a room with a view

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This may well be one of the first posts that I have ever posted anywhere that does not include a photograph. Which is strange because that is what I do, I photograph things incessantly and then post them. Oh, and when I talk, and write, I sometimes ramble a lot before getting to the point.

More recently, I decided that I would like to write more.

And to write better.

My first concerted effort to do so was taking part in Writing 201 Poetry. And now, here I am taking on what feels like a more intimidating challenge, Writing 101.

So this, my first contribution, is a response to Day Two, written and posted on Day Three and featuring “a room with a view”.

The room, the view, in question, was so special to me that I not only photographed it several times, I took out pencil and paper and sketched it.

The use of the room was the gift of a friend at a turning point in my life. So, for that reason alone the room acquired substance beyond the confines of its walls.

And what walls they were, a building of whitewashed stone. Approached by climbing a short flight of stone steps from a cobbled square in the centre of a small village on a rocky promontory overlooking the sea. The sea over which the sun set each night.

A simple room, two chairs by the window. Stone floor. Stone walls.

A window flung open to allow the sea breeze and the sounds of voices in the bar below to drift up and swirl softly around the small space.

A room in which, each day, I ate simply and well. Fresh crusty bread, ham, tomatoes, local grown olives and a glass or two of red wine.

A room with little in the way of furnishings. But what there was, functional, clean and comforting.

A room from which I first glimpsed a precious view.

Not the sea, not the sunset, not the villagers at the bar, not the coffee shop, not the model being photographed on the stone steps, not the tourists passing through.

The view from this room was far more precious.

This room, gave me a glimpse into my heart, my life.

A room with a view.

(for wordpress writing 101 – day two)

(the razor’s) edge

"entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem**"

20150215-0000200141-137-Edit-Edit-Edit
searching for an answer, what, where, which, when, how
why
                 look, question, yearn for the truth, the search continues
                                 choices and decisions, facts and figures to be weighed
                                         complexity and detail challenge and defy
logic
                                 when there in front of us
lies the simple truth
                  it’s really not that hard, not that complex
                                    when faced with a choice
                                                         the simplest solution is often the
best

(for justine’s eclectic corner #9 – photography, quotes and poetry – a free verse poem featuring the edge)

** occam’s razor is a problem solving technique, the latin text roughly translates to “no more things should be presumed to exist than are absolutely necessary”

poetry 101 rehab: home

“the ache for home lives in all of us the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned”   ― maya angelou,
“the ache for home lives in all of us
the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned”
― maya angelou
                ever hear about the one who was always alone?
                                                            how he tried as much as he could to atone
                how he woke in fright
                looked round for the light
                                                            and realised at last that being alone was being at home

(for mara’s poetry 101 rehab – home)

teatime (again)

                      tea for two

                           is that the way to woo

                                              or maybe it would be better

                                                                 to open a bottle

or

two?

(for justine’s tea time #8)

blur

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“we’ve got a file on you” – blur

                       press the button
                                       treated just like mutton
                                                               can you hear the cries
                                                              as they fall like flies
                       called to trial
                                                                    and the taste
                       of
                                                                                                                                                   bile

(for wordpress weekly photo challenge – blur)

blur on belgradestreets

blur on belgianstreets

poetry 101 rehab: end

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       once warm flesh, now cold, stone
                                  remembering, now she was alone
                   fingers on her skin, tracing, heart racing
                                  opening up, exposed, aching to sing
                                                                 frozen now, those moments lost
                                                    oh how, she had never
                                                          wanted it, ever, to
                                                                                                                 end

(for mara’s poetry101rehab – end)

ephemeral

"...passed unseen, in a sigh, in a flash – together with the youth, with the strength, with the romance of illusions”  ― joseph conrad
“…passed unseen, in a sigh, in a flash – together with the youth, with the strength, with the romance of illusions”
― joseph conrad

face

book

your

book

don’t look

now

it’s

gone

(for wordpress weekly photo challenge – ephemeral)

ephemeral on belgradestreets

ephemeral on andytownend

ephemeral on belgianstreets

(more) ephemeral on belgianstreets

better red

 

"better red than dead"  - betrayed russell and / or "west german friends of peace"
“better red than dead”
– bertrand russell and / or “west german friends of peace”

when red stalked the earth

righteous men preferred to dress in blue

time of great mirth?

(for justine’s eclectic corner #8)

poetry 101 rehab: thaw

AJT_3722

like an iceberg, broken away

i drift, dwindle, diminish

current taking me away

others float, others diminish

my path uncharted

where will i finish

will it ever end, or just diminish

fade away, or, as it started

end, in

collision

(for mara’s poetry 101 rehab)