2 September 2013
This is my new piano. It’s in my bedroom. I have a piano in my bedroom. This is a great feeling.
Morning posts. Ah, morning… we meet again. I don’t want to keep being so slow-going through September. I’ll be much happier to get up and get out and get writing and get moving and get going.
I’m still a little bit in mourning. I’m still trying to warm up to September, where my year has always started.
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you’ll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open
Thanks for sharing the video yesterday — Sarah shared it with me a few weeks ago, and I felt the same way. I have a lot to talk about spoken word, about slam poetry, and a lot about the heart of life. The things we carry with us. The boxes we create and keep ourselves inside, until they become our addresses. Thanks for sharing everything yesterday.
To start with, here is the link to my interview from last week.
Let me know what you think.