The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
This post has in a sense been handed to me by two or three responses to my post On not getting it. In the course of discussing how a reade...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
Tom Lubbock, writing in The Independent (friday 15 May 2009) returned to the age old topic of censorship in the arts. Well, in painting act...
Thursday, 19 July 2012
A Way to Begin
Oh yeah, I dig this -
that the soul rolls
like a storm cloud through a valley.
And out of the valley, a subtle beat
is taking the heat right out of me...
It's deep, bass, rhythmic; it's regular guys,
but over it, quietly, softly, there flies,
flows, rolls, whispers the soul...
Trip and tremble and gasping, whole - and
mellow as moonlight, laid back as spring
and forging, as spring, a way to begin.