Thursday, July 29, 2010

Late Night at Large Red.

Battle, sigh, retreat, work, write, write, write, focus, never stop dreaming, plan, work, focus, write, believe, believe, believe - and don't ever let the Zombies get to you.

Winter's a tough time for self-belief. But with 6 months of Doing Right TM behind, it's not as hard to dig deep as it once was.

I know what's in my head, heart and soul. It may not show, it may be miles from being realised, but I know it's there.

I have to believe that.

Everyone is everyone else. A person can spend years lost in what everyone does. The battle is keeping it within. Using what you have, not what you think others have. Knowing that loneliness is joy, when it brings each goal closer. Two people have said they feel better after talking to me. I always just feel dislocated. I am not understood a lot of the time. My face paints a different picture, my words slug with thought, but things take time to digest with me. Anyway - this is it, isn't it. It's nice that people feel nice, let's try and do that. The cut is barely an issue now, I just want to Time Jump TM out of this winter, onto a plane, onto a stage and into Tomorrow.The plan was always to hide until it got Great. It's not Great yet. it's barely good. But if I sit and breathe for just one brief moment and look back, then it's been a healthy climb already.

And it's okay, at the waystation.

Sunday, July 25, 2010


How can I say anything to someone who talks of loneliness, cocaine decisions, drinking too much, parties, people, endless possibilities, networking, being Busy TM.

I cannot. I have lived that life.

I can worry, but Let Go. Though the ache is deep.

I can hold you when you cry, at least for this one night.

I can wish you every happiness, though my face may seem to say otherwise.

I can look, and I can see a Goodbye. This heart, stretched thin over the sky, can no longer catch this Little Burning Star. But if there is a way to find Real Love, with no questions, without pain, then I will try.

I remember the country air, never the city lights.
I cry for the air in our hair, never the drink in our hand.

I see the Deep Inner, never the Outer.

I dream, of a Best Friend, come to find me -

and here to stay.

Please take care of yourself
you burn, Little Star, you burn. xxx


And now, as unattractive as a guy who stays home working hard is, it's time to get excited about things again. Life stuff. Future stuff. Wide open heart stuff.

It doesn't change things. Things just are.


Tuesday, July 20, 2010


There's a moon out tonight
and it's silver tongued lies
cover all that is Light
it'll burn out your eyes
so stay inside
and make for damn sure
that the Wolves at your door
don't take anymore.

There's a wind out tonight and
it's blowin' in fights
and changing the sky
seems a little shy
of warm
as the eyes of The Poor
are firmly fixed
on a distant shore.

So ask me
if you see me
'Is it nice
oh, to be alone again?'
and I'll tell all my friend,
I burn in sorrow
but all this will be gone
and I'll be yearning
to be alone.

There's no spark
in my eye
that comes out at night
when no-one's in sight
I just sit inside
and cry
and make for damn sure
there's no wolves at my door
'cause I ain't got no more.

There's no God
I can see
there is only Me
and all that I dream
before Eternal Sleep
closes in
so don't pray tonight
just start dreaming your life

and dreamin' it

So ask me
if you see me
'Is it nice
oh, to be alone again?'
and I'll tell all my friend,
I burn in sorrow
but all this will be gone
and I'll be yearning
to be alone.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Night Moves.

If you stand in the cold, dark night, you might get lonely, but with loneliness comes something wonderful. Clarity. Freedom. You have not cast aside Determination for Fantasy. If The Kids TM believe they have found a peace, if they have clearly discussed the Past, Present and Future and believe in themselves and what they have is Real (cough, sorry, had a little something in there...I, what matter? The Stars! The Glorious Stars! When they return they will burn it all down, A Supernova, an End, a Rebirth, cycle upon cycle, with the constant being an incredible, adventurous search for and of Self.

I mean, this is some pretty fucked up shit, right here.
And a lot of people are echoing that thought.

But it's a crazy world, and Life keeps on comin',
bringing ills, thrills and this here weird chill.

But -

This chill is not morose, maudlin - there is no sentiment of regret.
This chill is an awakening, four, no seven, years of shackles.

And for once, what never was - Purpose.
Because yesterday when you thought to find grief - you found only determination.
And the tears which danced upon the light of the stars, were tears of mirth, relief and gratitude.
And the word that always falls from your mouth,
when the Angels point you out amongst all This Flux
and give you the greatest gift of all -


Oh the word, the word,

the simple word you only hear from the Real Ones:


Thursday, July 8, 2010

Wish - Redux.

There's a little lake in this valley surrounded by trees.

Some ducks live there. Some people too, but more ducks than people.

If you walk around the lake you get to this bridge and if you cross the bridge then you get to this house and in the house is where I sit most of the time, waiting for strangers like you.

You'll know when you're getting close because you'll smell fresh bread or maybe scones though I was never one for cooking a good scone, more one for eating it. Still, you'll smell something when you come by and I guarantee it'll be good. If you want to pick up some wine then that'll be okay with me.

There's a porch we can sit on, it's pretty good for sitting, and you can see the lake and the ducks and you don't have to stretch your neck or anything. It's just there. And in the mornings, in winter mostly, the fog thickens out over the water and tries to make it up the hill to cover my house but it only ever makes it to the porch. And it's like they kiss. The fog and the porch. Kiss each other good morning and then go about their own business.

Usually I'll have a fire going.

And I'll sit at my desk and you'll go through my papers and ask me, what's this? And I'll say, that's my book, and you'll say, can I read it?

Yes, I'll say. Yes, you can. After lunch.

I'll look at your legs the way they swing off the desk and you'll see me looking and we'll both smile and if I'm lucky you'll wink at me and say,

Yes. Yes, you can. After lunch.

You might stay a few days. I guess you've got things to do back in the city, ladders to climb, ambitions, social occasions and what not.

Anyway, I'll be here if you want to come back.

I'll watch the way you move when you walk away, back down over the bridge and past the lake and I'll think, you're so beautiful, and I'll think, maybe next time...

And I'll scratch the dog behind the ear as you disappear. And the cold nose of the dog will bring me back to life. And I'll put some more wood on the fire, and maybe boil the kettle, and set myself back down at the desk.

See, what I'm trying to do is write a book so magical, that you will never want to leave me again.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Sunday, July 4, 2010


Who lives their life like a miner at night,
digging for diamonds in bars full of flies?
Who spends their time prospecting at night?
Panning for gold but finding no sign.
Seems everyone's searching where nobody sleeps,
but the love that they're selling
it sure don't come cheap,
like in The Old Days.
pour me another, we'll toast our
Past Lovers TM, back in the Old Days.

When they fell for your charms - a lover on each arm -
back in The Old Days

But now

the Love of Your Life TM, my friend,

they ain't comin' tonight.

Not like in

The Old Days.