Snippets of poemtree , glimpses of photomagraphs and general bits and bobs
The horse was standing in a field. The horse did not know that it had killed. A life was gone , he had no care. He didnt know it was even there. He went that way every day.
The wine had got inside my head And made me wish I was in bed Cos this morning I can't stop yawning And I couldn't stop the day from dawning.
The monkey seed and the monkey dooed. But no one watched the monkeys mood. The monkeys mood had to turned to sorrow. When the monkey had to borrow. The tools it needed for the tricks.
Today I will be worshiping in the church of the wide open sky.
I've got a call from open spaces. I've got a call from lonely places. Get away from foreign sound. Barefoot walk on open ground. Ive got a fear of built up spaces. A growing fear of busy places.
Somebody asked me today to describe what I thought about art and why I loved creating pieces of art and it led me to write this "My idea of art is when an everyday object or something created by...
A UFO came from outer space. To say hallo to the human race. In the craft were many aliens. That wanted to meet the homo sapiens. They landed in a muddy bog. Where midget Dave liked to walk his dog.
Without art we are just monkeys with car keys Unknown.
Portly belly and eyes so round. Driftwood and plastic and things that were found. Braithwaite was born on a cold winters day. But on that beach he wasnt to stay. Next to be born was a beautiful dame.
The Chief he rounded up his men. And built himself a secret den. A place to hide a place to plot. A place to go when the earth got hot. There was no helping the humankind.
They bought him back from the dead Minton socks we need they said Were running out of plastic things And shiny coloured plastic rings To sell to people every day They need the plastic so they say...
I climb up high and down below. I watch the sea and water flow. People wander children play. But high up here is where I'll stay. Watch the gulls circle high. I sometimes wish that I could fly.
You said you'd be 10 minutes more. 10 minutes more I'm at the door. Nerves are shot and shred to pieces. Dream of time when chaos ceases. To disturb my soul and cause me pain.
I once met Chief Minton Socks. With beardy face and curly locks. he ruled the roost with an iron fist. And in the morning gave out a list. Of things to do and things to mend.
I want to paint what I think But my mind is on the brink Of falling down a deep dark well A place you do not want to dwell No ladder to escape the night Just need wings and I'll take flight.