January 2009

January 31, 2009

19 and life to go

I am glad I did the things I did when I was young.  I lived hard and played hard as a soldier and a young man.  I see some of these young kids in the call centre and I think what a waste of youth.  I am working with a...

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January 26, 2009

the creep back

Life has been trying to creep back into my consciousness. Or least all those things that try to distract me and pass themselves off as life – like death and taxes. It seems that when I live in the now, all sorts of other things build up in the periphery...

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January 24, 2009

simple food for a simple man

I am back home after another week in Rayleigh. The hotel I stay in during the week only serves food that I have to ask someone what it is.  Yes, I could go out in town to get a bite, but my dinner allowance is mixed in with the hotel...

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January 18, 2009

cold coffee

she sits at the back of Starbucks and stares at the door, poised in anticipation of her prey she does not blink she does not drink her coffee goes cold she could be an exhibit in Madame Tussauds i want to touch her to see if she is real, but...

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January 11, 2009


Hey folks, hop on over to the Pen Me a Poem website to read an interview of me conducted by Edward Beaman-Hodgkiss, poet and freelance writer.  And feel free to leave a comment after you’ve read the interview and pass the link on to others who might enjoy reading it....

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January 7, 2009

‘just do it’

Before there was Nike, there was Dante: ‘Now you must needs,’ my teacher said, ‘shake off your wonted indolence.  No fame is won beneath the quilt or sunk in feather cushions.’ ‘Whoever, fameless, wastes his life away, leaves of himself no greater mark on earth than smoke in air or...

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January 4, 2009

prophet man

please mr prophet man tell me what is true I hear some say religion is good for you but i’m not sure when in god’s name they tell me bombs and bullets are the cure

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January 1, 2009

happy new year

“What we call the beginning is often the end And to make and end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” (T.S. Eliot, The Gidding, V)

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