Marvelling in DFS land ...

This morning, Anne led me into DFS land - 

I gazed upon reefs of sofas - 

Spacious lounges were set out for invisible guests - 

Abstract art graced lofty walls - 

Sleek magazines adorned blanket chests - 

Mute servitors gazed at screens - 

Sofa beds promised dreamless sleep - 

Table lamps cast discrete light upon daring armchairs - 

Anne remembered my dad's marvelling words - 

They've got things in there you didn't know you wanted - 

13.30

Monday 29 November 2015

DFS

Wessex Retail Park

Poole

His eyes had been opened to the terrible fragile beauty of the world ...

We're driving towards Salisbury to see Tessa - 

A grey sky hangs over the prehistoric landscape - 

Sharp flints lie upon chalk - 

A few moments ago, we drove past a war memorial, lapped by brittle wreaths - 

Mud spattered Qashqais are parked outside bijou barns - 

Juke boxes are playing ballads in Sunday afternoon lounge bars - 

Pool tables wait for rogues - 

Pollarded trees are like Giacometti figures - 

This morning, Jay had texted me to ask if I'd seen the BBC 4 documentary about Wilko Johnson - 

I hadn't, but in my mind's eye I pictured the Bard of Canvey Island - 

There he was, playing his Fender Telecaster, sharp suited, witty, frantic -  

He, too, was marked by that secret mark - 

His eyes had been opened to the terrible fragile beauty of the world - 

15.30

Sunday 28 November 2015

Salisbury 

Feasting upon tinned sardines and rocket ...

Today, we feasted upon tinned sardines and rocket -  

Eating the pale briny slivers, I felt like a character in The Sea, The Sea - 

I should have a glossy cap of hair, I thought -

My name should be Miles or Charles - 

My house should be graced with a noble wine cellar - 

I should be haunted or wounded - 

21.36

Saturday 27 November 2015

The Old School House

East Stoke 

Dorset 

Golden shoes will tread the boards ...

I'm in the red wounded beast - we're on the M27, on our way to Portsmouth -

It's late afternoon - 

The windscreen wipers move slowly back and forth - 

Raindrops bejewel the glass - 

Illuminated signs spell out mysterious words - 

The sky is darkening - 

Anne's driving - 

Brake lights flare - tyres sigh - 

Later, we'll meet up with Tessa and Charlie - 

My cousin will greet us at the doors of the Theatre Royal - 

I'll greet the players in the green room - 

Golden shoes will tread the boards - 

16.00

Friday 27 November 2015

M27

They lay beneath my feet like careless jewels ...

I'm at Knoll Beach, outside the cafe, eavesdropping gentle gossip - 

Tiny birds dart towards me for crumbs of the National Trust brownie - 

Visitors in quilted jackets buy tea towels -

Foreign students feel pale sunshine upon their olive skin - 

I walked along the beach, towards Bramble Bay - 

A film of water upon the sands reflected the sky - 

I felt as though I were walking between two worlds - 

It was low tide - 

Shells and pebbles had been washed clean by the murmuring sea - 

They lay beneath my feet like careless jewels - 

15.00

Thursday 26 November 2015

Knoll Beach

Studland

Dorset 

Going to see Spectre ...

I'm going to see Spectre at The Rex tonight -  

I came across James Bond and Gregory Sallust at the same time - they were both sexy spooky killers - 

I'd read Goldfinger over one weekend, forgetting my homework - 

I gazed at the girl stretched out upon the paperback covers - 

Her gilded body haunted my eager dreams - 

I'd curl up on the sofa, watching Bond slaughter henchmen on the Ferguson TV - 

For a time Bond was part of my life - each year or so, there was another film showing at The Ritz - 

Bond would drive a savage Aston Martin, cheat death with a cynical appercu on his lips - 

Fantastic bunkers would be engulfed in flames - Q would raise a weary eyebrow - 

Then one day, we read Portrait of the Artist in the summer classroom - 

Nothing could be as simple and straightforward again - 

16.00

Wednesday 25 November 2015

The Old School House

East Stoke 

Dorset

Warm in the serene kitchen, we sat amongst poets ...

After From Romania with Love we walked back to Chelsea Road - 

We passed frozen villas under a sky full of stars - 

A cruise ship spilled its wanton light upon the dark sea -

Late night diners reeled out of louche eateries - 

The Deco was closing its doors - 

Warm in the serene kitchen, we sat amongst poets - 

Elena described the art of translation - 

Ed told me about the M33 - 

I drank richly flavoured coffee from a delicate white cup - 

Bottled summers were poured into generous glasses - 

The cold night was banished for a while - 

00.15

Sunday 22 November 2015

Chelsea Road

Southsea 

From Romania with love ...

The Polite Mechanicals played their haunting klezmer music -

A wind from the steppes blew through the walls of the Square Tower - 

I could smell wood smoke from the chimneys of nameless towns - young men flew sighing over roof tops - 

The girl playing a tender violin invited us to dance - 

I sat with Anne, waiting for Elena - 

The poets had given her their words - 

Now the words were returned, each word a gift, beautiful and strange -

20.30

Sunday 23 November 2015

The Square Tower

Old Portsmouth

  

Artie Shaw is playing in the lounge of memory ...

We're listening to Artie Shaw and his band in the lounge of memory - 

Artie's wearing a beautiful black dinner jacket - 

He's a handsome lounge lizard with a clarinet - 

Listening to Begin the Beguine I imagine myself dancing in the ballroom of a Cunarder - 

I'm dancing with a girl wearing a bronze bracelet - 

Searchlights mark the night clouds - 

The young sailor in the photograph comes alive - the girl wearing a beret remembers a secret - 

Outside The Beresford the landlord is giving out free beer - 

My dad wakes up in his armchair -

It's quarter to three in the afternoon - 

2.45

Sunday 22 November 2015

Staunton Road

Havant   

The long evening lies before us ...

The long evening lies before us - Doc Martin will scowl in his surgery - Chief Inspector Barnaby will solve a murder in a library - 

I will cross a beige desert of carpet - the bright TV will be heard upon the moon - a small dog will yelp in Ashlee's garden - 

My dad will hold his head in his hands - he'll ask me many times have I had my sandwiches ?

My mum will doze on the sofa next to me - 

The wind nearly blew me away she said - I looked around - I prayed please God, let me see someone that I know - 

18.30

Saturday 21 November 2015

Staunton Road 

Havant 

Shadows in the museum ...

The short day was ending - the museum galleries were becoming filled with shadow - 

Ancient carvings cast strange shapes - 

I walked between two winged deities - 

A stone frieze depicted lions pierced by arrows, roped captives under palm trees - 

Bearded colossi were mute in the gathering darkness - 

A mummy case contained a withered princess -  

Cabinets of curiosities graced elegant high ceilinged rooms - 

Marble savants gazed upon dancing fauns - 

Outside the museum, near leafless plane trees were outlined against a starless Bloomsbury sky - 

18.00

Tuesday 17 November 2015 

Bloomsbury

London 

Aldersbrook cool ...

Sophie and Paul's front room overlooks Wanstead Flats - 

The wide windswept common is lapped by Victorian villas - towards the river, on the edge of vision, are the glass temples of Canary Wharf - 

Jazz should be playing in this room, I think - there should be spare, pared down, notes of a saxophone flickering over these stripped floorboards, perhaps some Coltrane - 

I would like to sit in this room, in the summer, bathed in pale light, delighting in Aldersbrook cool - 

09.30

Tuesday 17 November 2015

Aldersbrook 

London

Waiting for Sophie ...

I waited for Sophie in the Scratch Bar with Jay - 

Young creatives were drinking craft beers - 

I'd walked up Lavender Hill, past the poignant reef of Arding and Hobbs - a homeless girl sat cross legged upon the pavement - I heard all the languages of the world in the exciting darkness - 

We sat with our bumpers of red, talking about the commodification of learning - 

Music was playing, the joyous fanfares of A Candle's Fire - 

Jay, as ever, was courtly and kind - 

Sophie arrived, greeted by her people - 

I remembered how we'd hooted with joy seeing Sophie's name on the TV screen - Producer Sophie Bradey - 

Here she now was, smiling her clever thoughtful ancient smile - 

After the workshop, we all sat round a distressed table for a beggars banquet - 

There was laughter over bumpers, wisdom in our jokes - 

21.00

Monday 16 November 2015

Battersea Arts Centre

London 

Waiting in Costas ...

Waiting for Anne, I sipped a cappuccino in Costas - 

Fragile pensioners made their way towards the Minster - 

I thought of my mum and dad, by now waiting for lamb chops in the day centre - 

A man with a Daily Mail said they used AK 47s - 

Later, I planned to see Sophie and Paul in London - 

I hoped to share bumpers with Jay - 

Richard would soon be in Southsea, carrying his rucksack of bright words - 

Suddenly I wanted to shout out biscuit! or hedgehog! -  

I put down my Independent - it was time to meet up with Anne in Mouthpeace -  

The willowy barrista crafted another cappuccino - 

11.45

Monday 15 November 2015

Costas 

Winborne 

Dorset

Unowhatimeanharry came in at 6 to 1 ...

Last night, before we lit the fire, Richard workshopped a poem -

I listened to Richard reading the hard won words  -  

His poem evoked the wonders he'd sensed as an infant, lying in his pram - 

The front garden was a shimmering paradise - the sky was the window of a tender heaven - 

The voices of those he loved were the voices of angels - 

Later, we spoke of horses - 

Richard told me about horses being switched off - 

Unowhatimeanharry came in at 6 to 1 - 

It was time for a glass of Spitfire - 

19.30

Saturday 14 November 2015

The Old School House 

East Stoke

Dorset  

For one night I had imagined mourning empty chairs ...

I'm in The Salt Pig, reading about the killings in Paris - 

Even here, in this gentle town, my heart might be turned into a knot of ice - 

Sophie and Paul had planned to go to Paris this weekend - 

They might have gone there yesterday Anne said - 

For one night I had imagined mourning empty chairs, crossing a frozen carpet, my breath smoking in the frigid air -

11.45

Saturday 14 November 2015

The Salt Pig

Wareham

Purbeck

Dorset 

Sunlight streamed through a window as narrow as a path to heaven ...

We walked from Winspit to St Adhelm's Head - I wanted to visit the chapel - I would sit in silence there, out of the world, comforted by ancient stone - 

Upon the cliff tops, gale force winds blew in from the sea - crows whirled skywards from newly tilled fields - 

Foam covered the rocks where we'd sunbathed in the summer - three gulls skimmed the turbulent waves - 

We saw a peregrine, head lowered, gazing downwards at the sea - the next moment, it flew parallel to the cliffs, scything through the electric air, heading towards Dancing Ledge - 

Huge clouds clouds moved across the sky - their shadows darkened the storm tossed waters - 

In the chapel, sunlight streamed through a window as narrow as path to heaven - 

11.45

Friday 13 November 2014

St Adhelm's Head

Purbeck

Dorset