He clockworked aimlessly a while, stopped, back bunched and glistening, ears plastered down on his knobbed skull, insidiously listening. {Seamus Heaney)
listening sixty per cent matthew home photos reading watching po art archives



Drink the sun and kiss the rain...

once upon a tiny time
a time of touch and tingle
feelings came in river rhyme
fairies lived in dingle.
long ago along a road
a day of dally-dilly
water tasted berry-good
singing shally-shilly
shally-shilly shally-shilly
sally will we dilly dally
shall we silly go ..

[Donovan - 1971]




"Man is a mistake, he must go. There is the grass, and hares and adders, and the unseen hosts, actual angels that go about freely when a dirty humanity doesn't interrupt them - and good pure tissued demons : very nice."

"If only man was swept off the face of the earth, creation would go on so marvellously, with a new start, non-human. Man is one of the mistakes of creation - like the ichthyonsauri. If only he were gone again, think what lovely things would come out of the liberated days; things straight out of the fire."

[Women in Love - DH Lawrence]



Mind and matter glide swift into the vortex of immensity.
Howls the sublime, and softly sleeps the calm ideal... in the whispering chambers of imagination...

...said the lady in the wig
[Martin Chuzzlewit - Charles Dickens]






'Now, reader, I have told my dream to thee, see if thou canst interpret it to me, or to thyself, or neighbour. But take heed of misinterpreting; for that, instead of doing good, will but thyself abuse; by misinterpreting, evil ensues. Take heed also that thou be not extreme in playing with the outside of my dream; nor let my figure or similitude, put thee into a laughter or a feud. Leave this for boys or fools; but, as for thee, do thou the substance of my matter see.

Put by the curtains, look within my veil; turn up my metaphors and do not fail: there, if thou seekest them, such things to find as will be helpful to an honest mind. What of my dross thou findest there, be bold to throw away; but yet preserve the gold. What if my gold be wrapped up in ore? None throws away the apple for the core. But, if thou shalt cast all away as vain, I know not but 'twill make me dream again.'


listening sixty per cent matthew home photos reading watching poems archives