T H E V I E W
The view from my bed is strange
There’s a window to a wall
Red brick, white brick
And a giant silver pipe
Caught in a fiery sliver of sleepy sun
As it snakes away from today
And I’m glad for a day off.
The view from my bed is strangely comforting
My bed that is a stranger
My broken heart splayed out
Like an insolent child, starfished
In an empty space under the sheets next to me
I’m trying not to look at it
It’s trying not to look at me.
The view from my bed is a frame
Strangling the outside world with a glassy look and a painted smile
And yet, clarity finds me
Even though I don’t want to be found
I want to live in a cloud of memories
Good and bad
(Mostly bad, because the good ones hurt more).
The view from my bed escapes
As no other before
And no other again
So I want to catch it
To get as close as I can to holding our moment
To honour my streaming consciousness
And encourage my brokenness
So that I can visit again
When I’m feeling brave.
May 20, 2018
On 20CB Tour 2018
On a day off in Nottingham with Amber May.
This may pass
But now’s all I need.
Leaning on a window sill in High Wycombe.
June 23, 2018
K E Y S
I am thinking about black and white
About the limited words we have to describe
And how we use words to describe more than one thing
The keys on this piano
The key to my heart
The bass line
My face lines
My life lines
Sets of keys, unlocking
These are each the same word
The ghost of one settles into another
And I think of how I’ve lined these up in a subconscious row
In a melody line, in a turn of a verse
In a piece that I wrote.
Mesmerised by rows and lines
In East London
June 25, 2018