Note to self: I need to buy an old Nick Drake LP as soon as humanly possible
Mystical strangeness indeed today. Have never seen one of these, in three years of looking - but today my vinyl charity shop had a whole load of new stuff in - top of the pile was this one
Now I do indeed own a Nick Drake record! 4 days on from publishing my request I must try this more often!
Feeling gratitude towards whoever is running the universe
hmmm..... I must keep this special "wishing well" here in mind!
and look, for you, it was only days, not weeks, that passed.
( and WOW! ! too ! :shock: )
in keeping with time
dirt of, with, and to
all for one necessary
come the first of tomorrow
I'm keeping love with mine
love with is mine
it's such a stronger word, is to
like keeping love with mine
or one keeping four not one or two
like love keeping love with mine
Rollings, this piece is so fucking good I feel it deserves a thread of its own. Stunning. The writing is so 'tight' - I don't know how else to express it
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
in keeping with time
dirt of, with, and to
all for one necessary
come the first of tomorrow
I'm keeping love with mine
love with is mine
it's such a stronger word, is to
like keeping love with mine
or one keeping four not one or two
like love keeping love with mine
Rollings, this piece is so fucking good I feel it deserves a thread of its own. Stunning. The writing is so 'tight' - I don't know how else to express it
+1 Nice!
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man [or woman] who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
stay with me a while longer next time
stay with me til I can't wait until you have to leave
like old times
you and I are way too similar
to ever get anywhere at all
way too fragile in all the same places
way too strong in all the same
yet seeing you still lights the room up, the colours swell and burst
only not quite like they used to
when the colours bled out of the walls
and seeped into my every soul
Blessed are the signs of age
the fuses that just turn the temperature right down
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
stay with me a while longer next time
stay with me til I can't wait until you have to leave
like old times
you and I are way too similar
to ever get anywhere at all
way too fragile in all the same places
way too strong in all the same
yet seeing you still lights the room up, the colours swell and burst
only not quite like they used to
when the colours bled out of the walls
and seeped into my every soul
Blessed are the signs of age
the fuses that just turn the temperature right down
stay with me a while longer next time
stay with me til I can't wait until you have to leave
like old times
you and I are way too similar
to ever get anywhere at all
way too fragile in all the same places
way too strong in all the same
yet seeing you still lights the room up, the colours swell and burst
only not quite like they used to
when the colours bled out of the walls
and seeped into my every soul
Blessed are the signs of age
the fuses that just turn the temperature right down
stay with me til I can't wait until you have to leave
.............................
yet seeing you still lights the room up
seriously, this and everything else you said,
you just said
just right.
Thankyou. You are kind
stay with me until I'm sick of the sight of you
until I'm gasping for some air
until I sense your train rumbling away into the blackness of the night
and feel the pang of your presence clinging to every lonely wall
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
several weeks pass
and still in rounding past the part of
the past which we did
I couldn't breathe upon hearing yours
passed off and left for sleeping--but alive to me...
awake as I'll ever be
warm as home on the walls from where it used to be
expanding and contracting like we do
saying our acts of digestion
while sparkling specks of blissfulness
become sun spots for the honey moon
always looking down on something
always peering in the window from outside
always trying to stay one step ahead
of the gnawing feeling
gnawing at my guts
this year we learn
one step ahead is still enough
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
but after these weeks have passed
(and each night)
the howling
haunts from the back through both sides to the front
which is hard to do
from the middle of nowhere
a sound actually heard when midnight goes from left to right past you
when body dissolves
with it the sense of solidity
leaving only bones
and the howling starts
the terror of annihilation comes with
the feeling of being tiny, being swept aside
gone are the comfort zones the air bags the shock absorbers the springs
with it the trembling bones shaking and raking within the metal can
beyond this is the wind
to feel pure breeze deep inside
beyond the chill
and inside the shivering void
is a gust, a gale, a breath
being breathed through to find new life
way beyond the fear of protecting all we've amassed
mass gives way to exposure and tenderness
before it's renewed
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Note to self: I need to buy an old Nick Drake LP as soon as humanly possible
Mystical strangeness indeed today. Have never seen one of these, in three years of looking - but today my vinyl charity shop had a whole load of new stuff in - top of the pile was this one
Now I do indeed own a Nick Drake record! 4 days on from publishing my request I must try this more often!
Feeling gratitude towards whoever is running the universe
Nick Drake an vinyl-- AWESOME!! :thumbup:
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man [or woman] who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
time passes, a year passes
and my thoughts click with every word
like the cogs on an imperfect machine
looking back it feels reassuring
to recognise nonsense as nonsense
anger as anger
and desperation as fact
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
always looking down on something
always peering in the window from outside
always trying to stay one step ahead
of the gnawing feeling
gnawing at my guts
this year we learn
one step ahead is still enough
but after these weeks have passed
(and each night)
the howling
haunts from the back through both sides to the front
which is hard to do
from the middle of nowhere
a sound actually heard when midnight goes from left to right past you
when body dissolves
with it the sense of solidity
leaving only bones
and the howling starts
the terror of annihilation comes with
the feeling of being tiny, being swept aside
gone are the comfort zones the air bags the shock absorbers the springs
with it the trembling bones shaking and raking within the metal can
beyond this is the wind
to feel pure breeze deep inside
beyond the chill
and inside the shivering void
is a gust, a gale, a breath
being breathed through to find new life
way beyond the fear of protecting all we've amassed
mass gives way to exposure and tenderness
before it's renewed
you two - tremors & rollings - are inspiring. the writing that has filled up in here is simply great. so much grit, and edge. and just everything wonderful - too much to pick out - i'd probably end up picking each thing out . i've had to re-read things again and again.
your writing compliment's each others so well, it's fun to read and see how each poem bounces off each other. or flows from the previous one. there is definitely this flow to it. great to see, seriously.
electric friends feel something they don't
terribly uncertain of which way to go
'to whom do I speak?'
matters not
in the grand scheme of things
things in the grand scheme of things
often get lost
melting like ice cubes into the ocean of something
us, seeking something, often one thin thread is enough
just the faintest glimmer of humanity
to recognise another
stranger heart beating
my light is back on
I hear two clocks ticking
it's restful
it's always restful before midnight
after that things get decidedly worse
^it's like you read my mind, tremors, just like that other poem i pm'd you about. this one resonates with me, it's crazy how much. definitely a favourite and one that i'll come back to read again and again.
Surely not more favourite than three posts in the 'Pics where Eddie looks Hot' thread?
thank you very much for your words Pilate. Yes, I am always inspired by Rollings' writing. It's nice to turn around words ideas and images with another soul. Glad you are getting something from it too!
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
you two - tremors & rollings - are inspiring. the writing that has filled up in here is simply great. so much grit, and edge. and just everything wonderful - too much to pick out - i'd probably end up picking each thing out . i've had to re-read things again and again.
your writing compliment's each others so well, it's fun to read and see how each poem bounces off each other. or flows from the previous one. there is definitely this flow to it. great to see, seriously.
Thank you so much for taking the time to say all that you did, Pilate.
You have a gift of expression yourself (don't be afraid to join us if you want to)
top skull only protects so much
exposed caught up with
raw nerves and you're tumbling
tumbling full up and down backwards
the heavens sing
it's your first reaction
today I returned two hundred years
sat by the auburn pool
and heard the trees whisper again
it took me back to the place when I escaped to this
my oxygen
calm rustling England outside their stagnant little trap
I realise that deep within me, under the layers is an open man
with nothing but the riches of a Chinese monk
owning nothing, not thinking but
breathing in the landscape
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
today I returned two hundred years
sat by the auburn pool
and heard the trees whisper again
it took me back to the place when I escaped to this
my oxygen
calm rustling England outside their stagnant little trap
I realise that deep within me, under the layers is an open man
with nothing but the riches of a Chinese monk
owning nothing, not thinking but
breathing in the landscape
tremulous and terrifying
walking to the end of the pier in the dark
sand and pebbles somewhere below
and the smell, the sound of the sea
sensing the edge
before you've even taken the step
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
all through the day time darkness comes in still
still when it got here? I heard myself asking
asking no one held the key hole wide open that much
much not for me nor to my knowledge
knowledge for that very commotion is why back shutters are lifting
lifting like night is when I left for you
you are like knowledge I like so I live there
there's where I live its a start afterall
either that or I'll find a mental hole
Comments
hmmm..... I must keep this special "wishing well" here in mind!
and look, for you, it was only days, not weeks, that passed.
( and WOW! ! too !
Rollings, this piece is so fucking good I feel it deserves a thread of its own. Stunning. The writing is so 'tight' - I don't know how else to express it
Send my credentials to the house of detention
+1 Nice!
stay with me til I can't wait until you have to leave
like old times
you and I are way too similar
to ever get anywhere at all
way too fragile in all the same places
way too strong in all the same
yet seeing you still lights the room up, the colours swell and burst
only not quite like they used to
when the colours bled out of the walls
and seeped into my every soul
Blessed are the signs of age
the fuses that just turn the temperature right down
Send my credentials to the house of detention
dido
Godfather.
Balls, Tremors, just that.
you are awesome, man.
seriously, this and everything else you said,
you just said
just right.
Thankyou. You are kind
stay with me until I'm sick of the sight of you
until I'm gasping for some air
until I sense your train rumbling away into the blackness of the night
and feel the pang of your presence clinging to every lonely wall
Send my credentials to the house of detention
and still in rounding past the part of
the past which we did
I couldn't breathe upon hearing yours
passed off and left for sleeping--but alive to me...
awake as I'll ever be
warm as home on the walls from where it used to be
expanding and contracting like we do
saying our acts of digestion
while sparkling specks of blissfulness
become sun spots for the honey moon
Send my credentials to the house of detention
always peering in the window from outside
always trying to stay one step ahead
of the gnawing feeling
gnawing at my guts
this year we learn
one step ahead is still enough
Send my credentials to the house of detention
(and each night)
the howling
haunts from the back through both sides to the front
which is hard to do
from the middle of nowhere
a sound actually heard when midnight goes from left to right past you
with it the sense of solidity
leaving only bones
and the howling starts
the terror of annihilation comes with
the feeling of being tiny, being swept aside
gone are the comfort zones the air bags the shock absorbers the springs
with it the trembling bones shaking and raking within the metal can
beyond this is the wind
to feel pure breeze deep inside
beyond the chill
and inside the shivering void
is a gust, a gale, a breath
being breathed through to find new life
way beyond the fear of protecting all we've amassed
mass gives way to exposure and tenderness
before it's renewed
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Nick Drake an vinyl-- AWESOME!! :thumbup:
and my thoughts click with every word
like the cogs on an imperfect machine
looking back it feels reassuring
to recognise nonsense as nonsense
anger as anger
and desperation as fact
Send my credentials to the house of detention
my favourite three consecutive posts. ever.
they are beyond brilliant.
you two - tremors & rollings - are inspiring. the writing that has filled up in here is simply great. so much grit, and edge. and just everything wonderful - too much to pick out - i'd probably end up picking each thing out
your writing compliment's each others so well, it's fun to read and see how each poem bounces off each other. or flows from the previous one. there is definitely this flow to it. great to see, seriously.
^favourite things I've read that you've written. identifying with a lot in here but perhaps those two and the one below, the most?....it's beautiful.
^it's like you read my mind, tremors, just like that other poem i pm'd you about. this one resonates with me, it's crazy how much. definitely a favourite and one that i'll come back to read again and again.
Surely not more favourite than three posts in the 'Pics where Eddie looks Hot' thread?
thank you very much for your words Pilate. Yes, I am always inspired by Rollings' writing. It's nice to turn around words ideas and images with another soul. Glad you are getting something from it too!
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Thank you so much for taking the time to say all that you did, Pilate.
You have a gift of expression yourself (don't be afraid to join us if you want to)
It's all state of mind"
sling
.....that which used to resemble
sorrow resembles
.....joy when it
slams
ever ready to
please you
exposed caught up with
raw nerves and you're tumbling
tumbling full up and down backwards
the heavens sing
it's your first reaction
hard to survive
sometimes only.....
get by
Send my credentials to the house of detention
in the dark holes of the night
find something that sparkles
pluck it and get the fuck out
Send my credentials to the house of detention
rolling on in its tremors
and in its severity
to help fight his eyes
I took the fundamental trip to fly here
the dark night sung
sound evacuated tracks to sun
the pocket fit
first thing in the morning
collect thoughts
hope beg resolve and pray
Send my credentials to the house of detention
sat by the auburn pool
and heard the trees whisper again
it took me back to the place when I escaped to this
my oxygen
calm rustling England outside their stagnant little trap
I realise that deep within me, under the layers is an open man
with nothing but the riches of a Chinese monk
owning nothing, not thinking but
breathing in the landscape
Send my credentials to the house of detention
N - I - C - E
I heard a glimpse of tree when reading this
walking to the end of the pier in the dark
sand and pebbles somewhere below
and the smell, the sound of the sea
sensing the edge
before you've even taken the step
Send my credentials to the house of detention
still when it got here? I heard myself asking
asking no one held the key hole wide open that much
much not for me nor to my knowledge
knowledge for that very commotion is why back shutters are lifting
lifting like night is when I left for you
you are like knowledge I like so I live there
there's where I live its a start afterall
either that or I'll find a mental hole