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...
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...
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...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
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.