Archive for April, 2008

Incognito?

Hidey Ho campers,

I have always wanted to put that at the beginning of a post, why? because I can!  I have the power.  Sort of.

So I have been very slack about updating this haven’t I?  I set out originally to have this domain as a ‘I am ill, this is what’s happening’ affair, with regular updates but as it seems to be that I am OK for the minute (touch wood, more like touch forest) I will have to think again about why this blog is here and what I am using it for.

I have two other blogs that I keep regularly, Veget8 is my vegetarian friendly restaurant reviewing thing which I have to say is getting more hits everyday! and Cheesegreen which is my plog as I call it as it deals with my poetry and is a blog.  So it’s not like I haven’t got anything to write.  In the meantime there is this blog that I am almost scared to write, maybe because I have to face up to things which I would otherwise ignore such as the ongoing situation with the rent and the Housing Association.  It is very much up to Laura about what she does with it, but I do worry.

Starting to wonder what exactly I am going to read out at the UNCUT Poets night week after next, so far it seems to be a poem about a Railway platform and one about eating Cat Food, but I know I’ll change my mind.  So far I seem to be heading in the right direction in finding enough material for the book which I will start putting together over my holiday next week.

As an excersise in Karma I am going to try and have a go at binding my own notebook.  I need a new one, to signify a new chapter in my life, so I have got paper and an old library book that I will use to cunningly disguise it.  I told Laura, she thought it was a ridiculous idea, another one of my hairbrained schemes? Nope, just an excersise in Karma, just like the jam I made.

OK I am now going to trudge over the Victoria House and finish doing whatever I was doing over there yesterday.

Peace.


I’m a Twit, how about you?

RSS Cheesegreen – My poetry ‘Plog’

  • Mensa 16/11/2009
    Chris
  • Owe 08/11/2009
    I’m going to Make you an offer. You’re going to like It. Life isn’t very good At this sort of thing. So I’ll sell you my Soul. Posted by Wordmobi
    Chris
  • Cyclone 04/11/2009
    I walk a cyclone on a nylon lead They can be cared for really easily, Remember they will always need to feed In wind and rain and other weather fronts, Engulfing all that stands up in it’s way Trains and cars, People and wildlife too. The upkeep can be quite prohibitive If you have nowhere else to really live, The cyclone never sleeps, [...]
    Chris
  • Rolling 31/10/2009
    Roll your tongue over the slow earth, the live earth told in slow dreams. Letter over letter, lets roll over.
    Chris
  • Pasta Sauce 31/10/2009
    Hooray for pasta sauce, Only the stuff in a jar of course, The other stuff is poncy and grim And yes it’ll help you keep all slim, It’s not the same as the stuff in a jar This wonderful Italian ambrosiarr. Made in Norwich and bottled in Gwent? It’s the taste I love, and it’s left me spent. [...]
    Chris
  • Poetry Addict 31/10/2009
    Hi, I’m Chris, Response: Hi Chris And I am a poetry addict. I have been clean now for three months, My head is full of facts and figures, No stanzas or trochees or sestinas. No rhymes. Just statistics. At my worst, I rhymed everything I spoke. Trying to get a point across was a joke, I couldn’t stop thinking like Dr Seuss, And soon my [...]
    Chris
  • Exmouth (after an argument) 31/10/2009
    Why would you want to be In that weird little place by the sea. Why would you make the trek to a place that has no self respect? Why would you want to be seen In a place where better days have been Why would you make a home, In a place where they steal garden gnomes, Why would you take your gran To [...]
    Chris
  • Wedding Ring 28/10/2009
    Took off my ring, Yet it is imprinted on my skin, Punched and branded like Cattle. You saw me do it But chose not to say anything, Although it has been a long time coming. My finger is the only part of me, that is fine.
    Chris
  • Services (Gordano) 28/10/2009
    We’ve stopped,  and our aching bodies function again, after three hours in hyperspace. Place your feet on martian aggregate. Bright white walls, candy coloured cuddly brand logos, shining in a radioactive post apocalyptic flicker. The foyer, home to sedated loney cheeseplants living next a faux-oasis in a stasis of activity. Baby changing facilities, s […]
    Chris
  • Effy 28/10/2009
    Effy smoked Like life was ending in an hour. But it would in ten years. She didn’t seem to care as nicotenel patches adorned her arm, flat limpets on a cragging saggy rock. One night, she spontaneously combusted, leaving a pair of charred feet. And a fag butt.
    Chris

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16/11/2009

Tori photographing bark

16/11/2009

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