Wednesday, 5 February 2020

Even in stillness

Your name appears, bottom right
It's a pseudonym surname
Something that sounded Italian
Sometimes I let my mouse hover
So I can see your name for longer
You, suspended, in the corner
Then I watch the name fade away
Wondering if it's a metaphor
I click on your words
Waiting for the echoes of you
Will this be the last message?
Can we hover longer?
Even if we're not moving
Because even in stillness
You are my love, my one

Tuesday, 24 December 2019


I was thinking how difficult it can be to be conscientious. How we might  struggle to complete each task to the best of our ability. How, as parents, we might find it impossible at times to be balanced, fair or the bigger person.

No one knows what each person goes through on a daily basis. Some of us might struggle to get out of bed. Not because we are lazy but because just existing is a challenge. We might be under intense pressure at work. We might work a 60 hour week. We might interact with emotionally draining people or perhaps our work is a matter of life and death. We might be struggling to make ends meet. Our financial distress might be significant. Perhaps the possibility not paying the bills or affording food or losing our home is very real fear.

Each person is a rich tapestry of their own experiences. The colours may be bright and luxurious or they might be threadbare and faded. Life is mere lottery. So use empathy as much as possible and be kind.


Saturday, 22 June 2019

99 Problems and a Capri Sun

Following on from my daughter's mishear of Jay-z's 99 Problems, here's 99 Problems and a Capri Sun. Best read in the rhythm of the original:

If you're having trouble with your pop and your fun.  I've got 99 problems and a Capri Sun.  Drinky. 

I got the Paw Patrol, after Paw Patrol

Foes that wanna tell me Season 6 is unknown.

Bad critics that say she's not in the know.

I've got Netflix, stupid. What type of facts are those?

I used to live on a street but now I live on a road.

My mummy's always saying, put away your clothes.

I love the colour orange cuz I'm the Amber Rose.

I only stuff the system when there's rules to oppose.

You can tell me that I'm crazy, you can tell me that I'm wrong.

My light's still burning brightly, I'm still singing my song.

I've got 99 problems and a Capri Sun. Drinky.

Got beef with the school, if my dojos don't glow?

Gonna cry big tears, when class pet don't show?

Look, I don't know what you take me as.

You can't get the intellect that this girl has.

In dresses or britches, snitches, I ain't dumb.

Yeah so pfft critics, you can alcazam, gone!

If you think I'm not stylish, I got my own fashion.

I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun. Drinky.

I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun.
If you're having trouble with your Pop and your fun. I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun.

From FS1 to now, and my record was clear.

But teacher's still thinking I've got cloth in my ears.

Now I'm not in it for rewards but reality's clear.

The original isn't fabbed,  the original is feared.

Yeah you can keep your sheep, I'm my own Bo Beep.

With me, even Jay-z starts to query his street.

Yeah, there was that time, I tidied in the library.

Ain't no crime people, though I ignored assembly.

Why did my teach make a whole big scene.

When I was just trying to keep the library books clean.

Top homework projects, still a no win cheer.

Anyone would think there was favourites up in here.

I forget your pets, I'm my own best one.

I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun.

If you're having trouble with your pop and your fun. I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun. Drinky. 

Big red combine harvesters, is what I sing in the school.

No one told me the timing was a part of the rule.

Yeah my voice is pretty loud, like the motorbike.

I don't raise my fists, cuz my words are my fight.

By just being me, I'ma get foiled again.

Systems with its rules, just snapping them.

Yeah I'm queen of my throne, I'm the chief captain.

Shout all you want, you won't twist my zen.

Yeah don't diss me, your whole life is a pun.

I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun.

If you're having trouble with your pop and your fun. I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun. Drinky.

If you're having trouble with your pop and your fun. I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun. Drinky.

If you're having trouble with your pop and your fun. I got 99 problems and a Capri Sun.

Tuesday, 28 May 2019

Still a creep

I was reminded a few days ago of a time when I felt I didn't belong. When I was unsure of myself and searching for ways to fit in.

In my teens I listened whatever radio one told me to. I recorded Top of the Pops. I hovered over the stop button on my stereo, to end the music before the radio DJ spoke. Like a battle of wills, one side imaginary, the other determined, we tried to get there first. Until I bought myself a stereo that had a fade dial. Finally a professionalish end. Even if it was Mariah Carey singing some pappy pop tune.

After I my first love finished with me on a Thursday afternoon, I commenced a dogged determination to listen to important music. I had no real idea what that was but I wasn't going to restrict my ears to the production line of notes I'd been force fed so far. I started to wear black lipstick and hang around in record stores. I shunned Mizz and Just Seventeen. Choosing instead, the holy bibles of Melody Maker and NME. I'd know music. I'd listen to serious stuff. But obviously this doesn't happen overnight.

I made some new friends. A good group of people, most of whom I still know. They knew music. Or rather they appeared to, from my naive perspective. I, on the other hand, knew absolutely nothing. I looked like I spent all my money in Rowfers alternative clothing but it may as well have been fancy dress. I was playing a part. I pretty much still had the record button hovering for Mariahs next big hit. One night, I recall one of my new friends asking, what music are you into. The numbing horror. What music. I had no idea. It should have been such an innocent question but it definitely didn't feel it. Did he mean genre? What if I picked the wrong one? I already loved The Levellers by that time. My first love introduced me to them. I'd heard a few songs by Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin but did these comprise a category? I mumbled some form of a response. I've no idea what I said but I felt like a charlatan and I do not mean the band. Time past, as time does. I began to know music. Even more time past and I realised that it didn't matter. People like what they like. Musical prowess doesn't really exist. It is no more a badge of achievement than wearing the latest fashion is for those that choose to do so.

And yet I felt a slight ripple of the same worry I had all those years ago. Here, at the ripe old age of 44. Someone I had just met asked me a few questions about music. One about musicians I knew, somewhat, and one about an artist I'd never heard of. There was a sense that they were trying to trip me up. Find me out. Though of course there was nothing to find. I was dancing because I liked the sound.

Its interesting that no matter how much time passes, there are moments when perhaps we all feel like the fretful teenager we once were. The insecurities never fully leave us. Still a creep. Still a weirdo.


Saturday, 18 May 2019


I'm mostly OK, when you're far from
The fragile comes less than before
Just whispers at my fear now
Til we're standing again, door to door

In fragments though, in fleeting
The missing tsunamis my stand
Feet drag, all verbs are trying
Til the waves return to our land

Saturday, 12 January 2019

Blue pools

In your quiet blue pools
I'm unsteady, scrabbling for cover
You peer from behind shadows
Your hair dark, curves your face
Your lines beneath my fingertips
The connect in your touch
All your known, your unknown
Inviting all of me.

Saturday, 22 December 2018


I suppose it was discontent that led me to Google. That and an unexpected reminder hidden in a hangover meme. It said something about forever Tuesday. Thus it was that I found myself back on the endless tuesday blog.

It no longer meant anything to be there. It had long since ceased to be significant. I returned to the blog as a statement to myself. A one finger up. A sod you then. 

I was reading the words of the man I once loved but hardly knew. Most of the words barely registered. I wasn't there for him. I was there because of now. It's the reason we make our lovers jealous, why we pretend not to care, why we are aloof. It's why we wrap our vulnerability up in a blanket of disinterested, when all we want is to be completely loved. So we grab the power back by doing something we don't really feel. We protest. We stamp our feet. Just so we feel less rejected. 

Of course it doesn't really make any difference. It's no small victory. The victory only arrives in realising that there is no rejection, only someone else's choice, which might not reflect our own. 

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