Outside in October

Outside in October

The stems of the bamboos
in my neighbour’s garden
are tall and waxy cream.
Their leaves like the bad hair
of an animated villain.
They sway like an armoury
of thin spears;
rattle, sometimes, in the wind.
It’s a small innocent valley,
where the crabplant
and the blonde-haired pampas
jostle with potatoes;
buried like eggs of ants
in well-tilled mounds,
dissipating,
like mist, evaporating,
under the sun.
Betrayed, their fragility stalls,
and I expect to see
a black-and-white giant
panda
sleeping on the lawn.

From ‘Blodyn‘, my latest poetry collection

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Mid-October Blues

When the fallen leaves remind you that Summer’s gone
And the days are getting short and the nights are getting long

That’s the time to think about where you’re going to
That’s the time to think about what you want to do

The winter is coming, and with it a pause
There’ll be time to consider, to smooth out your flaws

You’ll be ready in no time, to get on with your life
For now, take it easy, enjoy the long nights

NOTES: This is off-the-cuff on a slightly drunken Saturday night, so will more than likely be deleted in the morning

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Helo

I can’t do anything better than anecdotal and observational so I might be wrong and I can’t be bothered to do any real research because if I’m right it would be a waste of time since no one would read this anyway.

I mean even if I don’t bother to do any research and this does get read I’m still quids in aren’t I?

I am aware that the chance that anyone who is actually another person and not some automatic bot-type thing that visits random websites in the hope of finding something of value – like a list of email addresses that they can sell to their fellow bots who send emails offering riches galore, is minscule.

So, the point is: no matter how obvious I make it, no matter how honest I am, it won’t matter because no one is going to read it anyway,

Why do I bother to continue writing then?

Because part of me wants to read what another part of me wants to write. Maybe it’s just one part behaving in two different ways? I don’t know, but here it is, my voice in the void.

Is anybody out there?

(Doesn’t really matter so don’t bother responding, even if you are one of the anybodies out there)

Nos Da

(p.s. This is not as self-indulgent as it seems)

 

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Some birds and their poems

A few short poems

about birds

from my last poetry collection

 

 

Blodyn

Robin
Pecking up the scraps of summer
He comes hopping –
and perching –
in cute poses;
Makes you wish you had a camera, ready.
Pictures of Robins
do well at Christmas.

Jackdaw
Where I live
There are families
of Black Birds
They live on our roofs
and ramble on our lawns
They never stop nodding
and they make you feel
cynical.

Turkey
These are birds too,
even though
they’re cajoled
and crammed
and clipped
and co-erced
until they bleed for us,
at Christmas.

Gull
A varied people
Albatross-sized
or sharp white darts
tipped with black.
They argue a lot,
eat anything you throw at them,
and try to tell us
about the weather.

Duck
They are mostly seen
on man-made ponds,
and amuse us,
occasionally,
with their courting.
You somehow
feel obliged to them
and wish you’d brought
some bread.

 

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Work in Progress – Extract from “Beats”

This is an extract from Beats, the second novel in the Bums, Beats, and Bones trilogy. Bums has already been published. Beats will follow in 2018.

But it’s not really about the music is it?” Old Steve knew he was pushing his luck but he’d had decades of Billy’s bullshit and now and again he challenged him just for the hell of it.

“Don’t be bloody daft, it’s all about the music – the music is all there is,” Billy huffed.

Old Steve shook his head. “Nah mate! Believe me, you may think that – but all those punters out there – they don’t – not really, not if you dig a bit. Not if you get inside their skulls.”

Billy sighed. “You know what Steve – we’ve known each other since we were kids, a long time – what is it now? Fifty years near enough, but you ain’t got a fucking clue.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know; it would be impossible for you to admit to something contrary to what your whole life is based on. It would turn your brain into mush if you did that – not that your brain isn’t already mush – you lost that in the seventies.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re doing my head in.”

“That’ll be the drugs too.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Without the music you wouldn’t have fuck all. Without The Redcurrents you’d be driving a bus. The music has given you, us, a good life.”

“You could say that about Val Doonican.” Old Steve chuckled at his own joke, it didn’t take much to wind Billy up, he was so insecure, but he’d better not start with all that crap about ‘electrifying’ the seventies with their radical socialist songs – that was pure luck, and Tommy’s lyrics of course.

“Please, I’m not in the mood,” Billy pleaded.

“OK, all right, I’ll shut up. Now, do you want another pint?”

“Ah, go on then, I’ll get them.”

Billy got up, went to the bar and waited for Andy to realise he was there and get off his fat arse to attend to him – he couldn’t be bothered to call out. He stared into nowhere, his mind meandering back through the decades. Of course, Steve was right – the actual music was just the wrapping – like the coloured cellophane around a cube of fancy chocolate. He knew as much as anyone that talented musicians were as common as yellow daffodils in March and good music was as ubiquitous as white seagulls on the inhabited coastline. It was pure luck, with a good dollop of ruthlessness that made a successful career. He knew because he’d been there, done that – got his fucking face on the T-Shirt. But you had to keep up the act – the moment you let it slip, it would be over, you might as well put a gun to your head.

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Extract from Work in Progress – ‘Deceit and Delusion’ Novel

This from the thoughts of Brian Llewelyn, formerly The Greatest Living Artist in Wales

Fucking tiny-minded people. If I hadn’t realised this and adjusted the way I engage with the bastards decades ago I would not be the success (that’s debatable I know) I am as an artist now.

The thing is most arbiters of culture are shallow and fake. They use what little knowledge they have to mask the gaping hole of nothingness that is their existence. I know better – I always have. Problem is I’ve allowed the bastards to subjugate me, to judge my work. Other problem is that most of the rest of the population need these hedgehog-brained existentialist angst dodgers to tell them what to think, what to buy, what to sacrifice their pathetic lives to.

Well fuck them – I’m back.

NOTES:

Deceit and Delusion is the follow up novel to Cheats and Liars

There are also several other novels in progress, most notably: Beats, the second in the trilogy of Bums, Beats and Bones and The Flying Boy, kind of meta fiction, told in the second-person present tense – sounds a bit affected but it’s not.

Better get on with it.

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Facebook and Twitter stole the Internet

Blog: From Web Log, From ‘Logging your thoughts and activities on the World Wide Web’

Once upon a time there was a thing called blogging. It still exists in name of course, for example this website is built on WordPress which is known as a blogging platform.

I first started blogging around the turn of the millennium when it wasn’t much more than a few nerdy types writing the odd banal paragraph about their lives and opinions. I didn’t do much at that time but I set up a website to use as an online journal. The website was built and edited using raw HTML.

Around eleven years ago I started a new blog using the Blogger platform. Then moved it to my own site using WordPress. The blog was anonymous at first under the pseudonym Skintwriter. It wasn’t long before I was just one in a worldwide community of bloggers. We each kept a blogroll, i.e. a list of links to other bloggers, who we hoped would reciprocate with a link back to us.

Anyway, because I used my own domain name there were no adverts on my site, nor on most of the others. We paid our dues to the purveyors of internet access and started building a community. No one else had control of the content of my site, no one could tell me what to post, no one made any money when others read what I wrote. Continue reading

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Gallery of some recent paintings

Most/All of these paintings are documented in other posts but here’s a little gallery as a quick reference:

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5 more acrylic paintings

Also featured in this Gallery of Recent Paintings

Mosaicness: Acrylic on Canvas. 24″ x 20″

F: Acrylic on Canvas – 80cm x 60cm

High H: Acrylic on Canvas, 24″ x 20″

M: Acrylic on canvas – 80cm x 60cm

Space SOS: Acrylic on canvas – 24″ x 20″

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4 More Oil Paintings

These are probably finished – also added to this gallery

Abstract Landscape #2 – Oil on Canvas 80cm x 60cm – Price: TBA

Bluebell Abstract Landscape #1 – – Oil on Canvas 80cm x 60cm – Price: TBA

The Estuary – Oil on Canvas 80cm x 60cm – Price: TBA

Wavy Abstract – – Oil on Canvas 80cm x 60cm – Price: TBA

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Finished Squashies – Now called Parallel Universes

(Also added to recent Gallery)

May already be sold.

Please contact me for up to date price and availability

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Special offer just 99p/99c books for Kindle

On offer for just £0.99 or $0.99. Click on the book covers for more

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How to create a work of art in 4 easy steps

Method

1: Go to charity shop, find old picture frames with hardboard backing

2: Remove the hardboard and paint it

3: Allow to dry

4: Reinsert painted hardboard into frame

Result

“Big Stripey” acrylic on hardboard- 66cm x 51cm (26″ x 20″)

“Small Stripey”: Acrylic on hardboard – 33cm x 25cm (13″ X 10″)

Both together

For Sale

(if still available) – including frames

Small Stripey – £TBA

Big Stripey – £TBA

Excluding post and packing

Use the contact form to start the ball rolling

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Here, Now, and Here and Now

Some Work in Progress – Early stages (Scroll Down for finished art-icles)

Acrylic on canvas – each 60cm x 50cm

Here

Continue reading

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FREE BOOKS

Kindle versions of some of my books are on a FREE promotion for a limited time

Click on the links below to access the books

BUMS
Dead Flowers
For the Time Being
Boys from the Backfields
Cheats and Liars
The Three Bears

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A couple of television scripts Work in Progress

A couple of probably failed TV scripts from some dark corner of my hard drive

Blood Brother

Winners and Losers- TV Script – 2017

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Croeso – Welcome

Herein you will find scribbles and daubs, words and images, poems, photos and paintings, stories and comment; some stuff will be finely cut like a diamond, while some other stuff will be like a shattering of smashed glass.

Both glass and diamonds are nothing without light, so I can promise there is a light in all the work here and every glimmer is precious.

Scroll and click for more, tarry awhile and turn over some stones. Continue reading

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More Human Beings . . .

Another two human beings have arrived to keep the first one company

Another Portrait of a Human Being – oils on canvas 50x60cm

And Another Portrait of a Human Being – oils on canvas 50x60cm

They are here to stay
Here
and there of course
Everything is here and there
Now and then
Was.Is.Will be.
Basically
They are flowers
in Spring.

(And here’s the first one to save a click or two)

Portrait of a Human Being – oils on canvas 50x60cm

They are lovely
They are
Lovely

Like me
Like you
You
Utter beauty
Beauty
Beauty

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Portrait of a human being

Here they are, I think they’re lovely

Portrait of a human being -May 1st, 2017. Oil on Canvas 50cm x 60cm

They are lovely
They are
Lovely

Like me
Like you
You
Utter beauty
Beauty
Beauty

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April Abstract – Oil on Canvas 80cm x 60cm

Tân Gwylllt Ebrill: 80x60cm – oil on canvas

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