Saturday, 9 January 2021


I know, I do know. I’m about to type upon a keyboard, to use words and phrases that try to connect to you. I’ll give it a good shot, albeit probably not my best, but I’ll try, nonetheless.

There are, roughly, over seven billion people upon this very world at this second in time. We’re tall, small, medium and large. We’re round and we’re proud, the ying to another’s yang. We smile, we laugh, often cry and sometimes scream to the heavens above. We’re red, blonde, brunettes and sometimes somewhere in between. We’re living, breathing, thinking flesh covered machines and for that, I am glad.

There are billions upon billions of places within this world. Some dark, some dense, some magical and mostly beautiful. You can take a stroll upon a golden sand filled beach, to a solemn walk upon a French cobbled road. We can marvel at the barren arid deserts, as well as the tropical splendour of the forest filled adventures of the world and, for this, I am glad.

There are an infinitely diverse number of structures within this spinning planet. From the fantastically designed sculptures, taken from within the heart of a person, to the crazily manufactured, lob sided, monstrosities of another. The art of creation is the wealth and health for another, and, for this, I am glad.

There are over six hundred thousand words within the English language. The communication of the many, towards the few that we know and embrace within any given space and time. There are words to hold, to scold, the old, the new, the twisted and the true. Whatever we can imagine, we can describe, renew, pursue and make anew. We can express the deepest emotions, exclaim our love or describe our pain and, for this, I am glad.

There are so many moments, within each and every single day. We can take any of those moments, to show that we care, or even if we dare, to be something else. We can embrace, use our memories to retrace, the beauty created within every single one of those moments. The seconds, the minutes, or even the weeks and for this, I am glad.

There are chances for kisses within our expansive worlds. We can send a kiss to a person a thousand miles away, feeling and giving the care that another needs. We can feel the warmth of another, upon us, kissing and sharing the way they truly feel. Each kiss, precious, especially when given with the faith that the ‘one’ cares. We show, we know, we pucker, and we pleasure and for that, I am glad.

I know that I’m just one person, amongst the many, but I do have the fortitude to proclaim a certain belief. There might be billions of people in the world. The many places filled with thousands upon thousands of buildings. Within one of them, maybe many of them, I’ve kissed, and I’ve expressed myself the way many have done before. They’ve taken the moments, they’ve embraced them, held them against their hearts and used many a word to show the person what they are.  You see, no matter the people, the place, the building or the moment’s kiss, I’m just so very, very glad, that amongst all of the above, I’ve been privileged enough to have known… you. For that, I am more than glad, as glad simply doesn’t hold justice for the way I feel.

Tuesday, 29 December 2020


She sat next to the upstairs window, watching, viewing, feeling her emotions spike. Threatening her calm. Her impulsive measures, tried to apply themselves, as her thoughts exploded within her mind. She could feel her anxiety rise within her heart and, at that point, her eyes betrayed the sadness within.

If she could reach out, breaking through the window to embrace him, she truly, honestly, would. As her hand gently found the window in front of her, she felt the cold glass press its vacant feelings towards her skin. The moment, embracing, the notion, uncaring. She would scream, she’d shout, but she couldn’t as her voice could hardly even muster a murmur. She was, if she were to be honest, frozen in place.

She loved him, like no other individual upon the god forsaken world. She knew so many people, held their hands, heard their words, but they were seconds within her life of dreams and wonder. She watched as he opened the car door, as he looked back for a brief number of seconds, as his head fell and his gaze moved away from the house. From her eyes.

Slowly, the blurred motion of the moment burnt the memory into her mind. She wondered, she chastised, her heart wishing to blame herself for the situation. She could have said something, anything, but tiny voices were often so miss-understood or ignored. Helpless, void of control, with her thoughts even struggling to perceive the eventful events that had taken place.

The arguments, the shouting, the trauma of hearing their love fade into obscurity were all there. Within her memory. Her thoughts. Her being. Her eyes closed, tears forming from each, painful, word spoken, exclaimed, thrown forward and heard.

Her Mother and Father had split. Finally. Maybe. Possibly. He’d come back, try to make things better, but something was wrong, and words didn’t seem to fix anything. She was the middle ground, the person that just wanted things to remain calm. Even at her age, she knew that stability was essential. No screaming, no slamming of doors, no manipulation, or under-handed comments. She’d heard every second of their escapade of self-indulgence. To her small ears, it almost seemed like they actually enjoyed the drama. The play. The up and then inevitable down.

She moved away from the window, her head down, tears moving along her small face. She believed, she wanted wishes to be truth, but love didn’t seem to be the same as the many movies portrayed. It wasn’t a happy ever after, the romance and roses of two hearts becoming the one. She wanted to hold the both of them, together, forever, until the smiles returned. The loving words, the small kisses, the holding of a heart filled hand and the days of adventure.

She curled into a ball, on her bed, as her tears continued. She’d survive, she knew she would, with the wise head upon young shoulders being brought into the adult world a little too early. She understood most events. She’d read the forums, the adult places where the sadness of the many lurked. She realised that people simply did not resolve their problems.

Holding her pillow, a little tighter, she wondered how this would change her. She asked herself if she would also be damaged, but the small little voice within asked her to believe. She wanted to believe. Life was not perfect. Life was that jigsaw puzzle with that one missing piece. Almost perfect, fitting together with thought and precious work.

Rubbing her right eye, she caught sight of the family photo, upon the side dresser. The three of them, together, the three of them smiling upon a beautiful day. She held her hand out, trying to reach the picture as the tears appeared faster than before. It hurt, it burned her heart to pieces, thinking that they’d never be the same again.

Her tears slowed, the realisation settling into her mind, as two unhappy individuals were better off apart. They’d find new people; they’d settle and smile again. She’d smile again. Eventually. Just… not today, not on this day, despite still believing in that forever fairy tale of youth.

Wednesday, 16 December 2020


I heard you say the words, softly speaking just as my world faded into the dreams of sleep. I heard all the words and my heart, suddenly, fruitfully, started to beat with a new rhythm. I know what they say about words, the cheap nature of the spoken tongue, but that’s perfectly fine as your actions speak far, far louder. 

I’m a believer, despite the outward charm and aloof behaviour. My heart is alive, living, throbbing and wishing to escape. It is covered in gold and that is why it’s so very, very difficult to embrace. It’s protected by the finest truths, the fabled chants and incantations. Who knew, who realised, that you would be that enchantress.

I mention the magical arts as if they realistically exist. I’m an optimist, a believer, with two feet firmly planted to the ground. I can let my imagination run riot, to fly as high as the very sky, but then return to have the deepest, most meaningful conversation you’ve ever heard. That is, of course, if I bite.

I’m light, I’m abstract, with the surface showing but a laugh and a smile. Small talk be damned, the learned lessons of easy life and shallow interaction. Come at me, come for me, let’s set the world alight and damn the very souls of the many wanderers.

I smile, just a little, my dream world embracing my thoughts. I grasp, I hold, but it’s too late. I’m slipping, falling, moving from this location to the imaginary.

I heard you, easily speaking as my world grasps the dreams of rest. I heard you say that you loved me. I heard the words stating that you needed me. That’s okay, that’s the beauty of two and, for once, I believe every single word.


Thursday, 10 December 2020


Daniel felt the soft sofa against his back, as he blinked a few times, clearing his eyes of any images that were still vying for his interest. He’d pulled out the extra little section that had turned into a bed and now, right at that second, he felt the calm flow over him.

Her head, resting against his chest, remained exactly in place as he finally allowed himself permission to relax. It had taken a few days, but she was finally next to him, with her leg across his waist, along with one of her arms holding him. She felt absolutely amazing.

His breathing slowed, the calm finding him, as his mind expunged all thoughts as well as feelings. He simply, finally, just wished to relax and, more importantly, to feel her in a way that might not seem normal to many. He listened, he felt, as he allowed himself to remain open to her.

As the seconds escaped through the silence and calm, he smiled. Just a little. He allowed himself to actually feel the moment instead of being some kind of emotional tyrant. He seldom allowed his emotions freedom, as they bubbled beneath the surface, but upon this one occasion he really wished to be free. He felt the calm. He witnessed the all-encompassing clarity of the unbelievable silence between them. Neither a word spoken, in the last few minutes, yet the moment was saying more than he could ever imagine.

He listened to her breathing, the silence amazing him. She flowed gently in and out as her breath escaped and entered her. It was beautiful, as their breathing attempted to match. His breathing, longer than hers, with the depth of life joining the both of them.

He’d never, ever, in his entire life, felt as calm as he felt at that very second. His mind flared, baffled at such a moment being real, as he reminded himself to simply ease his thoughts to enjoy the moment. Her energy was, to put it simply, beautiful. He had a knack, a feeling, a realisation from a lifetime of experience, as well as mistakes, of knowing when someone, or something, wasn’t quite right. In all his moments, this was the very first time that he had felt a complete and utter calm from another.

He’d spent months, weeks, minutes, calming his own inner monologue, to a point where his very soul could remain quiet amongst the turmoil of the lives around him. He could literally stand amongst the many, and emotionally feel people. He knew that every person had an energy about them, but the day-to-day turmoil and strife of life often damaged that energy. He didn’t wish to embrace a cold heart, or even a closed heart, despite his own healthily erected maze-like vestibules. He wasn’t complicated, he simply wasn’t open to connecting to anyone that didn’t seem right. He’d share, he’d explore, he’d give, but taking wasn’t his strong point.

She squeezed his pec, adjusting her head slightly as his mind drifted to the peace surrounding him. In his mind, it was almost like they were one. He hardly knew her, had only spent a small amount of time speaking with her, yet there was no rush or heavy weighted desire to jump into bed, or explore the hideous years of pain, anguish, solitude or any other prescribed measure of oddly presented bonding. She, simply, was. She, right at that moment, had connected with him in such a way that he’d previously wished would exist.

He knew that a soul, a heart, or whatever scientific measurement placed our entire being within the context of our mind, could accomplish far more than it knew what to do. Untrained, uncivilised, the knowledge simply being out of reach, yet within a moment such as this, he could feel the energy flowing between them. He would almost call it magic, but that was for fairy tales and unicorns. He’d witnessed the energy transference from emotional vampires, but nothing quite like this positive moment.

His smile increased, his mind letting go of his thoughts. He was drifting, becoming, traversing towards a new path that he was fully willing to explore. This was beyond anything he had known before, or ideally recalled at a moment’s notice. This was freedom, the true way that two people that cared, should bond with each other.

Monday, 16 November 2020


Day One.

It was love at first sight. There were glances, to the side, head forward and eventually, direct contact. I held your hand, as you demonstrated the beautiful nature of your smile. I was of course, enabling myself to take every opportunity to decrease the distance between the you and, the I.

Electricity, a flame, a moment, exploded into view as my hand met yours. Such a simple, small, moment in time that we often miss. The first touch, the first contact, that eventually moves quickly towards that first kiss. Yeah, I know, I’m moving far too fast. I cannot help myself, as my naked heart beats at a quickened rate.

You part your lips, you smile, you allow your eyes to embrace the view and we’re moving towards something special. I know, I understand, words are words but actions, pure actions, mean the world. We explore our ideals, sharing the knowledge and laughter that have formed lines upon our aged skin. It’s beautiful, it’s the magical seconds as the gap becomes even smaller.

We’re so close, the kiss looming within our imaginations and then, all at once, we embrace. Your lips upon mine, my body pressed against yours, longing and presenting the completion of the rest of our probable lives.

Day Two.

Our lips are silent, as I hold you beneath me, above me, around me and all over. The words have been spoken, the laughter said and done, with only the silent moments to come. We’ve kissed nearly every inch of each other, explored, devoured, taken and reduced ourselves to hot, mildly broken and satisfied spectacles of human endeavour.

All defences abandoned, all borders open to explore, we’ve allowed ourselves to be consumed with the passionate moments that had flickered in front of our eyes the day before. We liked, we hastened, we’re here at this point in time. As I stare at your naked flourishing body, from across the room, I cannot contain my delight at the moonlight’s gaze upon your form. You are a spectacle that knows no compare. Your words warm and enlighten my heart and I feel that we could be heading towards the inevitable..

It’s truth, it’s the ideal, it’s the very notion of being more than the solitary beings we often find ourselves. The warmth can be intoxicating. The warmth can be… everything.

Day Three.

The wounds start to form within our minds. The anxiety from the messages, those new moments of scolding, passive remarks resound within our mind. We thought that we could be something new, something else, but the years before us, seemed to have poisoned the good that could have been. We didn’t resolve, we didn’t explore, when we had the chance upon our lonely, solitary moments.

We thought that yet another would resolve the problems of the other. It’s a lesson, another lost soul, abandoned and blamed for a vapid range of reasons. My heart hurts, my head aches and the heart yearns. Holding the other pillow, wishing it was you, as I feel the poisonous words expressed by the both of us, invading my thoughts. I could have said, we should have said, we would have done but instead, we are apart. Too soon, too quick, too easy to fall into the fast-paced embrace of a new moment in time. Maybe next time, it will be different, as I fail to even remotely change my own point of view. I ignore, I resist, the thought of resolving any of the inner conflict that resides within my understanding of events.


To me, you see, the entire world is living at break neck speed and when you really think about it, in the great scheme of things, ten years could simply be equated to the math of three, singular, solitary days. If only we’d spend three days resolving, instead of trying to find someone to patch over our individual life learned faults.

Monday, 26 October 2020


Push me. Nudge me. Press gently. I know that you eventually will, one day, upon a given second of decadence and impudence. It’s perfectly fine, even acceptable, especially under the current climate. You see, to you and many others, I’m the calm, friendly, crazy one that sits in the corner amusing people. I’m harmless, mostly.

I’ve always disliked injustice, that intolerance of others, or the basic fact that some people can be so absolutely blind that they simply do not, cannot, see their own nature. I’ve been there, the blind workings of my own beliefs hampering my progression but, through failure, one can finally see through to the clearing.

The calm, the knowing, the understanding soul of a person that has seen and been many, many differing things to a few or more. I know, we hopefully all realise, that our lives are but the smallest embers of a fire that will soon be replaced for other flickers of light. We have mere seconds upon the minute of our lives, to live and repeat the same said offerings of life.

We’ve cried, we’ve fallen, risen and began anew. I’ve paid whatever needed to be paid, for my crimes, yet the accused are still the accusers. It makes me smile, even though I feel that small tainted speck of fear still left within me. The fear of being miss-understood or, even, miss-quoted. We are but the words from someone else’s lips. You could be a monk within the region of love and prosperity, but still be the demon to which is spoken of to the many.

The thing with life, is that you can be pushed, again and again, until you form your own avalanche. It’s unstoppable, it’s poetic, prophetic, to fall upon your own knees as you realise what's about to happen. You take the punches; you grasp at the roots you’ve planted, and you roll forward.

You know that you’ve given your pound of flesh, the wise words of many being replaced with your own inner teachings and knowledge, as you gather speed. You leave them behind, you close the door, the ghosting of a few to become the many positive words within. You cast them aside, you move them away from your life, growing, as you feel your own strength ascending from within.

You are the storm, you are the rain and you are, most of all, your own sunshine within your smile. You’re beautiful, a grace filled spectacle of splendour, a crescendo of impending atomic power. Be all you can be, as you roll forward into the life and situations that you need. That you control. That you embrace with your arms and lips. You are the avalanche of your own life.

Freedom, through the chaos of your entire life exploding around your very eyes, can be liberating as well as exhilarating. You can step aside, you can embrace, you can view all of your own changes and, through the devastation of your own fingers grasping, the changes expressed through your own actions. Be, just be, all you can be. It’s simple. The hours behind you are lost. The moments in front of you are to be, but right now, rip apart everything you can no longer tolerate or appreciate. It’s your time, it’s our time, to thrust ourselves into the danger of finding freedom. There’s a sacrifice to be made, with one step leading to a fall, as well as a sudden rush of fear.

Intoxicating, once you start, realising that you could have made the change at any point. Procrastination is not your friend, neither your enemy, with your own heart and mind often holding you back through fear and impending anxiety. Damn all of those things. Hold your own damn hand, push your own shoulders and most of all, beyond your eyes closing, hold on tight and feel, enjoy, love the very avalanche as long as it’s the very moment… you desire.

Saturday, 17 October 2020


Daniel, sat upon the old bench, looked out into the calm view ahead of him. The mild breeze, of course, reminded him that it was a positive decision to bring his jacket. The view, including the sea in front of them, featured a few perched boats upon the sand, as well as the various seagulls flying from point to point.

He’d been visiting this spot for the last few months, seeing as his Grandfather, Mr. Potters, was slowly advancing in age. He knew that time was precious and, upon each visit, he simply loved listening to all of the various stories that his family member presented. Many stories, on occasions, repeated themselves. He didn’t mind. He didn’t care, as the insight into another’s life was precious to him. Important. The essential moments taken out of his day, to brighten both of their lives.

Daniel’s Grandfather, sat beside him, chewed the sticky toffee bar whilst making various grunting noises. How he managed to chew such a bar, with a mouth full of false teeth, was beyond Daniel. Either way, the man genuinely seemed to enjoy the treat. Daniel smiled, glancing to his side, “You enjoying that bar, Grandad?” The man nodded, as he stuck a finger into his mouth, no doubt finding a little bit of toffee stuck to his gum.

“I am lad, I am. Good stuff this. Your Grandmother used to buy me a few bars when she went shopping. I do miss her!”

“I know Grandad, I know!”

Thomas, Daniel’s Grandfather, removed the fingers from his mouth, then rubbed the slobber over his jeans. Daniel shook his head slightly, amused, knowing fully that Thomas had no time for pleasantries of certain kinds, as he’d lived his life, paid his debts and endured the pain.

As Daniel returned his gaze to the view ahead of him, his Grandfather stood, placing the chocolate wrapper into his coat pocket. Then, for some random reason, Thomas started to empty his trouser pockets into his jacket. Item by item. Moment by moment. Then, once finished, Thomas pulled out the trouser pocket linings and started to slap the edges. Daniel watched as various bits fell from the lining. Fluff, random bits, string and more fell away.

Bemused, Daniel looked at Thomas, “What are you doing, Grandad?” he asked.

With a smile, Thomas returned the lining into the pocket, then sat down.

“I have another lesson for you Son!  Your mind is like your pocket. When you’re born, you don’t have pockets but when you do get them, they’re clean, empty, with the following years adding strength and understanding, to hopefully reduce the holes that might appear within those pockets. You don’t want holes in your pocket lad. Nope!”

Thomas, once again, picked at his teeth, eventually continuing, “You see, each bad idea, harsh word from another or our own mouth, creates fluff. Your pocket is supposed to be a safe place, that keeps you warm. Your hands are the working ways of your soul. You write, you create, you work. What happens when your nails are covered in fluff, lad? Can’t have that.”

Daniel nodded, expecting more.

“You have to clean your pockets Son. Remove the fluff. Clean pockets, clean mind. Imagine if you met a lovely lady? Chance would be a fine thing, with your haircut lad…”

Daniel laughed, as Thomas continued, “You wouldn’t want to hold her hand, when your own hand is covered in fluff now, would you? She’d think that you were a scamp. Can’t have that. Clean pockets, clean mind, fix the holes and keep your pockets safe and secure. You’ll have a better life that way!”

Daniel nodded, fully understanding the small adage spoken succinctly by his Grandfather. He’d never actually thought about it before and, if he were honest, he’d never checked his pockets for fluff, let alone tried to discover the fluff within his own mind.

Turning to his Grandfather, with a great big smile, as he reached into his pocket to grab another snack, he spoke, “Thank you, I shall keep my pockets clean from this point forward!”

Thomas pushed Daniel’s shoulder with his, “Shut up lad, and gimme’ another toffee bar!”