A rebel without a clue.

Another working week begins, it's dark around six but the traffic noise drifting from the A1 to the east is building constantly. Summer is almost gone with October just around the corner. Crows chatter, pipes groan, wood creaks - all in the dawn blue - and I'm awake before it's supposed "healthy" however I know being awake naturally when the day begins is truer to my being. A spider spins its web by the back patio doors ready for another day catching lives. The sky is ribbed and carries broken clouds, to the east is a purple pink glow. It's going to be a lovely morning a blackbird sings. The dawn chorus only somewhat smothered by the sounds floating to me from the A1. Someone shouts on York Road breaking the moment. Back inside, brewing tea, I wonder how much the spider registers of this same beginning - does it experience everything as I do while setting it's trap? Is it a habit waking prior to the dawn? It's the only time of day when I feel nature h...

On the road home I pop in to step around Delayed accord Peace between dreams Muddy tread! Some buckthorn soured device. Another bearded Fool Plays random LP. He's not interested! Because no one listens In. And, out of his time, Two suggest something like Caring? But they've borrowed looks Bothered before being And fingered a wilting crust Mouth bound. No track skipping Beats. Gone where the road grows Narrow. There is no force at work Girls pneumatic chased Towards implicit doom. Yawn, My own deviation dragged Me forthright and carried me, Chin first, where My life screams: No!

Feeling the end is near The rest I had today sunk me Towards the true light Where none of this pain strikes Little more waiting And less pain forming There is a Spanish enclave Never once spoken of Up upon a mountain, I sigh to tread, Another path Where you is lost And I am found. To find the me Hidden in the dust Scratched below the dirt Blown under those silicates Between beetle battling grains And the warp of wavering life, Overwhelming dessicate, But shining through! It gleams And suggests fault free Inspiration. Justice stands Apart these Untrue visions Disgracing me And all I see is myopic Triste; begone! In uncharted ways Be brave and step forward Youth in spirit Blithe and totally Corporal; alive!

It could be worse? The town of my formation. Kills me Off. It's probably necessary, because it's driven me to anonymity. And the kind of look I think suspects get? All for dog shit And all for a left bag of dog shit. It's welcome and despised.

Can anything be truly described? Language is an approximate thing. Florid words, a simile or metaphor Alternatives struck from a Thesaurus ... To be a witness doesn't require requisition. Yet we are very wordy persons Where quantity and quality are licked.

A great day. No idea what to expect. Frightened of the size of the arena and the number of people in that narrow confined space. Explained me to the people meeting and greeting. They assured me if anything was needed only to ask. The Ashes. First time I've willingly gone amongst crowds and crowds. Got into the party atmosphere. Threw red wine all over the couple on the row in front of me when I took part in the "stand-up" chsnt spreading from the Western Terrace.

Chaos Disorder Not belonging Towers pointing. Pavements brutalised Paper dropped reckless McDonald's mustard Fag ends, disproportionate. Splattered chewing gum Dust fallen on a Disregarded world Fires burning, Cigarettes harming Look at this? No lichen crawling Only hands scrawling. Pretend to sweep And polish the thoroughfares. Respect? Aretha Franklin... And I feel nothing but barren. Hopeless. But wasn't hope in Pandora's box? Pessimistic. I am a half empty person. But the GP says "don't let the bastards grind you down!" Throw me a buoy before I sink.