Good Friday TV

So where's the Ben-Hur?

Handkerchief

Thoughts of you sprinkle

as soft raindops in spring

close my eyes

feel the memories wash over me

This land

Scorched by sorrow

Tender blooms

Struggle to life.

I shiver from the cold

Longing for the hand

Of the friend that led me

Through shadows

Days when we used our handkerchiefs

to cover our mouths in laughter

Happy silence made up the best conversation.

I cast an eye

To a tattered piece of cloth

Missing the scent of happy tears...

I wonder if they were mine or hers.

Let me listen to the siren's call

I want to swim in their melody

Grasp only the music

Tear me away from this ship's mast

Let me drown in sweet bitterness

and embrace oblivion

The grind

I often pause to think every work day just before I reach for the elevator button. It taks about twenty seconds for it to reach the ground floor, barring stops along the way. In those 20 seconds I find myself wondering how ill at ease I still am over being in the corporate scene.

Suit and tie, organisers and filofaxes, memos and performance targets...

It feels so alien all of a sudden and then there is that supreme urge to turn and run full flight. Run away from the prison of office work, stale food and caffeine addiction. Where you get a balanced diet of corporate meos, client compalits and unending software updates.

Wasn't it easier when all you had to worry about was staying alive and avoid getting sued.

I try and think about the last time I talked to my old professor about writing. She said I could make an impact and shape the world. ot seems the onnly shaping I am up to lately is the clay I mold for stress relief.

Ping.

The elevator arrives and I get in. How sad. It seems that the elevator music has a more somber and funeral march tune today. By the time I step out of it this evening, I feel more have my being has been lost in the elevator. What ever it was, was left behind when I went up, or stayed behind as I came down.

Tommorow, I lose a little bit more.

Bookshelves and record stores

Spent the day trying to decide what new book or album to buy.

Looking back, just to think of it of the past five albums I bought only one was recorded in the last five years.

Ok, maybe I've listened to Scissor Sisters and a bit of Franz Ferdidnand and the Libertines, but that its. A passing interest. Never bought the albums. Heck, I was even happier to grab Beach Boy's "Pet Sounds" and Miles Davis's "Kind of Blue" when they went on the cheap than grab even the new U2 Album. (Listening to Good Vibrations, Beach boys on Launchcast)

I suck. I can pretty much name most of the big acts from the 60's to the late 90's, but anything this century? (Country House, Blur)

Ok, maybe Joss Stone and Coldplay, but those are exceptions.

I can't keep track anymore. Maybe It's just easier to listen to stuff your used to.

The same goes for books nowadays.

I've barely read half of the classic books I wanted tro read this year, there are dozens of new ones that I want to read but will, never be able to.

How are you be up to date with the new, when you barely can keep track? (Urgh, Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice. Good grief, didn't I win some dance competition in Primary school with this song?)

Maybe I'll be lucky that way. When my grandchildren loot my attic, they might not get wierded out that much. Come on, I have an old Saturday Night Fever LP to brag about (very good condition).

How many of these Number One's will we remember anyhow?

How many do you remember from the past three years?

How many do you still listen to? (Hey, Into the groove, Madonna. I remember this one!)

I really should try and expand more. There's that new James Patterson book (I think) they say is good. And then there is that KT Tunstall Album they're talking about...

Sigh... it was easier when I went on that classical music run. Ah.. Segovia, Williams, Westenra.

Well, excuse me while I go and slip on my Nirvana album and take another crack at War and Peace. ( Has anyone out there finished it? Can never get past 3/5).

Warmth of winter

I want the snow to fall again.

Wrap myself in the pale duvet,

have the earth as my pillow

Feeling the heavens tucking me in

A nap uninterrupted...

Musings of fallen angels

Have to start somewhere.

When you wake up and realise your room is full of shoebox memories that you don't wish to open, how do throw things out?

You don't.

You just put them on a shelf, sing about it or forget about it.

Well, I'm out of shelf space, can't sing and just can't forget.

So I'll write about it.

That and everything else that goes with it.

Day one.