Photography: From The Archive 01

Got sidetracked into actually looking at the pictures while backing up some old files. Realising that I haven't put anything up here for ...erm, a while, I thought I'd put some previously unseen photos, well, up here.

Poem: Birthday Poem For Lizzie Roberts #2

Hair long. Hair short. Hair extensions.

Blonde. Ash. Dark. Light. Shades.

Many people. One person.

Standing at the bus stop, early morning, traffic
Rolling by, all fumes and other lives.

We are the lives we lead, and
The lives we lead can change at any moment.

Tired, flu-filled, hung-over, whatever,
We are

Ourselves. You are

Yourself. And you

Stand at the edge of a cliff every day.
Stand proud on the pavement every day.
Stand proud in Superdrug on working days.
Sleep proud under the duvet on other days.

You are in a daze, most days.
You’re just a craze, most days.

You are ablaze, every day.
What would the world do without you?

The world can’t do without you.

Do what you do.
Be what you are, be that who, be who you are, be you.

In you every day the world is renewed.

Poem: 20.12.2012

Another day with a date that is
Significantly insignificant.

I got up after a strange but wonderful
   dream that I can no longer remember,

Danced to work inhaling pop music on a bus,

Interacted with my colleagues and
   customers in the usual pleasurable manner,

Eyed my crush from the corners of my eyes,

Interacted with my father and with my best
   friend via the medium of text message,

Read a good book while drinking, smoking
   and listening to nostalgia.

In short, an ordinary day.

20 December 2012

Poem: 12.12.12

The passing permanence of a
Pleasingly portentous date
Is something to be revelled in,
Despite its insignificance.

The fake notes and numbers hung upon
Artificial divisions set down in
The click of clocks in created seconds,
The calendar drawn up, hung,

Are prime examples of the illusions
We hang our lives upon,
And 12.12.12 is a reminder
That our world is printed over

The real Earth turning underneath
As we walk from day to day
And stand here in our painted place:
The fiction that we take for fact.

12 December 2012

Photography: Sunday October 21 2012

So, anyway, here are some images one might glimpse, if one happened to be ambling about Edinburgh on an autumnal Sunday in October 2012...

Poem: God Save The Queen

And the natives wear garlands –
Do they always wear garlands?
I doubt it.

Still, the food’s good.

Weddings. They tell me the whole world’s watching,
On various channels.

I watch my grandchildren.

The schedule – another red carpet
Leads up to an aircraft;
My husband admires the hardware.

I’ve done it so often, I do it so often,
So many years since I was me.

Think of me:

The only one silent as they sing the National Anthem.

29 June 2011

Poem: Anniversary Poem

Eleven long low years;
Eleven short slipped years.

A service to the nation.
A service to the poor.
A firework display.
A midnight crawl.
A thousand laid low words.
A hundred sweet sung notes.
A collision of hope.
A collision of sorts.
A collection of thoughts.
A connection of birds.

Eleven low left years;
Eleven sun stained years:
All I have to give.

All I gave I take back,
All I have you gave,
All you gave you will take back:
How many long low years?

28 June 1997