The Superannuated Man ...

"From a poor man, poor in time, I was suddenly lifted up into a vast revenue"

This summer, I've decided, I'll read Charles Lamb's Essays of Elia - 

I've only skimmed so far the pages of my pristine Everyman - I bought it in 1976 - 

Jukeboxes were playing The Killing of Georgie in louche Brighton pubs - Annick had just gone back to France - 

The second hand bookshop was not far from the station - lurid paperbacks smouldered - late Rushkins were inscribed with strange signatures - 

The first essay I'll read will be The Superannuated Man - 

Perhaps I'll read it sooner, in Eduardo's house - 

16.49

Saturday 21 March 2015

The Old School House

East Stoke

Dorset 

Pyjamarama and the past ...

Driving the wounded red beast, I listened to Roxy Music's Pyjamarama - 

I was driving through gentle Wareham, past the almshouses - 

I turned up the volume as high as I dared - 

I remembered listening to this song when I was twenty one - 

I'd spent the evening with a slim girl in a high ceilinged room - there was a kitchen full of bottles - 

One night, I'd swum in the moonlit pool - 

Phil Manzerana's feverish saxophone was just as I'd heard it, in that different world - 

In the rear view mirror, for a few seconds, I saw my younger face - 

The Cross

Wareham

11.30

Friday 20 March 2015

Mist upon the ridgeway ...

This week I watched Ava DuVernay's Selma - I perched upon my seat of quirky springs - I forgot that I was in gentle Wareham - 

I was face to face with state troopers upon Petus Bridge - I smelt the scent of white flowers upon a casket - 

I remembered Coretta's words yesterday about the fog of death - 

We were walking the ridgeway, under a cloudless shining sky -

Anne had just had just heard about Bob - 

We'd gone dressed as pirates to his party - 

I looked out towards the sea - death wasn't a fog, I thought - it was a shining bluish mist - I could see figures moving inside it - 

I wondered how long it would take for this mist to cover the bright land, to hide the withy beds, to lap the stone circle - 

South Dorset Ridgeway 

Above Portisham

12.00

Wednesday 18 March 2015

Walking like Jep Gambardella by the silky sea ...

I walked like Jep Gambardella across the sand - a shining mist hung over the silky sea - small waves washed over razor shells - filmy clouds moved across the pale blue sky -

The tide was exceptionally low, revealing gleaming runways of ridged sand - 

We saw three riders in white horses moving through the dunes - 

Gorse bushes were bejewelled with yellow flowers - 

Startled geese flew low over the waves - a lurcher bounded through the shallows -

We sat for a while by the beach huts - we heard the quiet voice of the sea -  

I buttoned up my invisible silk jacket - I carried on walking with my hands clasped behind my back - 

 

14.00

18 March 2015

Middle Beach

Studland 

Isle of Purbeck

The placid china head ...

That'll be eight the silver fox grinned - 

I gazed at his silk scarf, his blue jacket, the collarless shirt - 

I imagined this raffish antiques dealer putting a monkey on Diva Dancer in the Saint Leger or Northumberland Plate - 

We lolled upon worn sofas, eating toasted banana bread - 

Earlier, we followed a golden thread through a labyrinth of antiques - 

I'd admired a pristine bowler, nesting upon a hat stand - a Punjabi sideboard was a faded jewel of richly decorated wood - brave Fupi was menaced by ravening crocodiles - a ouija table invited spirits - a shapely mannequin smiled a 1970s smile - 

I sipped my Americano - around us, families celebrated Mother's Day - 

I thought about the phrenology bust I'd seen, placed next to some glistening vases - 

What thoughts, I wondered, were slowly flickering inside that placid head?

16.00

Sunday 15 March 2015

Cafe

Dortchester Curiousity Centre

Dortchester

The bookshop in Puddletown ...

The bookshop in Puddletown was no artful Waterstones - a narrow door, well hidden, opened upon a labyrinth of foxed volumes - 

Penny and I were happy to explore the dark bookcases - we both devoured books as a pike would minnows - 

I lingered by a bright reef of first edition G A Hentys - I picked up Under Drake's Flag - a boy stood upon the deck of a sailing ship, a rapier in his slender hand - 

A locked glass bookcase contained mysterious folios - 

We lost all sense of time amongst the gentle volumes - 

I thought of all the book shops I'd visited - perhaps, in a dream, I would revisit them - 

I would wear a cloak of fragrant pages, torn from Newgate Calendars - there would be piano music, Gnossiennes - I would walk barefoot upon rich carpets - 

The Antique Map & Bookshop

Puddletown

Dorset

12.30

March 13 2015

The words of past sermons whirred above our heads like dusty moths ...

In the church of Saint Mary the Virgin, we sat in the box pews before a triple decker pulpit - the words of past sermons whirred above our heads like dusty moths - 

An ape in a stained glass window held up a small hand mirror - the ape had a slender hands and feet, grey fur like feathers - 

A memorial remembered James Edmund Brymer who was accidentally drowned whilst bathing at Hythe on the 23rd of June 1863, aged 24 years - 

A glass case displayed some bullets removed from the church door when it was cleaned and restored - each bullet looked like the black swollen egg of some strange insect - 

11.40

March 13 2015

St Mary The Virgin

Puddletown

Dorset