RIP was only talking about him with mum and dad the other day, they saw the young ali train in ghana back in 64… the year before i was born… wowsers he was their, already with a burgeoning interest in pan african and civil rights issues… (thanks flaps for showing me the lrb article, pic probs nigeria on same trip) oh and as someone else pointed out watch ‘when we were kings’, a fascinating, beautiful film… in his pomp such a gabble and flamboyant swagger! okey doke tweed jacket costume on… wedding bound xxx
eu referendum polling card belly flopped through the letterbox this morning i shall be voting to remain not (of course!) for specifically rational reasons, tho probably some of those exist, in brief, i am passionately pro european, having been fortunate enough to live in various countries in europe, wish to do so again and would like my kids to have that wonderful opportunity too furthermore i love the fact that folk from other countries can come and live and work here, French, German, Spanish, Portugese, Polish, Czech, Lithuanians etc… exotic polyglot cultural bamboozlement! they’ve bought so much vibrancy and fun to the frequently staid british culture and greatly enriched my life …. and yes i appreciate that the referendum is not specifically about this…. also that the european union is profoundly flawed, that it innately panders to vested corporate interests but hey ho, what if we do opt out as murdoch and so many others on the ultra right wish us to do? which is worse? the eu or the abhorrent evil of this current conservative government… archetype of all the worst aspects of crony capitalism not much of a choice in truth! sadly i don’t expect to see a checkbox for ‘click here for socialist utopia’ on the ballot form disregarding cameron, osborne and their constant evil disgusting fear mongering, both the greens and the labour party are in favour of remaining … politico/economic issues aside, i personally feel it is also a battle of stories…. yeah, yeah the media feeds us so much of that old person stodge ‘britain, island nation, once was great, blah blah’… doubt that was ever true! i live on the coast, if i go up to the cliffs on a clear night, grok at the abundant majesty of the stars… then, yes, see somewhere in the distance the orange neon glow of the lights of france! .. turn the other way, can i see London? nope just the blooming incinerator (this may not be strictly true, but round the coast a bit, you can see France from up by hastings castle). the channel should be seen as something that connects, not something that divides, trade in the ancient world was by sea the coast has always been an abundant realm of edge, with trade comes ideas, knowledge, culture… pizza … and philosophy many of my ancestors came from over yonder there, a mongrel ancestry is always healthier, more interesting … and our beautiful language? one which i take such delight in mangling! why we are blessed with twin strands in its very dna, anything in english can be said in words from either a brusque germanic tradition or using the waftier gabble of latinate language… groovy! I would wish that our society, rather than being insular, inward looking, should face outwards, have a generous confidence in itself… to be welcoming to others, accepting of difference … and yes, this should be true both with our european neighbours and the refugees and migrants camped on the doorstep… oops i seem to have meandered off piste… nothing new there, nuff said… i’ll be voting to stay
Hotter than Ibiza? ‘Colder than a well diggers arse’ as Tom waits would say… First sea swim of year…. Bit tardier than last yeArs bike ride epic, but not too shabby… Pic needs a camel tho!
season of the nettle… early morning (before work) foray up the hillside to snip some stingers! sacred to mars, robust and bristling with vigour, midst the sweet succulence of spring… Red with Iron, they always flourish on disturbed ground… and love being around man… apparently the Romans brought them over… along with the sweet chestnut can just see them trudging up Watling Street, through puddles, whilst munching on a nettle sandwich… ‘oi spartacus, youv’e got spinach, no nettle, stuck between your teeth… again’ … off to grapple with some celts (‘the long and winding woad!’) anyway, midst the early morning dew i assumed the appropriate stance, beat my chest three times …. then gave them the finger… they appreciate such theatrical bawdiness donned the sacred gauntlet, unsheathed the ceremonial knife (marigolds and blunt rusty scissors) and clipped away! only the toppest freshest tips… a few years back i inflicted nettle soup on the kids and greta… gruel… so today its gonna be penne with nettle and walnut pesto washed down with a swig of whiskey (doesn’t count if its straight from the bottle)… and some montezuma chilli chocolate. kinda yum! x
one of my fave pics from last couple of weeks… always somewhat on the side of the dragon, but in this vibrant golden ethiopian folk icon, ‘george’ looks like a woman… or Prince for that matter! x
The Brute throttled Red of Tulips, do like a splash of colour in the park, drawn even deeper with the lack of sun of course, the hillside plump with gorse, canary yellow, refulgent with the summer pong of coconut butter over the brim, yes, the wild, wild grey dirge of the sea
Knight of Cups ……..
audio of text
this morning, whilst daydream pottering over a cup of Mint and Liquorice tea found myself being stared down by a cat through the window, Obsidian stillness, killer gaze curious, goes deep, this the knowledge of being watched, for once we were hunters… and the sometimes hunted i would prefer wolves? yes she will come, and there will be many but before, face you down, a moment of stillness, you will know it will happen, you will know but a leopard? face in the bush? part of that the nameless dread… dropping silently from above, else stealth pounce, all claw, fang then rend… the candle wick of life, snuffed to nothingness ….
audio of text
yeah yeah psssssht, shoo… go poo in someone elses garden!… ha, gosh gibberish, fortunately don’t get many leopards, or for that matter wolves round these thar parts
These the weeks of leaf spawn every branch, every tree, bud burgeoning forth, stickily, unfurling into a majesty of leaf and blossom something of gossamer, a slither, a shimmer, each bush, coming into the pomp of full summer regalia yesterday in surrey, midst the sunshine, the hillside awash with the blowsy froth spray of white blossoms a tumult upon us! tho long the clandestine growth, a surreptitious summoning each branch, so recently a brittle looking stick, dowdy within its surround of mud puddle, now, pulsing with lurid colour and vibrancy the tweetle twerp of bird song!… rapture in miniature… the local, the particular… this is mine… yes! i am here! whatever the creak of bone, the reluctance of limb, so too, this season always makes my heart sing
audio of text
ha! i write the same thing every time, as does the spring… making, imagining, the same different same… its rhythmic, insistent beauty ………………………….. ….. classic portmanteau post…. i finally turned the clock in the car forward… yes, as well you might have noticed, the seasons have changed and heres Finns brief vid of ping pong… impressive he filmed anything one handed… just a genteel warm up, but such a reassuring sound the plunkety plonk… and i rather enjoyed the finale of his failed lunge and groan!
