a sentence let alone hold a thought together.
This was in such sharp contract to Paul’s experience of Percy’s wife Brenda who was so neat and together despite her worries about Percy’s disappearance. Maybe opposites attract or maybe something had happened to Percy, something perhaps that involved OM? This was one occasion in which Paul’s laid back style of interviewing needed to change.
- So Percy – do you mind if I call you Percy-
- No… that is I mean… Yes please do
- So Percy in your own words tell me what happened
- What happened?
- Yes, how you came to leave Brenda…
- Leave Brenda… uhm…. I didn’t
- OK tell me about OM
- OM?
- Yes OM
- Well, I …er hmm… I started going to their classes cops I was stressed up about work and needed to relax and my GP suggested yoga or something…
- What happened?
- What happened?
- Yes what happened?
- Well, er… I started going to the early evening class on Thursdays…
- Yes?
- Yes and it felt good at first… definite improvement… more relaxed… and …uh what?
- The OM yoga classes felt good and?
- Oh yes they told me that I needed to do a retreat at their ashram…
- In York?
- Yes
- Why?
- Why?
- Yes why?
- Oh… er… yes they said that I would get even more benefit from a retreat. This seemed to make sense to me… at least at the time
- Did you tell Brenda about this?
- No…. they told me not to… said she would probably talk me out of it.
- Would she?
- Yes and I wished she had!
- What happened there?
- Oh… er .. hm.. yes… what?
- What happened there?
- (In a strange stilted voice lacking any affect) The OM Ashram seeks to promote world peace through inner harmony and prayer.
- Percy what’s happened?
- Whatdyermean?
- You just spoke to me in a strange voice
- Did I?
- Yes
- Oh
- You said ‘The OM Ashram seeks to promote world peace through inner harmony and prayer’
- Ye-es that…is… right
- Percy?
- Yes
- Percy what happened at the ashram?
- Hm… what happened at6 the ashram?
- Yes, what?
- It was calm and good
- Calm and good?
- Calm and good
- Why did you leave?
- I dunno, I wish I was still there.
Percy started weeping. Paul as usual felt awkward and this was something different
- Do you want to see Brenda?
- Yes… but I can’t (sobbing)
- Why ever not?
- They… they… wont let me (sobbing louder)
- Wont let you?
- Wont let me?
- Why ever not?
- Because… because they sky is blue it makes me cry
‘Oh fuck’ said Paul under his breath.
- But you do want to see Brenda?
- Yes
- OK leave it to me.
Percy was clearly in some hell of a state and needed care, although there was some risk in involving Brenda at this stage it made sense to Paul even if only to get the best possible help for Percy. Brenda would surely see to that. There was very little more that Paul could learn from Percy but that was not the end of the matter. There was still the question of what OM was up to, what OM had done to Paul himself and to Claudia and of course the vulnerable position that Paul’s friend Frankie was in. It was clearly time for Paul to speak to Micky Flynn.
Next morning in Fuel Micky joined Paul for a post breakfast Americano.
- On the QT we have had our eyes of OM for some time (Micky had this curious and old fashioned way of expressing himself)
- Oh yeah?
- Yeah but there is nothing we can p[in on them… their accounts are squeaky clean… but
- But?
- Well this is strictly between you and me (Paul nodded) God if it ever got out I was talking to you in this way I would be for the high jump…
- Strictly between me and thee
- Strictly… well a few people have needed mental health treatment following a stay at the ashram
- Really?
- Yes, but the OM people who include a medic or two have always argued that they attract a few punters who are in their words ‘volatile’ and so they can’t be held responsible…
- It begs a few questions
- It does indeed but they get everyone who stays there to sign a disclaimer
Paul nodded for he had signed such a form himself
- What about ‘donations’?
- Well they have had a few large ones including one from your client’s husband Percy.
- And?
- And well they argue that if satisfied customers want to donate to their OM Foundation what is wrong with that?
- Hmm… I’d like to see their balance sheet
- I thought you’d might but their latest accounts aren’t due for another 6 months and the previous year’s figures were not that striking
- Hmm so what do we need to do?
- Keep a watching brief. At least your client’s husband is well out of it
- True but I worry about Frankie and his alleged daughter who is well mixed up with them
- Keep me posted
- Will do
Micky left having raised more questions than answers even if he had supplied some useful background information. The next, indeed the only step, seemed to be via Frankie and Claudia but how best to handle it and what was the link between OM and the fascists? Time for a long bicycle ride trying not to think about things but letting the matter stew on the mind’s back burner if that was not a mangled metaphor!
Mystic detective(5) meets with Percy and Micky
Finally Paul and Percy meet face to face. Whatever expectations Paul had about Percy – and there were many - were confounded by that first meeting. There was areal dishevelled quality to Percy. It was not just that he needed a haircut badly (so did Paul for that matter) and a wardrobe makeover (ditto) – ‘my would the TV experts have a real field day with him’ thought Paul. It was also that this outer mess that was Percy was mirrored by something inner. Percy was a man who could hardly complete a sentence let alone hold a thought together.
This was in such sharp contract to Paul’s experience of Percy’s wife Brenda who was so neat and together despite her worries about Percy’s disappearance. Maybe opposites attract or maybe something had happened to Percy, something perhaps that involved OM? This was one occasion in which Paul’s laid back style of interviewing needed to change.
- So Percy – do you mind if I call you Percy-
- No… that is I mean… Yes please do
- So Percy in your own words tell me what happened
- What happened?
- Yes, how you came to leave Brenda…
- Leave Brenda… uhm…. I didn’t
- OK tell me about OM
- OM?
- Yes OM
- Well, I …er hmm… I started going to their classes cops I was stressed up about work and needed to relax and my GP suggested yoga or something…
- What happened?
- What happened?
- Yes what happened?
- Well, er… I started going to the early evening class on Thursdays…
- Yes?
- Yes and it felt good at first… definite improvement… more relaxed… and …uh what?
- The OM yoga classes felt good and?
- Oh yes they told me that I needed to do a retreat at their ashram…
- In York?
- Yes
- Why?
- Why?
- Yes why?
- Oh… er… yes they said that I would get even more benefit from a retreat. This seemed to make sense to me… at least at the time
- Did you tell Brenda about this?
- No…. they told me not to… said she would probably talk me out of it.
- Would she?
- Yes and I wished she had!
- What happened there?
- Oh… er .. hm.. yes… what?
- What happened there?
- (In a strange stilted voice lacking any affect) The OM Ashram seeks to promote world peace through inner harmony and prayer.
- Percy what’s happened?
- Whatdyermean?
- You just spoke to me in a strange voice
- Did I?
- Yes
- Oh
- You said ‘The OM Ashram seeks to promote world peace through inner harmony and prayer’
- Ye-es that…is… right
- Percy?
- Yes
- Percy what happened at the ashram?
- Hm… what happened at6 the ashram?
- Yes, what?
- It was calm and good
- Calm and good?
- Calm and good
- Why did you leave?
- I dunno, I wish I was still there.
Percy started weeping. Paul as usual felt awkward and this was something different
- Do you want to see Brenda?
- Yes… but I can’t (sobbing)
- Why ever not?
- They… they… wont let me (sobbing louder)
- Wont let you?
- Wont let me?
- Why ever not?
- Because… because they sky is blue it makes me cry
‘Oh fuck’ said Paul under his breath.
- But you do want to see Brenda?
- Yes
- OK leave it to me.
Percy was clearly in some hell of a state and needed care, although there was some risk in involving Brenda at this stage it made sense to Paul even if only to get the best possible help for Percy. Brenda would surely see to that. There was very little more that Paul could learn from Percy but that was not the end of the matter. There was still the question of what OM was up to, what OM had done to Paul himself and to Claudia and of course the vulnerable position that Paul’s friend Frankie was in. It was clearly time for Paul to speak to Micky Flynn.
Next morning in Fuel Micky joined Paul for a post breakfast Americano.
- On the QT we have had our eyes of OM for some time (Micky had this curious and old fashioned way of expressing himself)
- Oh yeah?
- Yeah but there is nothing we can p[in on them… their accounts are squeaky clean… but
- But?
- Well this is strictly between you and me (Paul nodded) God if it ever got out I was talking to you in this way I would be for the high jump…
- Strictly between me and thee
- Strictly… well a few people have needed mental health treatment following a stay at the ashram
- Really?
- Yes, but the OM people who include a medic or two have always argued that they attract a few punters who are in their words ‘volatile’ and so they can’t be held responsible…
- It begs a few questions
- It does indeed but they get everyone who stays there to sign a disclaimer
Paul nodded for he had signed such a form himself
- What about ‘donations’?
- Well they have had a few large ones including one from your client’s husband Percy.
- And?
- And well they argue that if satisfied customers want to donate to their OM Foundation what is wrong with that?
- Hmm… I’d like to see their balance sheet
- I thought you’d might but their latest accounts aren’t due for another 6 months and the previous year’s figures were not that striking
- Hmm so what do we need to do?
- Keep a watching brief. At least your client’s husband is well out of it
- True but I worry about Frankie and his alleged daughter who is well mixed up with them
- Keep me posted
- Will do
Micky left having raised more questions than answers even if he had supplied some useful background information. The next, indeed the only step, seemed to be via Frankie and Claudia but how best to handle it and what was the link between OM and the fascists? Time for a long bicycle ride trying not to think about things but letting the matter stew on the mind’s back burner if that was not a mangled metaphor!
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Mystic Detective(4)
[creative writing]
The mystic detective awoke with a sore head. ‘That was strange I’ve not been drinking last night’. He put his head under the cold water tap in the sink - that usually worked with a hangover. It had little effect this time but then again it wasn’t a hangover. ‘I feel like I’ve been drugged’ and he remembered a rather strange and spacey conversation with Jeremy, one the OM monks, the night before. It was in the Ashram library which was more colourfully and extravagantly decorated than the other more Spartan rooms in the ashram. Especially the bedrooms that were more like monastic cells with hard futon mattresses laid on the cold pine wood floor.
Paula and Jeremy were both sat in front of a log burning stove. Jeremy had one of those delightful well bred voices that are easy on the ear. He was dressed in the ‘uniform’ of the ashram monks – a simple Indian style top and cotton trousers. On some of the monks such clothing seemed dishevelled but Jeremy’s fitted him well and was there just a hint of crease in his trousers and certainly his top was ironed and probably starched.
- I like the old fashioned open fire myself, said Paul attempting conversation which was unusual for him but Jeremy’s silence had somehow got to him.
- Yeah but wood burning stoves are so efficient and give lower emissions
- I can imagine
Curiously the room started to somehow swirl in front of Paul’s eyes
- Ah….
- Yeah?
- Ah the world is swirling
- Yes I guess you could say that. We, the planet and the universe or on a journey, dancing around each other
- Don’t mention dancing… I’m not sure I could stand up
- Well just rest there and let the universe journey on
- I’m not sure I have any other options
- Just r-e-l-a-x
Ordinarily anyone suggesting that Paul relax would have the opposite effect on him but Jeremy’s voice was so soothing and so hypnotic. After a few moments of silence the gentle but insisting questioning began
- Why are you here Paul?
- Why is any of us here? (They both laughed)
- True enough but what brings you here right now?
- Well I visited your place in Manchester and coming here seemed the next step.
- But you haven’t done a lot of yoga or meditation?
- No but I am very interested in Eastern philosophy.
- Hmm.. you were asking a lot of questions in Manchester
- Well that’s me I just like finding stuff out
- You were asking about Percy
- Yeah… what’s this an interrogation?
- No…. no… r.e.l.a.x…. Just trying to find out how we can be more helpful to you
- OK
- OK, is Percy a good friend of yours?
- I am closer to his wife Brenda
- Hmm
The next bit was rather a blur. Paul only had half memories of snippets of conversation with Jeremy. He remembered laughing sublimely at his own wordplay on mystic detective ‘I miss stick I detect ives, whatever ives is’
- Are you detecting me, asked Jeremy
- Clear as mud on my mudshit detector
- So why are you really here?
- Those ‘stential’ questions really really do my ‘ead in. Paul starts to sing, ‘Oh you’ve done my brain in’ (an old Bonzo Bog Band song)
- But its’ true you have done my brain in
- R-e-l-a-x
- Oh fuck you…..oh hell….
Later Paul remembered feeling and being somewhat disembodied as if he was floating above his body which was being carried by Jeremy and another of the monks who he later knew as Clem. Having carried him out of the library they gently deposited him fully dressed onto his bed.
And so the next morning there he was with a sore head and his cover - what cover? Blown. ‘I might as well leave here… but what happened to Percy? What had happened to Percy indeed. Percy was no longer at the Ashram. He had left 2 days before Paul had arrived. He’d gone where? No-one seemed to know. He has just walked out one day half through his month long retreat. Everyone at the ashram was pretty buttoned up about it. Paul was not convinced, indeed he was highly suspicious, but it was time to leave.
Back at his office they was a phone message from Brenda
- Hi Brenda, it’s Paul Whitley here
- Hi Paul thanks for ringing me back. I have heard from Percy. He sounded a bit strange. He was very apologetic but he wouldn’t say that much over the phone, and he ‘s not coming back just now but asked me, indeed begged me to t-t-trust him (Brenda sobbed)
- Oh fuck said Paul under his breath.
He hated people especially women crying on him and even more so over the phone. It made him feel so helpless and took him straight back to his childhood and his mother but he certainly didn’t want to go there.
- Take it easy
- I’m sorry
- It’s OK, I am sure it’s been very tough for you. Must be good to hear from him.
- It is but I am so worried about him (starts crying)
- Look I am going to get to the bottom of this, Paul didn’t know why he said this he didn’t usually make such big promises
- OK
- Are you?
- Yes I’m calm now
- OK… look take care, spend time with a friend….I’ll be in touch soon.
Paul sighed, this was a knotty one. He needed time to muse on it – a bike ride what his Australian friend Mickie called ‘cycleabout’ where you just let the bike take you were it wants to go – or perhaps it was time for a real retreat rather than what the hell had happened at the Ashram, or maybe start with a coffee and a don’t in Fuel. That was it.
The mystic detective awoke with a sore head. ‘That was strange I’ve not been drinking last night’. He put his head under the cold water tap in the sink - that usually worked with a hangover. It had little effect this time but then again it wasn’t a hangover. ‘I feel like I’ve been drugged’ and he remembered a rather strange and spacey conversation with Jeremy, one the OM monks, the night before. It was in the Ashram library which was more colourfully and extravagantly decorated than the other more Spartan rooms in the ashram. Especially the bedrooms that were more like monastic cells with hard futon mattresses laid on the cold pine wood floor.
Paula and Jeremy were both sat in front of a log burning stove. Jeremy had one of those delightful well bred voices that are easy on the ear. He was dressed in the ‘uniform’ of the ashram monks – a simple Indian style top and cotton trousers. On some of the monks such clothing seemed dishevelled but Jeremy’s fitted him well and was there just a hint of crease in his trousers and certainly his top was ironed and probably starched.
- I like the old fashioned open fire myself, said Paul attempting conversation which was unusual for him but Jeremy’s silence had somehow got to him.
- Yeah but wood burning stoves are so efficient and give lower emissions
- I can imagine
Curiously the room started to somehow swirl in front of Paul’s eyes
- Ah….
- Yeah?
- Ah the world is swirling
- Yes I guess you could say that. We, the planet and the universe or on a journey, dancing around each other
- Don’t mention dancing… I’m not sure I could stand up
- Well just rest there and let the universe journey on
- I’m not sure I have any other options
- Just r-e-l-a-x
Ordinarily anyone suggesting that Paul relax would have the opposite effect on him but Jeremy’s voice was so soothing and so hypnotic. After a few moments of silence the gentle but insisting questioning began
- Why are you here Paul?
- Why is any of us here? (They both laughed)
- True enough but what brings you here right now?
- Well I visited your place in Manchester and coming here seemed the next step.
- But you haven’t done a lot of yoga or meditation?
- No but I am very interested in Eastern philosophy.
- Hmm.. you were asking a lot of questions in Manchester
- Well that’s me I just like finding stuff out
- You were asking about Percy
- Yeah… what’s this an interrogation?
- No…. no… r.e.l.a.x…. Just trying to find out how we can be more helpful to you
- OK
- OK, is Percy a good friend of yours?
- I am closer to his wife Brenda
- Hmm
The next bit was rather a blur. Paul only had half memories of snippets of conversation with Jeremy. He remembered laughing sublimely at his own wordplay on mystic detective ‘I miss stick I detect ives, whatever ives is’
- Are you detecting me, asked Jeremy
- Clear as mud on my mudshit detector
- So why are you really here?
- Those ‘stential’ questions really really do my ‘ead in. Paul starts to sing, ‘Oh you’ve done my brain in’ (an old Bonzo Bog Band song)
- But its’ true you have done my brain in
- R-e-l-a-x
- Oh fuck you…..oh hell….
Later Paul remembered feeling and being somewhat disembodied as if he was floating above his body which was being carried by Jeremy and another of the monks who he later knew as Clem. Having carried him out of the library they gently deposited him fully dressed onto his bed.
And so the next morning there he was with a sore head and his cover - what cover? Blown. ‘I might as well leave here… but what happened to Percy? What had happened to Percy indeed. Percy was no longer at the Ashram. He had left 2 days before Paul had arrived. He’d gone where? No-one seemed to know. He has just walked out one day half through his month long retreat. Everyone at the ashram was pretty buttoned up about it. Paul was not convinced, indeed he was highly suspicious, but it was time to leave.
Back at his office they was a phone message from Brenda
- Hi Brenda, it’s Paul Whitley here
- Hi Paul thanks for ringing me back. I have heard from Percy. He sounded a bit strange. He was very apologetic but he wouldn’t say that much over the phone, and he ‘s not coming back just now but asked me, indeed begged me to t-t-trust him (Brenda sobbed)
- Oh fuck said Paul under his breath.
He hated people especially women crying on him and even more so over the phone. It made him feel so helpless and took him straight back to his childhood and his mother but he certainly didn’t want to go there.
- Take it easy
- I’m sorry
- It’s OK, I am sure it’s been very tough for you. Must be good to hear from him.
- It is but I am so worried about him (starts crying)
- Look I am going to get to the bottom of this, Paul didn’t know why he said this he didn’t usually make such big promises
- OK
- Are you?
- Yes I’m calm now
- OK… look take care, spend time with a friend….I’ll be in touch soon.
Paul sighed, this was a knotty one. He needed time to muse on it – a bike ride what his Australian friend Mickie called ‘cycleabout’ where you just let the bike take you were it wants to go – or perhaps it was time for a real retreat rather than what the hell had happened at the Ashram, or maybe start with a coffee and a don’t in Fuel. That was it.
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
Mystic detective(3)
[creative writing]
The mystic detective was back in his office, not usually a creative space for him to be but he had already had an extended breakfast at Fuel and had no leads on his current cases to pursue. It was on days like this that eh liked to set off on a long bike ride to clear his mind and hopefully detoxifying his body somewhat. He recalled ruefully how the late, if not great, gonzo journalist Hunter S Thompson, had reported on a visit to his doctor at which he rather truthfully acknowledged the extent of his drug consumption. The medic was aghast but impressed by the feverish sweating that Thompson’s poor body was doing in a vain attempt to cope. The irony was of course that Thompson took his own life… Of course such thoughts were what Thompson would refer to as ‘bad craziness’.
Bad craziness indeed and the office door bell rang to indicate a visitor.
- Frankie, you again!
- Is that the best welcome you can offer to a poor friend and client?
- Of course not… (and noticing Frankie’s paler than usual face) It’s a bit earlier for a brandy?
- Better not, sun over the yard arm and what ho
- What ho indeed, coffee
- Unless it is good Italian… no
- Take a seat… and tell me what troubles you
- Hmm… it’s this business with Claudia
- Uh hn
- Yeah it’s really getting to me… You know being a gay man… I know I was married but really no…. being a gay man children is important. You don’t stop wanting to be a dad just because you are gay… and well I missed out… I’m probably too old for it
- Oh I don’t-
- I do, I was close to it once but then it fell through and I just don’t want to go there.
- OK
- So this business with Claudia-
- Yeah?
- Well if she was younger I could just get on with it… but she is grown up and I don’t what to do and I even know if she is my daughter or not.
- Would that makes things that different, Yes.. No…Oh I don’t know… I just feel so mixed up
- Sounds like you have seen her again
- I have and I kept a glass she used unwashed like you said and I have it with me but I feel like I am betraying her…
- But you need to know
- I need to know so let’s get on with it
- Fine… but tell me more about your last meeting with her
- It was kinda OK but I do need to know whether I am her biological dad… she seems quite keen on yoga
- Oh yeah?
- Yeah she is part of the OM group
- Oh
- Oh? You seemed surprised
- Hmm no or maybe yes, it is just that they have come up in another matter I am investigating…
- Does that mean you think they are dodgy?
- Maybe… have you been invited to their ashram in York? Yes Claudia is dead keen that I visit
- And will you?
- I don’t know it is not really my cup of tea but it seems very important to X
- Be careful, you seem in a rather vulnerable state
- Vulnerable? Moi? I ‘m as tough as old boots
- Oh Yeah?
- Oh yeah! You better believe it!
- Along with 6 other impossible things before breakfast!
- Hey that’s my line!
Frankie was on his way soon after leaving Paul musing on his visit. So Claudia was part of the OM group. Was she really Frankie’s daughter? And what was she up to with Frankie? Well the DNA sample should soon tell us the biology and it was beginning to feel like time fro Paul to visit the OM Ashram but he felt a curious reluctance. He just didn’t have a good feeling about it.
The mystic detective was back in his office, not usually a creative space for him to be but he had already had an extended breakfast at Fuel and had no leads on his current cases to pursue. It was on days like this that eh liked to set off on a long bike ride to clear his mind and hopefully detoxifying his body somewhat. He recalled ruefully how the late, if not great, gonzo journalist Hunter S Thompson, had reported on a visit to his doctor at which he rather truthfully acknowledged the extent of his drug consumption. The medic was aghast but impressed by the feverish sweating that Thompson’s poor body was doing in a vain attempt to cope. The irony was of course that Thompson took his own life… Of course such thoughts were what Thompson would refer to as ‘bad craziness’.
Bad craziness indeed and the office door bell rang to indicate a visitor.
- Frankie, you again!
- Is that the best welcome you can offer to a poor friend and client?
- Of course not… (and noticing Frankie’s paler than usual face) It’s a bit earlier for a brandy?
- Better not, sun over the yard arm and what ho
- What ho indeed, coffee
- Unless it is good Italian… no
- Take a seat… and tell me what troubles you
- Hmm… it’s this business with Claudia
- Uh hn
- Yeah it’s really getting to me… You know being a gay man… I know I was married but really no…. being a gay man children is important. You don’t stop wanting to be a dad just because you are gay… and well I missed out… I’m probably too old for it
- Oh I don’t-
- I do, I was close to it once but then it fell through and I just don’t want to go there.
- OK
- So this business with Claudia-
- Yeah?
- Well if she was younger I could just get on with it… but she is grown up and I don’t what to do and I even know if she is my daughter or not.
- Would that makes things that different, Yes.. No…Oh I don’t know… I just feel so mixed up
- Sounds like you have seen her again
- I have and I kept a glass she used unwashed like you said and I have it with me but I feel like I am betraying her…
- But you need to know
- I need to know so let’s get on with it
- Fine… but tell me more about your last meeting with her
- It was kinda OK but I do need to know whether I am her biological dad… she seems quite keen on yoga
- Oh yeah?
- Yeah she is part of the OM group
- Oh
- Oh? You seemed surprised
- Hmm no or maybe yes, it is just that they have come up in another matter I am investigating…
- Does that mean you think they are dodgy?
- Maybe… have you been invited to their ashram in York? Yes Claudia is dead keen that I visit
- And will you?
- I don’t know it is not really my cup of tea but it seems very important to X
- Be careful, you seem in a rather vulnerable state
- Vulnerable? Moi? I ‘m as tough as old boots
- Oh Yeah?
- Oh yeah! You better believe it!
- Along with 6 other impossible things before breakfast!
- Hey that’s my line!
Frankie was on his way soon after leaving Paul musing on his visit. So Claudia was part of the OM group. Was she really Frankie’s daughter? And what was she up to with Frankie? Well the DNA sample should soon tell us the biology and it was beginning to feel like time fro Paul to visit the OM Ashram but he felt a curious reluctance. He just didn’t have a good feeling about it.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Journeying
[creative writing]
The capiccino smelt good but he made himself not drink it until the train left the station. Likewise his I-Pod was untouched, just in case. Just in case there was some strange annoucement.
The train moved off with a jolt. He relaxed and fitted in the ear pieces of his I-Pod. He was imemdiately flooded with sounds and then memories. All his favourite music carried rich memories even the very latest stuff quickly gathered their fair share. To listen to music was to dive deep into an ocean of memories, strange creatures came in view and even though the music could move him to tears he felt safe. He knew where he was going.
He unwrapped the sandwich she had made for him. Crisp fresh bread, Italian ham, organic mayo, lecttuce. Just right, just like her or rather just like her on the surface. Underneath, well was underneath.
Sometimes he just liked to look at her over a meal. It was best when she was in a reverie and he could watch her without her changing or shaping.
Soemtimes we forget how separate we are. Sometimes you are not just part of my inner landscape.
The capiccino smelt good but he made himself not drink it until the train left the station. Likewise his I-Pod was untouched, just in case. Just in case there was some strange annoucement.
The train moved off with a jolt. He relaxed and fitted in the ear pieces of his I-Pod. He was imemdiately flooded with sounds and then memories. All his favourite music carried rich memories even the very latest stuff quickly gathered their fair share. To listen to music was to dive deep into an ocean of memories, strange creatures came in view and even though the music could move him to tears he felt safe. He knew where he was going.
He unwrapped the sandwich she had made for him. Crisp fresh bread, Italian ham, organic mayo, lecttuce. Just right, just like her or rather just like her on the surface. Underneath, well was underneath.
Sometimes he just liked to look at her over a meal. It was best when she was in a reverie and he could watch her without her changing or shaping.
Soemtimes we forget how separate we are. Sometimes you are not just part of my inner landscape.
Monday, 12 April 2010
Party blues
[creative writing]
- People who believe in politics are nutters.
- Oh yeah?
- Oh yeah.
- Why?
- Why?
- Yes why?
- Because it's a mug's game and it doesn't change anything
- No?
- No, not for the better anyway
- How can you say that?
- Here we go, back to the Welfare state and fuck knows what else. Listen pal this is meant to be a birthday party not bleeding question time at the House of Commons.
Well that shut them up. There was a silence which threatened to become a longer silence so Pet stepped in,
- Time to dance
Right dance. God I was pissed already and it was only 9 o'clock. 'Fuck' time to switch to mineral water. 'Fuck no', "It's my party and I'll spew if I want to. You would spew too if it happened to you." Oh hell from everyone's reactions I had been signing this our loud rather than under my breath.
Time to come up for air. Why did that phrase sound so threatening? The cold air hit me so did the lamp post and I had not even touched it! I breathed in deeply - that was a mistake. I started coughing but managed not to throw up.
I looked heavenward and saw Orion and the Pleides - 'when you wish upon a star .... what would my wish be?
- My wishes are simple she said - to wake up warm with good food and my friends around me.
I could wish for that but it feels too static for me because as soon as you get the scene things start to happen. Knowing that Frankie hates Gina's guts and that Pauline has a crush on Jeremy and Pet has never really forgiven Clive and well it wouldn't work would it?
OK come for breakfast and be on you best behaviour.
- OK?
- OK!
[Now Tony reckons this is the introduction to my novel but I am not so sure!]
- People who believe in politics are nutters.
- Oh yeah?
- Oh yeah.
- Why?
- Why?
- Yes why?
- Because it's a mug's game and it doesn't change anything
- No?
- No, not for the better anyway
- How can you say that?
- Here we go, back to the Welfare state and fuck knows what else. Listen pal this is meant to be a birthday party not bleeding question time at the House of Commons.
Well that shut them up. There was a silence which threatened to become a longer silence so Pet stepped in,
- Time to dance
Right dance. God I was pissed already and it was only 9 o'clock. 'Fuck' time to switch to mineral water. 'Fuck no', "It's my party and I'll spew if I want to. You would spew too if it happened to you." Oh hell from everyone's reactions I had been signing this our loud rather than under my breath.
Time to come up for air. Why did that phrase sound so threatening? The cold air hit me so did the lamp post and I had not even touched it! I breathed in deeply - that was a mistake. I started coughing but managed not to throw up.
I looked heavenward and saw Orion and the Pleides - 'when you wish upon a star .... what would my wish be?
- My wishes are simple she said - to wake up warm with good food and my friends around me.
I could wish for that but it feels too static for me because as soon as you get the scene things start to happen. Knowing that Frankie hates Gina's guts and that Pauline has a crush on Jeremy and Pet has never really forgiven Clive and well it wouldn't work would it?
OK come for breakfast and be on you best behaviour.
- OK?
- OK!
[Now Tony reckons this is the introduction to my novel but I am not so sure!]
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