Mid-afternoon sun was burning the red dirt landscape hard. In a bowl surrounded by baking scrubland and pitiful fields of maize and sorghum stood a home that was little more than a shack. An empty rocking chair sat among assorted … Continue reading
I’m listening to Sexy Sadie. Remembering ’68. My uncle and his friend Glen gone away to Canada. Young men. I see their glossy smiles on my wall. And I’m lost for a while among rows of plastic seats. Remembering school … Continue reading
The giant comes alive Crumbling ice, flaking falling to the ground Gantries, lifting, turn away Restraining arms roll back A dreadful pause then Gleaming, steaming power shatters the dawn Redundant hoses fall like sated lampreys Earth briefly lies subdued Stunned … Continue reading
Sonrisa Sunrise Sonrisa Sunrise First a frown Then the glow of a newborn day Lines of tiredness melting away Beautiful dawn Heavenly smile Oh, and your eyes Sonrisa Sunrise Beautiful dawn Heavenly smile And your eyes
I click “Like” Play another one by Bingham Southside of Heaven Out of the door – head in a cloud Past high-gated small-town prisons Range Rovers ease like blackshining slugs into the morning Boarding a train Looking around at sea-side … Continue reading
Context What a thing that is. Makes us what we are. Limits us – corrects us. Sets up all of our hang-ups. Makes us toe the line. It’s our image – what we are expected to be. Reinforced as necessary … Continue reading
We stood in the road holding hands It was Calle de Serrano I felt your skin move against mine Slightly rough and dry We stood in the road side by side Electromagnetically charged Absorbing the energy of the street Briefly … Continue reading
It occurred to me while contemplating these scribbles that most of them are attempts at capturing the moment when two or more souls recognise each other, and thereby recognise themselves, in the street. Other ones try to reflect the pain … Continue reading
I’m feeling every one of those trips around the sun.
They get you counting – I can’t help it.
It’s a big family – scattered now.
I don’t know the names of most of them anymore.
The old ones were my security – nan, aunties, uncles – nearly gone.
I can’t remember who was last.
Could have been.
I try to count the years since uncle Jack.
Three since my dad.
And every turn around the sun the trip is shorter.
Copyright Kevin Buckle 2014
I watch the lights of the city fall away again and, beneath their glow, todos mi amigos Madrileños. All I can think is “When will I return?” So many beautiful people: new introductions at la escuela de idiomas; burgeoning friendships at el clase … Continue reading