Friday, 11 December 2009


Sanctuary, where the sun meets the sea
And we can sit suspended for a week
Free floating in the breeze
Just the dull thump of your pulse
And the red warmth through our eyelids
An instrument resonating life
Vibrating spectrums
Of sensation we're just ripples passing along,
Synthethesic; in the ocean, on the guagua,
On your bed on Christmas day with Jim Morrison
And one year from now feeling it all again
All the same moment exploding and reforming
Curving, bending, describing a flawless whole.

Miles Davis Photograph

A Miles Davis photograph in black and white triggers Deja vu. I try to hold it like always. Even more so this time because I want to feel impotent, devoid of responsibility. I want the rails to come back underneath.Miles is set, boxed, polished. And even so in that moment he's taut, considering something out of shot, the soft focus surrounding a pefect set for his dramtic tableau, Miles is Miles. That's what I felt then and now I do again, comfortable in the inexplicable familiarity Who could begrudge me that?

poetry (November 2009)

You're like poetry
Softly spoken to the ear
Never a word wasted
Never an emotion unexcited
Happiness in being
Acceptance of a state and yet
Communication of light years of meaning
Your audience awaits another line
For it may always be the last before life turns the page.