You

You

Before I saw You the music shook me. It fell over my body shattering my bones as I drowned my brains in toxins. Poisons for which I paid a price. The floor glued me in place, held, captured by fallen joy and last night dreams of the night. But seeing You slowed it down. Made the music soothe me and made my feet become as air. Able to float away but I allowed myself to he held in this world. Embraced with Your eyes. Time seemed to slow; seconds stretched to eons and seasons flew. And you my private treasure moved. Hair spilled around You. Lost in a tornado of your own making. A tornado of blood which swirled around You. Drawing everyone to You.

I made my way towards You. I could hear You calling, beckoning me to be by Your side. To touch You, to feel You, to put my fingers in You. I am almost there my love. To hear your sweet voice for the first. To touch the fire that surrounds You and let myself burn.

He touches You. Holds You from behind, and breathes in the smog and ash. You smile, teeth invite him and lips allow him. It’s he You will welcome into You tonight. He who will touch You and make You roar with pleasure.

All I had with You was the time when the music slowed and I watched You, My Girl who stopped time.

 

Landscape writing – Poetry

Yesterday I went with some other writers to The Ciliau which was a beautiful house in the middle of the country. There I met a range of women from professional authors, to a pilates instructor and an artist and we spent the day writing and performing poetry in this beautiful landscape. 

Later in the day we went down to the river and performed some poetry the waters edge and then had a chance to write some of our own. This is perhaps my favourite piece of the day and the most polished in the short time we had. I wrote several other poems and prose pieces during the day which I am still working on editing.  I read this to the group at the end of the day at Ciliau and got lots of laughs out of them. The leader of the group also said she liked the way I read it, I’ve got a bit of a accent that seemingly works well when I read, so I might try recording it and seeing how that goes. 

Stone

I’m a stone, a little red stone

In my little river home

 

I’m not self-conscious of my shade

So bright others call me brave

I don’t know why I am so red

“You’re just unique.” My parents said

 

But I’m not sure that’s really true

I could have been born green, black or blue

Perhaps its because I blush

Or I’m having a hot flush

But I am not prone to emotions much

And I’m not sure I have hormones as such

 

But yet here I am, a little red stone

In the little river I call my home

 

Urban Art

Outside of science and writing something else I love is what is a bit of urban art. These may be painting by known artists or scribbles on the street closer to vandalism. They all bring me joy.

I love walking down the street and stumbling across something interesting and out of place. It brightens my day and makes me look at the world around them more closely. Most of these pictures were taken around Roath, Cardiff and made me smile,

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This work by Scotto was found on the 30th of July 2013 as my flatmate and I walked into Cardiff city centre for a friends birthday dinner. I came home that night and had an almighty wine hangover and a carry out bag of left over curry.

 

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This one I found just around the corner from Richmond Road.

 

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The two above photos were taken as I cycled around near to Roath Park. I have since seen several other electricity boxes painted similarly but I was sadly without my phone to take a photo.

 

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This anti-Tesco art was painted on an old shop on the Taff Trail.

 

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Found next to a bus stop. Hope their bus came soon!