* Martin Kettle, laughing loudly, like an empty wallet, flushed, but not flush, and head of table, accepting a few Kronenbourg, raises his special birthday tankard, says thank you, all, and tells his Brass In Pocket story. We'd all heard it before, but it flowed from him, sounding a lot like lore to me. I … Continue reading Martin Kettle’s Brass In Pocket.
whisper | ˈ(h)wispər | verb speak very softly using one's breath without one's vocal cords. literary (of leaves, wind, or water) rustle or murmur softly. [usually in singular] a slight trace; a hint: ORIGIN Old English hwisprian, of Germanic origin; related to German wispeln, from the imitative base of whistle https://youtu.be/dP3QOi1Nb7A A reading of I Whispered, from the forthcoming collaborative volume of new lyrical ballads, Archery In The … Continue reading I Whispered.
Moonlight milk and honey balm Croham Hurst's acred boughs. Sacred beech, I approach, heavy browed, with gift for the archbishop's palm. . His Grace, at the bar, dishevelled glasses, resplendent, resembling ale keg, East German anarchist, bon viveur, hedge, and cavalier, proves himself a carefree dancer. . With ceremony of taper, of mantled candles: tea … Continue reading Ceremony at 19:19
01:01:23 The Fall are holding auditions at Rock Bottom Studios, so I decide to go along. When I arrive the group are a vast collection of known and unknown players; the room is crowded. I notice Joe F sat in a corner noodling about on a guitar. He is one of several guitarists and now … Continue reading dream diaries… 115
epiphany | əˈpifənē | noun (plural epiphanies) (also Epiphany) the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1–12). • the festival commemorating the Epiphany on January 6. • a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being. • a moment of sudden revelation or insight. https://youtu.be/TI5O7W6veZc Selected from the forthcoming Experiments In Fiction release, Archery In The U.K. (New Lyrical Ballads & Other Poems) by Ingrid … Continue reading Twelfth Night Regards.
Coupled beneath heavy blankets they dozed, untroubled by weather; inspired, betroved. After first, second, third, breakfast, they rose; shadows in candlelight glow, unclothed. The kissing of hallowed relics in Durham is allowed, I’ve heard. As is the giving of chips to crows. In the cenotaph garden at Amble, the clocks are still, for the living. … Continue reading The Best of Whitney Houston.
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