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Sunday, November 18, 2012


about a live blog writing written writ

write wrote writ right wright rote
a verse a song a said saying spoken
in the minds playground

query mind dream scape recall logs
context movies poems stories
told seen watched written

domain equals Ireland

sweaters wool home made stew dew ocean fog cloud mist brew ale brown whiskey sound of damp ground smell coffee peat bog smell wet wood creating leather dampness felt in the bones melodies wafting across landscape of the absurd dream random stone work standing stone desolate farm equipment somewhere cowbell  silence wind in the moor

spirit soul poet romance longing always longing eternal mists of veiled worlds close yet far fairies goblins a troll or two mermaids harpies and maidens with curly long hair and ruddy cheeks impish suggestions in the eyes the landscape says all this

narrow lanes to inlets straight over the moor roads in mists drips windscreen grey the souls of ancestors who are familiar that I never knew

ireland calls me

dreams wool sweaters and stories in human pathos rich wood dark from oil and soap low rooms long and narrow fire smoke and laughter murmurs in the corner how many working blades here

whiskey and wool oatmeal porridge and stew strong cheese and bread

ireland calls me

wandering in my dreams the ancestors leave notes to find my way home


to the mist 

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