Tuesday, 28 March 2017

Le Café

Stepping from the plane, each foot finding solid ground, again, after many hours flying through the sky, I exhale and start the slow walk. It’s been hours, days, weeks, months and, unfortunately, a few years, since I last saw your beautiful face. We’d met, years previous, in an old French corner café. Melodic music played, across the street, we caught each other’s eye and the rest’s history.

“Violins”, you’d stated, “Were your favourite instrument”, playing the perfect chord, amongst other thoughts expressed, on the day where we’d tried to impress each other with stories of life, love, loss and more. She had such beautiful eyes, not to mention her fabulous legs that seemed to be on show. Above all, no matter how she looked, it was her voice and words that grasped at my sanity.

They say that it only takes but a moment to feel connected, to share something more than a passing glance, which, in this case, seemed ever so true. We’d exchanged the usual contact details, connected through the digital age, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Whatsapp, plus a couple more. None of those mattered as they could hardly ever compare to actually being with her.

We’d walked, while talking, until we reached a beautiful garden, the Paris Gardens, if I recall. I was cheeky, in those days, brave, filled with such brawn and swagger, a man that knew what he wanted and would never be backwards in moving forwards. We held hands and, even, managed to sneak a small little kiss.

Reaching a flurry of roses, we’d closed eyes, feeling the rose petals against our fingertips and possibly soul. In the blink of an eye, the moment ended and we returned to our normal lives. Tragic, a sudden ending to a story that had hardly even begun. I’d often wonder what, where, how and if, if anything, what would have happened. Work, life, the requirements that trap you firmly to a certain point in time, kept us apart until now.

It’s strange, maybe even poetic, but I would often look through the few photos of that day, recalling, reminiscing, but the main photo was of the Café. Just the café. A place, a moment, minutes later, where we actually met. Sure, of course, I could see many photos on social media but I’ve longed to actually return to the place, to re-ignite that moment, firing off the usual stoic stance before the emotion takes over.

It’s not really about the past, or the future. I can always close my eyes, look back, feel, but that will never compare to living right there, in that second, the emotion in real time. If you’re not feeling, if you’re not aware that you’re alive, then a shallow existence awaits us all. I need to feel. I need to embrace. I, more than ever, realise that time is a luxury, afforded to each of us, until it ends and leaves us floating into the void.

Stepping from the plane, each heavy foot finding solid ground, again, after many hours flying through my mind, I smile and start the quickened walk. It’s been far too long, with too many days, even years, between this place and you. We’d met, years previous, in an old French corner café. Your melody escaped me after that day, where we’d caught each other’s imagination and, today, we’re going to create new moments of history. 

Thursday, 23 March 2017

Musical Fairy Tales

Each note, each tone, each solemn word, echoes through the room, into the hall, striking my senses with such comfort. I could sit here, alone, in this room, for hours and hours just listening. It’s not the words, it’s not really the thought of you, it’s the warmth in your voice that soothes me. Comforts me.  Your voice embraces me in ways that cannot be transcribed into words. A fairytale of life.

You could add a string quartet, a violin to pacify the soul, maybe even a brash harpsicle, but that simply wouldn't provide any further satisfaction. You’re a melody of thoughts, you’re a note within history, a musical symphony for my ever tired soul.

Entrancing, melodic, the whispers of words caressing my ears, trickling across my skin and into my heart. Strings, being played, a rhythm to raise the beating heart, flows into my world and I'm taken to a place I never thought I’d ever realise. If I knew that I wouldn't be caught, embarrassed, I’d possibly stand and move to your echo. Each word, I’d close my eyes, imagine, then feel until the song reached its end.

Suddenly, from nowhere, the words cease and my eyes open. Standing, placing the wine onto the table, I leave the room walking into the long corridor. Each footstep, ever closer, realising that each second in this world is precious, a melody that should be appreciated before the song ends.

I peer around the doorway, filling my eyes with the person that’s you. A smile escapes. A big, warm, caring smile. My eyes soften. You turn your head, ever so slightly, realising and, at the same time, recognising that I'm there. Shuffling musical paper, possibly manuscripts, finding the one that you need, the words flow from your heart once again.

I could fashion many thoughts, prescribe myself your words every single day, but one must not over indulge perfection. Your face lights the room as you sing, further moments etching themselves into my consciousness, ensuring that my affection always, always, reaches for you.

There are fairy tales, written by many, featured in sonnets across the entire globe, that fathom such tenderness, such emotion, yet not one compares to each moment with you. Listening to you. The words move the room and I, as I kiss your neck, feel each one of them.

Each note, each tone, each solemn word, echoes through the room, into my heart, soothing my senses with such comfort. I walk across the room, where I could stay, with you, for hours and hours just listening. It’s not the words, it’s not really the thought of you, it’s everything about you. Just you. Your presence makes me feel ways that cannot, will never ever, be transcribed into words. Fairy tales can, sometimes, come true.

Monday, 20 March 2017


There’s tales of legend, of fearsome beasts, ghouls, goblins and Spectres that haunt and taunt until the night turns to darkness. The later days arrive and most of these vanish, evaporate, cease to exist and no longer hold power over us. We were children when these entities first appeared, the very few seconds, where fear gripped our insides and widened young eyes.

Those days, for most, have been replaced with real life spiders or nightmares of another kind. Fear has many names, features many facets, can arrive at any moment but hopefully, truly hopefully, doesn't stay for longer than necessary.

We’re built from many emotions, many moments, all stacked together using sticky tape, gum, kisses, harsh words and more. We've grown, we've escaped, but some are still held captive by their own minds. Just like the old black and white films of old, we know that we could run, vanish in the blink of the eye, but could never usually escape the darkness. Each film, eventually, featuring the star facing their demon and, mostly, winning.

With friends, family, the kind words of others and, above all else, our own mind understanding and comforting us through harsh times, we can help overcome great fear. Usually, in the great scheme, I've never been afraid of anything but, saying that, we’re all afraid of something and, eventually, it will catch up to us just like the movies above.

Some fears don’t feature an insane slasher, a grizzly gnashing crazed bear, or a loopy blood filled bunny. Some fears are of the mental kind and most certainly heart breaking. Fear. Despite the word being a seldom used collection of letters, the meaning, above all, does not have to be bleak or ignored. It’s something to strengthen a person, used to stand further into the sky, closer to a place where we can fly.

When you’re there, about to take a step into the unknown, you can either fear what happens next, or, the way I prefer, you can embrace the change and find adventure.  You can prod the fearsome beast’s throat, you could always laugh at the dragon, un-friend the ghoul, or even just invite the goblins and spectres for dinner (But not in the same room as that could get messy).

Fear is what you make of it or how you form from it. When we were children, finally realising that we exist in the world, we overcame great fear without even knowing it was there. You adapted, you joined in at times, or maybe you didn't, but that’s okay as we’re supposed to be individuals and adapt in differing ways.

Never, ever, let the fear into your open heart. Instead, run head first into the darn thing, capture it, embrace it, hold it, crush it and strive towards something better. After all, at the end of our lives, you might just smile and give in to the biggest fear of all.. leaving the world once and for all. At that point, above all, I’d rather remember all the fear that I conquered instead of remembering the moments where I stepped back. Have fear, have all of it as, when you smile, it’ll make you stronger than you've ever been before.

First post of 2017. I had great plans for this year but life, being such as it is, stepped in and had other plans. 

Mum... I miss you and always will

Wednesday, 30 November 2016


Closing my weary eyes, trying to escape the fear looming like a forgotten friend that’s best left that way, I know that I cannot escape the situation no matter how I evade the scene. Words, some light, many heavy, some destructive and few wishing to bring light, float through the air and no matter how I try there’s no escape from the room. I've, we, all of us, have a fear deep within, the moments that we knew and know were to come.

As a child, you hold the hands of your loved ones, safe, comforted, basking in the warmth that sustains your smile and caresses your heart. We seldom move back to the thoughts of those times, the moments of love, as we’re pre-occupied with the daily life, the hustle to grow up, faster and faster until we’re at the point where we’d actually like to be young again. Children become adults, adults become parents and the cycle continues.

There’s a fable, a warning, a conclusion of sorts, a momentary flicker of thought, that we should all prepare for, many knowing what I'm talking about. We’re frail, we’re weak, we’re but flesh, blood and bone, with imaginations that make us superstars, super heroes, titans of strength and passion, bleeding from our souls with fruitless words and actions.  Our actions belittle the ideal that we’re removed from this world with the flicker of a flame.

Breathing in, remaining calm, with focus, I listen to the words and take them within. My mind wants to scream, to escape, to proclaim that this cannot be. It never happens to you or the people you love. Surely not, you jest, but yesterday this was not the case, with more random thoughts invading sanity.

If I could rewind to yesterday, I’d do x differently, I’d do such and such, but what’s left is a possible y. This isn't maths, or maybe it is, maybe it’s all decided years previous.  No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, I refuse my inner voice access to my thoughts. There will be no torture from within as that not me and that shouldn't be you. There will be smiles, there will be warmth, there will be holding of hands and nothing spoken of pain, tears, hearts breaking or the inner cold that’s infecting my soul. This isn't about me, it’s not about you, as it’s all about someone you love going through something so real that you’re all awakened to the realism that’s called… life.

We have but mere moments, that may stretch to years and years, but in the great scheme of things it’s still that flame’s flicker. Turn to someone you love, listen to someone you adore, caress the lips of those that care and hold their warmth against you. Time is unknown, time is the one thing that’s a mystery, so take that time to hold your own heart and keep it safe.

For the moment, I pray for another day, I'm lucky to see each new day with the person and people that I love. I'm never, ever, going to let those days be wasted. Or say I say, or so I hope with the words I think and write.

Monday, 31 October 2016


The mist crept through the vineyard, possessing a life of its own, with a near endless quantity. Decrepit shards of masonry, strewn across the ground from the old building, littered themselves around the area of a once proud building. Gone, lost, no longer residing within the current world deft of life and charm. Destroyed. Vanquished. Banished from the world many years beforehand.

Stretching his arm, with an uneasy movement, crippled, decayed, near lifeless, he could feel the mist flow through him, on this night, bringing forward life and renewed vigour.  He could feel it, once again, his heart murmuring just under his exposed rib cage. It was his time, that time of year, where he once again had a moment.  Sure, the moments never lasted but minutes, but this was all he desired. There were thoughts of becoming free but, after centuries, such luxuries were pushed aside in favour of recovering as fast as possible. He’d made a promise and he would keep that promise.

A fleeting image passed through his thoughts, that night, this night, where they were dragged from their beds. He could still hear her screaming as his body was pierced multiple times over. Again, then again, with the vendetta that left his last few seconds confused and longing to reach her. As he fell he could feel his spirit, some would say aura, leave his body retreating into the building behind where he fell. Then, darkness, the nothing, the prison of silence and despair.

The first time he returned, the year after, he could barely summon enough energy to stand let alone walk. He’d forgotten, hardly cared, as reaching her was his only vision. He was now striding across through the grass and, as he raised his arm, he could feel the skin slowly returning to his arm and fingers. He was nearly whole, as whole as a person could be in his circumstances, but although he was reaching a new place he reminded himself that time was scarce.

Running over the brow he caught sight of her. As his eyes focused, his heart skipped, nearly stopped, again, but he kept on running. She had formed, was one, looking across to him. As he neared, his pace slowed and, with an outstretched arm, his fingers met hers and they embraced. No thoughts, no pain, ignoring the suffering, her lips met his and his renewed spirit started to glow. “I made you a promise that no matter what happened, even if I died, that I would never, ever, leave you!” he said with tears flowing from his eyes.

A single, solitary, solemn angst filled tear fell from an eye and moved across her lips as she looked up at him, “I knew. I knew that you’d come for me!  They hurt me…”

He placed a finger to her lips, silencing the pain, the agony, “No more. No-one will ever hurt you again!”

As they renewed their embrace, emotions flowing through them, he felt his skin vanish and, as he looked into her eyes, knowing that their bodies were vanishing in front of them, they both smiled. As their bones fell he could feel his spirit, finally, together with hers and, as they both flickered, they knew that had beaten the people that had damned them to be apart.

After all, he damn well knew that a man’s promise should always, always, be upheld with honour no matter the centuries.

Happy Halloween.

Friday, 28 October 2016


I recall the hours, filled with the seconds of you, exciting, inspiring, including smiles and those looks between us. We were flying high, right up there in the sky, never wanting to fall or to come down. I used to hold you, never ever scolding you, as we were both free spirits combined into one.  There were even words spoken, of love, of being together forever, but like many real life fairy tales the dreams came true but they couldn't, wouldn't, ever last.

Instead, in the wake of the events that followed, I instead become truly a person of one. Me, I, just the singular, realising that the love I show myself is the most magical aspect of life for a person to understand. We’re all alone, even when surrounded by people, trapped within, realising each and every sin, we commit to ourselves and others.

Life might forgive me, may forget us, but the heart still beats, it still recalls, still imagines a new place. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I still miss you, I always will, even if I share my bed with another, share my kisses with a few, you’re still there amongst the thoughts smiling as you did.

I’ll never forget you. Ever.

Love x

P.s. Standard disclaimer to the people that know me: No hidden meaning here. Just listening to a song and writing!

Saturday, 17 September 2016


Originally written around April 2008. Excuse the lack of punctuation, extra long sentences and mistakes.  I try not to change what has already been set in stone.

She looked down at the desk, at the small scrap of paper curled into a ball, at the old pen beside the paper and most of all, at the desk itself. Her eyes felt heavy, tired, weary, struggling to bridge the words inside onto the paper that now rested on the table. Lyrics, at times, seemed to flow with beauty, with ease, but understanding on this day, a day of days, had not arose as easily as they should have. Muddled, slightly here, a little there, but obviously not quite whole, she closed her eyes.

In that second, she imagined herself in another place, somewhere completely different from the desk, from the room that her spirit frequented each day, somewhere serene.  In a second, with her mind seeing the moment, she stood in the middle of a sea of green, a world filled with long, waist high flowing grass. Her eyes opened to see the flowing sun around her, with a bright blue sky above and slow birds flying as high as any kite. The world slowed, almost halted in time, peace, a place to envision.. everything, anything, nothing, any moment, any time and most of all, to explore.

The long free grass moved softly, side to side, back and forth, with the gentle soft wind pressing the grass as if it were a kiss. She lifted her hands to rest on top of the grass and moved forward, towards the tree in the distance, not that far away, just enough, just that distance away to appreciate the gentle walk. Her hair moved with the romantic wind, the air that gently caressed her soft face, as if it simply wished to hold her, comfort her, touching with such care and attention, that every breeze seemed like there was love all around. 

She span around with a twirl, head looking into the warm sky, freedom, not a worry in this peaceful garden of her imagination, a place that exhumed the way things could be, had been, will be, again and again, as long as she remembered. A smile grew, her hair relaxed from the spin and her body exhaled such strength at the freedom, bliss and tranquillity. She reached the tree and sat down, with her back to the ageless bark.

Time once again stood still as she looked across the endless scene of blue sky and green slender thought, each strand moving with said tender romantic kisses. Here, this place, this moment, held such power, freedom, a place and chance to dream, to clear the clouds from her sky. Leaning forward, She picked a buttercup from the ground and gently moved it across her cheek, feeling the soft petals as she again looked out across the vista. Amazing.

Just at that second, she closed her eyes again, opened her ears and just... listened. There was the wind, again, making itself known, ensuring that it’s warm touches were not forgotten amongst the sound of grass moving, birds chirping and shadows that didn’t exist with closed eyes. This place, this imaginative moment, calmed every, single, small, thought and feeling. She opened her eyes and looked at the desk, pen and paper. Life always posed such possibilities, such situations that exposed her resolve, chipping at her confidence, wrestling with her doubt, then, often providing unimaginable sparks.  She picked up the paper, using both hands to unravel, to place the same paper, unfolded, onto the desk. With pen in hand, she carried on writing:

This morning I awoke to a sea of green, to a sky of blue, with strands of thought as real as you

The air held me in its arms and moved the sky above........