February Feathers

Eyes seeking forlorn sun as we fall apart
Forsaken February, would you strip for me?
Let your feathers tumble about your waist, your heart?
We could climb a ladder, solder the grey sky shut
Or write a letter whilst the light laps our lives
And scuffle, and smooch
From your nest, how does the feather fall?
Do you tap about the ties?
There is no doubt a wall about this month
And the red dog howls in the alley and the night presses in on the day
A wall about my mouth and the feather gone
Would you dance with me, February, beneath the forlorn sun?
Would you kick your heels and point your feet, destroy the rhythm; incandescent
The ladder tumbles through the gathering cloud
At last free, the light moves out beyond reason or reach;
There is a cage about this month it seems
And the night suffocates our dreams, the red dog roars loud in the street
There is a pall on this month
And the seams, the seams at any time may split
Would you hold me, February, or hold the ladder at least?
Inside we sit, wonder at the beginnings and ends of our time
The rise and rise of a tide; the feather hovers, floats
And the red dog wails in the alley, the night beats on the doors of the day
There is a muzzle about my throat whilst
The street screams contempt at the lovers, the living
There is a fever in this month, a perilous gladness
And it dances its jig before the lonely eyes of March
(Or the sadness of April, the destruction of May)
There is brutal honesty to these spectres, certainty always a guess
Throw a cloak about us, February, beneath your wings we undress

(the fox lies silent, the blind man may not see the grey skies;
the light is wild and violent, where it falls upon your eyes)

A brace for Monday

could it be. Wait, no. That IS Johnson. (image by clive symm)

One of my oldest friends on this green earth and former bandmate in the almighty Endorphin, Matt Adams, has released a new album under the name Julius Way. Entitled 'The Slow Death of Julius Way,' it is built with layer on layer of emotion. Dreamwalking folk at its finest. First-listen highlights for me include 'The Dawn' and 'Enemy' but the album is loaded with good tracks. This is independent music worth supporting. If you dig it, please post a link on your blog or site.

[15:07:52] Michael Crockett: I'd try cornwall first, and see how your arse is feeling.

My dad's response to my plan to cycle to Burma


I am become grampus
World weary
Heaped with storks
That nest upon me
Paralysed by ancient age
The sage who learned nothing
Gazing brokenly after a single day
A Single Day
A life ago, two, three?
When we drove on instinct; reckless, free
Planted an orange tree we bought from a street market
Now it bears fruit, sags heavy in the afterglow of spring
You used to sing, the boughs straining with vitality
And After, always after, once the laughter fades
The storks take wing, I dream the tree -
gnarled and old as you, as me

Go west

Rob and Richard are organising this, should be classic

For people that ordered a kook in the last ten days, thankyou very much and apologies for the delay in posting them out. Normal service will resume tomorrow.

That's 15 foot