under the green hill

a quote, a blog, a drama, a video

2012-01-05T21:11:00.001Z

some snippets that spring to mind from last year...

A Quote:

"Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away"

-- Mrs Craik.

This beautiful little gem was discovered whilst reading the brilliant book "Born Brilliant: the life of Kenneth Williams" by Christopher Stevens, where Ken would abbreviate the quote to "chaff & grain" amongst friends.

A Blog:

Lost and Found Photographs

My friend Rich shares these lovely old photographs and postcards he comes across. They inspire the imagination to explore the lives and stories of strangers from the past as if we knew them...

A Drama:

Over Christmas the BBC1 adaptation of Great Expectations was amazing.

A Video:

It's Time

a story of true love in just 2 minutes

Simon

we're like to meet no more

2011-11-10T22:41:00.001Z

A. E. Housman A Shropshire Lad XXII

"...The street sounds to the soldiers' tread,
And out we troop to see:
A single redcoat turns his head,
He turns and looks at me.

My man, from sky to sky's so far,
We never crossed before;
Such leagues apart the world's ends are,
We're like to meet no more.

What thoughts at heart have you and I
We cannot stop to tell;
But dead or living, drunk or dry,
Soldier, I wish you well..."

remembrance and the faithful thought

2011-11-10T22:34:00.001Z

A. E. Housman Last Poems XVIII

"...The rain, it streams on stone and hillock,
The boot clings to the clay.
Since all is done that's due and right
Let's home; and now, my lad, good-night,
For I must turn away.

Good-night, my lad, for nought's eternal;
No league of ours, for sure.
To-morrow I shall miss you less,
And ache of heart and heaviness
Are things that time should cure.

Over the hill the highway marches
And what's beyond is wide:
Oh soon enough will pine to nought
Remembrance and the faithful thought
That sits the grave beside.

The skies, they are not always raining
Nor grey the twelvemonth through;
And I shall meet good days and mirth,
And range the lovely lands of earth
With friends no worse than you.

But oh, my man, the house is fallen
That none can build again;
My man, how full of joy and woe
Your mother bore you years ago
To-night to lie in the rain..."

I work all day and get half drunk at night

2011-09-10T17:42:00.002+01:00

chaff & grain - thank you Mrs Craik

2011-08-20T19:56:00.003+01:00

"... Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away ..."

-- Mrs Craik

the aftermath of the UK elections and referendum, 5th May, 2011

2011-05-06T22:22:00.001+01:00

A year ago in the aftermath of the 2010 General Election which had resulted in a hung parliament, electoral reform was high on the political agenda (such electoral reform had been spoken about for much of the last century - just look at the Feb 1974 election). But today, thanks to Nick Clegg and the ConDems, the fickle public have kicked the prospect of meaningful electoral reform into the long grass for a generation. The vote today was a vote for David Cameron, the Tories and the political elite. They were the winners today, and ordinary people were the losers, now and for years to come. Retaining FPTP, and the ConDems' intention to gerrymander constituencies by reducing the number of MPs from 650 to 600, means that the Tories are much more likely to win an outright majority at the next general election. If that's in 2015, we are faced with the prospect of 10 years of David Cameron and the Tories. Despite Labour's gains (and Telford was a great result!), their poor performance in Scotland and the Tories' success in the English elections, at a time when they are wrecking the country with the biggest cuts since the 1930s, means it appears it increasingly difficult that Labour and Ed Miliband will be able to win the next election, unless there is radical change

I'm writing this to say, in a gentle way...

2011-02-14T13:54:00.014Z

Although I don't connect to 'Valentine's Day' in and for itself, I always take the opportunity at this time to imagine the thoughts, feelings and emotions surrounding deep personal love
(or the lack thereof)

this year's posts (below):

a bit of singing and dancing / making the lover well / deliberately I chose the dry-as-dust / I'm writing this to say, in a gentle way, thank you but no... / there is something I wanted to tell you... / my favourite work of art

are added to those from previous years and can all be found

here

;o)] XXX

my favourite work of art

2011-02-13T23:26:00.004Z

my funny valentine

"... your looks are laughable, un-photographable
yet you're my favourite work of art ..."

"... I see the world, it makes me puke,
but then I look at you
and know that somewhere
there's a someone, who can soothe me.
To me you are, a work of art,
and I would give you my heart
(that's if I had one) ..."

there is something I wanted to tell you...

2011-02-13T21:35:00.007Z

the comforting company of Stephen Fry, Jude Law,
Oscar Wilde and Stephen Patrick Morrissey

I'm writing this to say, in a gentle way, thank you but no...

2011-02-13T15:26:00.009Z

"...for whether you stay, or you stray
an in-built guilt
catches up with you.
And as it comes around to your place
at 5am, [it] wakes you up
but laughs in your face..."

(because even Morrissey needs a hug)

I walked around for hours, two ten-pence pieces in my hand

2011-02-12T20:52:00.006Z

"I wish I had your scarf still, that once embraced
and kept me warm...

...I wish you could be with me, in these last days,
when I am still, hopelessly poor"

deliberately I chose the dry-as-dust

2011-02-12T16:23:00.007Z

"...No one, not even Cambridge was to blame
(Blame if you like the human situation):
Heart-injured in North London, he became
The Latin Scholar of his generation.

Deliberately he chose the dry-as-dust,

Kept tears like dirty postcards in a drawer;
Food was his public love, his private lust
Something to do with violence and the poor.

In savage foot-notes on unjust editions
He timidly attacked the life he led,

And put the money of his feelings on

The uncritical relations of the dead,
Where only geographical divisions
Parted the coarse hanged soldier from the don..."

"A. E. Housman" by W. H. Auden

"...There are two worlds and you cannot belong to them both. If you belong to the second of these worlds [the world of the sensitive intellectual] you will be unhappy because you will always be in love with the first [the world of the athletic non-intellectual], while at the same time you will despise it. The first world on the other hand will not return your love because it is in its nature to love only itself. Socrates will always fall in love with Alcibiades; Alcibiades will only be a little flattered and rather puzzled..." - WHA on AEH in 1938

making the lover well

2011-02-12T15:44:00.005Z

"...When the lad for longing sighs,
Mute and dull of cheer and pale,
If at death's own door he lies,
Maiden, you can heal his ail.

Lovers' ills are all to buy:
The wan look, the hollow tone,
The hung head, the sunken eye,
You can have them for your own.

Buy them, buy them: eve and morn
Lovers' ills are all to sell.
Then you can lie down forlorn;
But the lover will be well..."

Poem VI from 'A Shropshire Lad'
by A. E. Housman

"Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo's laurel bough" - Christopher Marlowe

'Chatterton' by Henry Wallis

a bit of singing and dancing

2011-02-12T10:14:00.005Z

'A Bit Of Singing And Dancing' is a collection of short stories by Susan Hill. We read it at school. I still re-read two of the stories: 'Mr Proudham and Mr Sleight' and the one that gave the book it's title. 'A Bit Of Singing And Dancing' was dramatised in an hour-long television programme as part of the 'All For Love' series and can be watched in four parts:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

"... I always like a bit of singing and dancing, some variety.
It takes you out of yourself, singing and dancing..."

2010: a brief retrospective

2011-01-02T16:46:00.014Z

although inadequate, in the absence of any other summary, reasonable proxies for last year are the following:

Music

'Yndi Halda' were ever-present:

'A Song For Starlit Beaches' in 2 parts

I often listened to, and thought about, the song 'Damien (Lessons
From What's Poor)' by 'Sons of Noel and Adrian':

Book

'The Charioteer' by Mary Renault

Art

the pre-raphaelite work of Edward Burne-Jones, particularly:

'The Merciful Knight'
(click to enlarge)
and

'Love Among The Ruins'
(click to enlarge)

Personal Life

homespun philosophy:

(I'm not really; but you've got to be, don't you?)

Politics

a complete disaster, with Conservatives and Liberal Democrats now finishing-off the country as they finish off the work started by Margaret Thatcher over 30 years ago

Marginalia

the delights of @DrSamuelJohnson on Twitter never cease to lighten and amuse

A Blessing for Christmas

2010-12-24T15:09:00.003Z

"May your soul calm, console and renew you. May the light of your soul guide you. May the light of your soul bless the work you do with the secret love and warmth of your heart. May the day never burden you. May dawn find you awake, alert, approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities and promises. May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected"

Peace & Light from Si ;o)] xxx

Gotta Serve Somebody

2010-11-08T19:33:00.002Z

by Bob Dylan
covered here by Shirley Caesar
pictures by Marc Chagall

they carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man

2010-10-19T22:27:00.012+01:00

George Butterworth was a promising English composer. His work included setting many of A. E. Housman's poems to song, such as this beautiful one here from 'A Shropshire Lad':

"...The lads in their hundreds to Ludlow come in for the fair,
There’s men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old.

There’s chaps from the town and the field and the till and the cart,
And many to count are the stalwart, and many the brave,
And many the handsome of face and the handsome of heart,
And few that will carry their looks or their truth to the grave.

I wish one could know them, I wish there were tokens to tell
The fortunate fellows that now you can never discern;
And then one could talk with them friendly and wish them farewell
And watch them depart on the way that they will not return.

But now you may stare as you like and there’s nothing to scan;
And brushing your elbow unguessed-at and not to be told
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,
The lads that will die in their glory and never be old..."

Poem XXIII from 'A Shropshire Lad' by A. E. Housman

George was an avid collector of folk-songs. He knew Cecil Sharp and Ralph Vaughan-Williams and was very interested in folk-dancing, especially morris dancing. The second video shows a rare early recording of english dance from 1912, the earliest known examples of English folk dance on film, recorded on a 'Kinora' machine. Amazingly, the recordings include George Butterworth, in the year he wrote his song cycles.

From 1'00' we see him dancing extracts from 'Molly Oxford (Field Town Jig)' , and from 3'25' as part of a group dancing 'Hey Boys Up We Go' [I know it looks quite amusing, but the dances are AMAZING! ;o)]

The most poignant dance for me is from 4'30' where we see him dancing a beautiful solo jig in the 'cotswold' morris style. Within 2 years, at the outbreak of World War I, George Butterworth signed up with the British Army and on 5th August 1916 he was killed during the Battle of the Somme. He was 31 years old.

George Butterworth
(1885-1916)

he carried back bright to the coiner
the mintage of man

when someone shows you who they are, believe them

2010-09-09T19:23:00.004+01:00

'The Boy With The Thorn In His Side'
by The Smiths
covered by Scott Matthews

When someone shows you who they are, believe them'
- Maya Angelou

the low anthem

2010-09-02T22:47:00.002+01:00

"...Set the sails I feel the winds a'stirring
Toward the bright horizon set the way
Cast your wreckless dreams upon our Mayflower
Haven from the world and her decay

And who could heed the words of Charlie Darwin
Fighting for a system built to fail
Spooning water from their broken vessels
As far as I can see there is no land

Oh my god, the water's all around us
Oh my god, it's all around

And who could heed the words of Charlie Darwin
The lords of war just profit from decay
And trade their children's promise for the jingle
The way we trade our hard earned time for pay

Oh my god, the water's cold and shapeless
Oh my god, it's all around
Oh my god, life is cold and formless
Oh my god, it's all around..."

'Charlie Darwin' from
"Oh My God, Charlie Darwin"
by The Low Anthem

apples

2010-07-05T20:46:00.003+01:00

"... Behold the apples' rounded worlds:
juice-green of July rain,
the black polestar of flowers, the rind
mapped with its crimson stain.

The russet, crab and cottage red
burn to the sun's hot brass,
then drop like sweat from every branch
and bubble in the grass.

They lie as wanton as they fall,
and where they fall and break,
the stallion clamps his crunching jaws,
the starling stabs his beak.

In each plump gourd the cidery bite
of boy's teeth tears the skin;
the waltzing wasp consumes his share,
the bent worm enters in.

I, with as easy hunger, take
entire my season's dole;
welcome the ripe, the sweet, the sour,
the hollow and the whole ..."

'Apples' by Laurie Lee

dear friends

2010-07-05T18:39:00.004+01:00

Dear Friends,

It can take a long time, but the fog can finally clear. It took until midsummer's day for my two little strawberry plants to begin to bear fruit. Likewise, it seems to have taken me well into the season of summer sunshine to feel the light and warmth on my face, and to begin to turn to greet the day with optimism and hope. Words from the poem 'I Am' by John Clare fill my head, but for precisely the opposite feelings in fact, that the poem evokes. I feel I have been somehow distant of late, and I am sorry. It's almost as if friendships, like my strawberries, can only be, and are only ever meant to be, few and far between - that the joy that they bring would be diluted if I filled all my days with such happiness. As if friendship for me is an undeserved indulgence. What have I been doing in the meantime; during my time of distance? Nothing. Rather than share and walk and drink the air, I have preferred to hide inside. I uncritically swallowed hook-line-and-sinker the irrational notion that: the time I have is far too short to do anything; the pressures of work are too much and have squeezed out any other possibilities in my 'free time'; I can't change my routine; making an effort to do almost any task will leave me exhausted; and my aim for each day is just to get through to the stage where I am able to lie abed and rest, although I have rarely reached that goal. I haven't felt like talking in the evenings, leaving the telephone to ring-off, unanswered. But it doesn't have to be this way. In these months I realise I have come to love my friends even more, because, even though it has been unsaid (if I could tell you I would let you know), my friends are still persevering with me. And so, I thank you all for your unaware gentle patience. This I cherish. Friendship, like joy, is a gift from God, and I am over-joyed that, like fire, friendship and joy when shared aren't diluted and diminished in those who are sharing. I pray I can bring you fruit too. Take good care friends. Yours, as ever, in Friendship, Peace & Light, with much love from Simon ;o)] XXX

The Merciful Knight / To Be Alone With You

2010-05-28T20:27:00.007+01:00

(click several times to enlarge
this amazing painting)

The moving work 'The Merciful Knight' by pre-raphaelite artist Sir Edward Burne-Jones (1863) depicts the 11th Century legend of John Gualbert where the figure of Jesus bows down from the cross.

'To Be Alone With You'
by Sufjan Stevens

de milde lomb isprad o rode

2010-04-01T23:55:00.007+01:00

For Good Friday, here is the 13th Century Medieval Hymn
'De Milde Lomb Isprad O Rode'
(The Gentle Lamb, Spread On The Cross)
sung in old English by the group 'Anonymous 4'

hear how recognisable words from our modern English echo down from earlier generations and give us a glimpse of their source, like Light shining through woodland cover

old man look at my life

2010-02-22T18:26:00.004Z

"... Old man look at my life
I'm a lot like you were
Old man look at my life
I'm a lot like you were

Old man look at my life
Twenty four
and there's so much more
Live alone in a paradise
That makes me think of two

Love lost, such a cost
Give me things
that don't get lost
Like a coin that won't get tossed
Rolling home to you

Old man take a look at my life
I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that's true

Lullabies, look in your eyes
Run around the same old town
Doesn't mean that much to me
To mean that much to you

I've been first and last
Look at how the time goes past
But I'm all alone at last
Rolling home to you

Old man take a look at my life
I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that's true

Old man look at my life
I'm a lot like you were
Old man look at my life
I'm a lot like you were ..."

'Old Man' from 'Harvest'
by Neil Young

for valentine's

2010-02-14T09:53:00.010Z

I've collated below all my valentine's posts

for this year: 'the invention of love' / 'if I could tell you I would let you know / 'we walked out through the dew dappled brambles' / 'you are dearer to me than myself as you yourself can see' / 'moonlight becomes you'

from previous years: 'this one's for all the lovers' / 'leaved petals' / 'will nature make a man of me yet?' / 'always summer' / 'awesome love' / 'valentine' [which is worth scrolling down for as there are biscuits and richard hawley! ;o)]

Wishing you all a happy Valentine's Day,
may it be filled with Love and Peace and Light
Si ;o)] X X X

the invention of love

2010-02-14T08:52:00.012Z

The only surviving fragment of "The Love of Achilles" by Sophocles is often quoted as: "Love is like the ice held in the hand by children".

'The Invention of Love' by Tom Stoppard is probably my favourite play, even though I've never seen a production of it. There is a student production at the Oxford Playhouse running from this Wednesday to Saturday (see here), but I won't be able to take time off work, it would feel a bit strange going on my own, and perhaps it would be better for me to just stick to reading the text anyway and let my imagination wander/wonder, as it often does ...

I suppose what I find so moving is the way the play deals with the combination of the university setting, the poetry, the scholarship, the biography of A. E. Housman, the Shropshire connection, the silence, the struggleof translating thoughts and feelings into words and actions, and how sometimes unexpressed love can't remain so, and has to find a small voice, even if it is then to become unreciprocated and unrequited.

"...Life is in the minding..."

And I mind, terribly.

Perhaps I mind too much.

"...I would have died for you, but I never had the luck..."

"- but why, Ligurinus, alas why this unaccustomed tear trickling down my cheek? - why does my glib tongue stumble to silence as I speak? At night I hold you fast in my dreams, I run after you across the Field of Mars, I follow you into the tumbling waters, and you show no pity." (end of Act One, from Odes IV. i by Horace)

"...but before Plato could describe love, the loved one had to be invented. We would never love anybody if we could see past our invention ... In the mirror of invention, love discovered itself. Then we saw what we had made - the piece of ice in the fist you cannot hold or let go..." (towards the end of Act Two)

May we each discover true Love in the mirror of our invention(s).
Happy Valentine's Day.
Yours in Friendship, Peace and Light,
with much love from Simon ;o)] X X X

if I could tell you I would let you know

2010-02-14T07:57:00.003Z

"...Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose all the lions get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know..."

"If I Could Tell You" by W. H. Auden

we walked out through the dew dappled brambles

2010-02-13T20:04:00.007Z

"Let Me See The Colts" by Smog (Bill Callahan) is a love song like no other. And his live performances (although I've never seen him in concert) see this love song be tended and nurtured. In the free space created in the places of the song, new lyrics have emerged, come to the surface and speak to an even deeper truth ...

"... Knocked on your door at dawn
With a spark in my heart
Dragged you from your bed
And said:

Let me see the colts
That will run, that will run next year
Show them to a gambling man
Show them to a gambling man
Thinking of the future

Have you been drinking?
Well no, nor sleeping
The all-knowing, all-seeing eye is dog tired
And just wants to see the colts

Ah, let me see the colts

Let me see the ...
That will run, that will run next year
Show them to a gambling man
Show them to a gambling man
A gamblng man, a gambling man, a gambling man ...
Thinking of the future

We walked out through
The dew dappled brambles
And sat upon the fence
Is there anything as still as sleeping horses?
Is there anything as still as sleeping horses?

Let me see the colts, let me see the colts
That will run, that will run next year
Show them to a gambling man
Please show them to a gambling man
Thinking of the future

Let me see the colts, let me see the colts
That will run, that will run next year
Show them to a gambling man, oh
Please now baby show them to a gambling man

I have walked through the light
I have walked in the light
And I know I am right

And I have hid my heart
I have hid my heart
I have hid my heart
Every night

And I have stood tall
I have stood tall

And I have loved
I have loved it all
I have loved it all

And I have found a new
A new love
A new love

Let me see the colts
Let me see the colts
That will run, that will run next year
Show them to a gambling man
Show them to a gambling man
Thinking of the future ..."

"Let Me See The Colts"
from 'A River Ain't Too Much To Love'
by Smog (Bill Callahan)

you are dearer to me than myself, as you yourself can see

2010-02-13T13:34:00.001Z

The last time I cried at a music concert was 17th April 2007 when Bob Dylan played 'Workingman's Blues #2' at the Birmingham NIA. The song is dearer to me than myself, and when I heard Bob play it live again on 29th April 2009, it brought back similar memories and emotions. And I noticed that in the intervening 2 years Bob had altered some of the lyrics too (see how below). Songs, like our lives, aren't static, and the song-smith-poet Bobby does not merely reproduce a feeling of the past, but allows his songs to grow and fly. This is what love is all about.

"...There's an evening haze settling over town
Starlight by the edge of the creek
The buying power of the proletariat's gone down
Money's getting shallow and weak
Well the place I love best is a sweet memory
It's a new path that we trod
They say low wages are a reality
If we want to compete abroad

My cruel weapons you can put them on the shelf
Come and sit down on my knee
You are dearer to me than myself
As you yourself can see

While I'm listening to the steel rails hum
Got both eyes tight shut
I'm just trying to keep the hunger from
Creeping it's way into my gut

Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the frontline
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues

Well I'm sailing on back, getting ready for the long haul
Tossed by the winds and the seas
I'll drag them all down to hell and I'll press their heads to the wall
I'll sell them to their enemies
Now I'm trying to feed, feed my soul with thought
I'm gonna sleep off the rest of the day
Sometimes nobody wants what we got:
Sometimes you can't give it away

The place is ringed with countless foes
[Some of them may be deaf and dumb]
You can hear their skipping to the drum
No man, no woman knows
The hour that sorrow will come

In the dark I hear a song bird's call
[I can feel a lover's breath]
The hills are rugged and steep
I'll sleep in the kitchen with my feet in the hall
[Sleep is like a temporary death]
If I told you my whole story you'd weep

Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the frontline
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues

Well they burned my barn, they stole my horse
I can't save a dime
I got to be careful, I don't want to be forced
Into a life of continual crime
I can see for myself that the sun is sinking
How I wish you were here to see
Tell me now, am I wrong in thinking
That you have forgotten me?

Now they worry and they hurry, they fuss and they fret
They waste your nights and days
Them I will forget
But you I'll remember always
[Old memories of you to me have clung
You've wounded me with your words
Gonna have to straighten out your tongue
It's all true, everything you've heard]
Now it's a cold dark night, and it's midsummers eve
It's raining so hard you could drown
I'm still finding it so hard to believe
Someone would kick me when I'm down

Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the frontline
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues

Well in you my friend, I find no blame
Wanna look in my eyes, please do
No one can ever claim
I took up arms against you
All across the peaceful sacred fields
They will lay you low
They'll break your horns and slash you with steel
I say it so it must be so

Now I'm down on my luck and I'm black and blue
I'm gonna give you another chance
I'm all alone, I'm expecting you
To lead me off in a cheerful dance
I got a brand new suit and a brand new wife
I can live on rice and beans
Some people never worked a day in their life
Don't know what work even means

Meet me at the bottom, don't lag behind
Bring me my boots and shoes
You can hang back or fight your best on the frontline
Sing a little bit of these workingman's blues..."

"Workingman's Blues #2"
from 'Modern Times'
by Bob Dylan

moonlight becomes you

2010-02-13T11:18:00.004Z

Moonlight Becomes You, Chet Baker

Moonlight, A Study At Millbank by J. M. W. Turner

Moonlight Becomes You, Bing Crosby

but now you're a passenger to your own heart

2010-01-12T22:10:00.004Z

'Fuel Up' by Oxford group Stornoway

"... Curled up in the back of the car
9 years old you don't know where you are
And your head's on the window, your eyes are just closed
There's a voice in the front and a hush on the road
You're a passenger but your mind is travelling on

Open your eyes and you're 9 years older
Hands on the wheel and you're racing on over
To lie with your first love, you can't wait to see her
You borrowed the car and you think you're the driver
But now you're a passenger to your own heart and it takes you travelling, travelling on

When the morning broke and the sky fell down
It went black as night and the wind blew round
And stole your directions, you lost your way home
And you felt like a passenger left by the road
But I'll tell you the reason you couldn't get home

Cause there's nowhere you've been and it's nowhere you're going
Home is only a feeling you get in your mind
From the people you love and you travel beside
You may feel like a passenger [but] now you're the driver
You've got to go travelling, travelling on
Because if you break down, it's a cold, hard shoulder

So fuel up your mind and fire up your heart
and drive on, drive on, drive on
And when your days are darker, put your foot down harder
Drive on, drive on.

And it's 9 more years you've been driving now
But tonight you're stumbling through your old town
You met up with a schoolfriend who's still just the same
And you talked all the same shit you talked in those days
And now you're drunk and you're sad for the old times passing you by

For there's no rewind so you might as well play while your time is rolling away
And get back on the road, it's a beautiful day
Pick up all the friends you can find on your way
And if you lose direction they'll be there guiding you on
Guiding you, guiding you on.
Cause we're all going the same way down this long road
[So fuel up]
Yes, we're all bound the same way down this long, long road

So fuel up your mind and fire up your heart
And drive on; drive on, drive on
And when your days are darker, put your foot down harder
Drive on
Fuel up, and drive on
Fuel up, and drive on
Drive on ..."

I found the lyrics from brrm
;o)]

my 2 highlights from christmas tv #3

2009-12-30T17:53:00.002Z

I forgot the third highlight! [how could I?! ;oD]

Ali & Brian win the Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special!

They are sooo meant to be together!

;o)] X X X

my 2 highlights from christmas tv #2

2009-12-29T17:44:00.002Z

'conscience does make cowards of us all'

David Tennant plays Hamlet:

"... To be, or not to be - that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep -
No more - and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep -
To sleep - perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time ...
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia ..."

my 2 highlights of christmas tv 2009 #1

2009-12-28T23:20:00.007Z

from "gavin & stacey":

pure genius!

here's the source of the inspiration:

"There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" by The Smiths

peace and light this christmas

2009-12-24T12:31:00.001Z

peace and light this christmas
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

the sun setting over the shropshire hills on the shortest day of the year - taken on my mobile phone from the window by my desk at work - you can see the office lights reflecting in the window. wishing you all a christmas filled with peace and light. let's look to the future and all the hope that it presents. take care from si ;o)] xxx

two winter songs

2009-12-22T19:43:00.002Z

'white winter hymnal' by fleet foxes:

and

'winter winds' by mumford & sons

there's no need to be so knowing

2009-12-05T00:14:00.002Z

spring-heeled jim

"... spring-heeled jim winks an eye:
he'll "do", he'll never be "done to";
he takes on whoever flew through:
"well it's the normal thing to do"
(ah, yes; ah, yes)

spring-heeled jim lives to love:
now kissing with his mouth full;
and his eyes on some other fool:
so many women,
his head should be spinning
(ah, but no; ah, no)

spring-heeled jim slurs the words:
"there's no need to be so knowing;
take life at five times your
average speed (I never do)"
until jim feels the chill:
"oh, where did all the time go?"
once always in for the kill
now it's too cold
and he feels too
(old, too old; ah, old)

la la la la-la-la ..."

bob dylan must be santa

2009-12-03T20:20:00.003Z

brighter sides to life

2009-11-09T20:00:00.005Z

and if you must go to work tomorrow
(well, if I were you I wouldn't bother:
for there are brighter sides to life,
and I should know, because I've seen them;
but not very often)

"... I decree today that life
Is simply taking and not giving
England is mine - it owes me a living
But ask me why, and I'll spit in your eye
Oh, ask me why, and I'll spit in your eye
But we cannot cling to the old dreams anymore
No, we cannot cling to those dreams

Does the body rule the mind,
Or does the mind rule the body?
I don´t know ...

Under the iron bridge we kissed
And although I ended up with sore lips
It just wasn't like the old days anymore
No, it wasn't like those days
Am I still ill? Oh ...
Am I still ill? Oh ...

Does the body rule the mind,
Or does the mind rule the body?
I don´t know...

Ask me why, and I'll die
Oh, ask me why, and I'll die

And if you must go to work tomorrow
(Well, if I were you I wouldn't bother:
For there are brighter sides to life,
And I should know, because I've seen them;
But not very often ...

Under the iron bridge we kissed
And although I ended up with sore lips
It just wasn't like the old days anymore
No, it wasn't like those days

Am I still ill? Oh ...
Oh, am I still ill? Oh ..."

"Still Ill" by The Smiths

a matter of time

2009-11-02T23:05:00.004Z

"... Sitting on a beach declaring my intentions
Trying to find a way to focus your affection
In a matter of time I know I'll find it
In a matter of time I know I'll find it

Here's another name to add to your collection
He lacks in desire what I lack in direction
In a matter of time I know I'll find it
In a matter of time I know I'll find it

'Cos there ain't no easy way out
Of the whirlpool ride
No there ain't no way to get out
Once you've put your heart in

Picking up the pieces, putting them together
Trying to find a reason for my strange behaviour
In a matter of time I know I'll find it
In a matter of time I know I'll find it

The fever comes and never dies
It burns my brain and blurs my eyes
Alhough I wasn't born to fight
I know I'll find it in me
I ride the train back home again
This lonely journey never ends
But if I need the strength to sing
I know I'll find it in me

Never mind, cause I never done right
And the face I like
Doesn't shine anymore, anymore

Any more ..."

by 'The Leisure Society'

always summer

2009-10-28T23:00:00.004Z

how I wish it was always summer:

Fantasy Impromptu in C sharp minor,
Op. 66 "Always Summer"
Andrew Johnston, BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
from the soundtrack to
"Brideshead Revisited"

the summer that has gone
and the heat that has died down
tasted of elderflowers

now my heart is full

2009-10-26T21:10:00.005Z

for morrissey:
'now my heart is full'
by morrissey

"... There's gonna be some trouble
A whole house will need re-building
And everyone I love in the house
Will recline on an Analyst's couch quite soon
Your father cracks a joke
And in the usual way
Empties the room

Tell all of my friends
(I dont have too many:
Just some rain-coated lover's puny brother)
Dallow, Spicer, Pinkie, Cubitt
Rush to danger
Wind up nowhere
Patric Doonan - raised to wait
I'm tired again, I've tried again, and

Now my heart is full
Now my heart is full
And I just can't explain
So I won't even try to

Dallow, Spicer, Pinkie, Cubitt
Every jammy Stressford poet
Loafing oafs in all-night chemists
Loafing oafs in all-night chemists
Underact - express depression
Ah, but bunny I loved you
I was tired again
I've tried again, and

Now my heart is full
Now my heart is full
And I just can't explain
So I won't even try to

Could you pass by ?

Now my heart is full
Now my heart is full
And I just cant explain
So ... slow ... "

that joke isn't funny anymore

2009-10-23T21:14:00.004+01:00

Moz knows that the joke isn't funny anymore

and he says five important things:

1. you should know: time's tide will smother you
2. well I'm afraid it doesn't make me smile
3. it's too close to home and it's too near the bone (more than you'll ever know)
4. well it suddenly struck me that I just might die with a smile on my face after all
5. I've seen this happen in other people's lives, and now it's happening in mine

I remember how they took you down, as the winter turned the meadow brown

2009-10-14T21:59:00.004+01:00

'Mykonos' by Fleet Foxes:

"... The door slammed loud and rose up a cloud of dust on us
Footsteps follow down through the hollow sound torn up

And you will go to Mykonos
With a vision of a gentle coast
And a sun to maybe dissipate
Shadows of the mess you made

How did animals in the snow tipped pines, I find
Hatching from the seed of your thin mind, all night?

And you will go to Mykonos
With a vision of a gentle coast
And a sun to maybe dissipate
Shadows of the mess you made ...

... Brother you don't need to turn me away
I was waiting down at the ancient gate

You go
Wherever you go today
You go today

I remember how they took you down
As the winter turned the meadow brown

You go
Wherever you go today
You go today

When I'm walking brother don't you forget
It ain't often that you'll ever find a friend

You go
Wherever you go today
You go today ..."

a serenade of fallen autumn leaves

2009-10-14T21:21:00.003+01:00

'Autumn Leaves' - Nat King Cole

firey tree
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

'Fallen Leaves' - Norma Waterson

'Autumn Serenade' - John Coltrane & Johnny Hartman

[with thanks to Laurie! ;o)]

summer was gone and the heat died down ...

2009-10-07T21:52:00.004+01:00

"... Summer was gone and the heat died down
And Autumn reached for her golden crown
I looked behind as I heard a sigh
But this was the time of no reply.

The sun went down and the crowd went home
I was left by the roadside all alone
I turned to speak as they went by
But this was the time of no reply.

The time of no reply is calling me to stay
There's no hello and no goodbye
To leave there is no way.

The trees on the hill have nothing to say
They would keep their dreams till another day
So they stood and thought and wondered why
For this was the time of no reply.

Time goes by from year to year
And no one asks why I am standing here
But I have my answer as I look to the sky
This is the time of no reply.

The time of no reply is calling me to stay
There's no hello and no goodbye
To leave there is no way.

Summer was gone and the heat died down
And Autumn reached for her golden crown
I looked behind as I heard a sigh
But this was the time of no reply ..."

'Time Of No Reply'

by

Nick Drake

without giving anything away ...

2009-10-02T20:32:00.002+01:00

haven
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

"... Without giving anything away
I can say it's by the sea
It's a house that used to be
The home of a friend of mine

Without giving anything away
You'll find ships inside of bottles
When the garden's overgrown
The house is white, but the paint is coming off ...

... I didn't know if you wanted to
When I came to pick you up
You didn't even hesitate
And now you and me are on our way
I think I've bought everything we need
Don't look back, don't think of the
Other places you should've been
It's a good thing that you came along with me

Gold in the air of summer
You'll shine like gold in the air of summer
You'll shine like gold in the air of summer
You'll shine like gold in the air of summer ..."

"Gold In The Air Of Summer"
by
Kings of Convenience

cheerio chaps, cheerio goodbye...

2009-07-24T22:19:00.009+01:00

Friends, I'm going to be offline for a while, so in the meantime I leave you with the fabulous falsetto of Hayden, and others from 'Wild Beasts' singing during a 'Bandstand Busking' session:

"... Sour metal smells in a lonely barrel,
don't render me the sorriest parody, ooooooo

Potty gobbed fickle mob, clamour for climax,
don't render me the sorriest parody, ooooooo

Be blasted, or be lambasted instead,
don't render me the sorriest parody, ooooooo ooooo

Cheerio chaps, cheerio goodbye
Cheerio chaps, even cheer me if I die

For me snivellin', for me sufferin', for me constant cowerin'
I get this:
My pain played back, like crude happy slap, and for the laff
I get this:
Another cosmos, beneath the big top, when I belly flop
I get this, I get this, I get this, I get this, I get this:

no, not hugged, or hand shook
just left bereft, well walloped, wanting to have
warwhoopfully have wept

So I gloat, with gritted grin
To cheat my chin into keeping the
womanly wibblin' in, like

Cheerio chaps, cheerio goodbye
Cheerio chaps, even cheer me if I die

For me snivellin', for me sufferin', for me constant cowerin'
I get this:
My pain played back, like crude happy slap, and for the laff
I get this:
Another cosmos, beneath the big top, when I belly flop
I get this, I get this, I get this, I get this:
woawoo woawoo woawoo

a requiem in a circus tent ..."

So, cheerio chaps, cheerio goodbye...!
Peace & Light
Si ;o)] xxx

a crock of gold

2009-07-23T19:09:00.004+01:00

"... It was about eleven when Sebastian, without warning, turned the car into a cart track and stopped. It was hot enough now to make us seek the shade. On a sheep-cropped knoll under a clump of elms we ate the strawberries and drank the wine - as Sebastian promised, they were delicious together - and we lit fat, Turkish cigarettes and lay on our backs, Sebastian's eyes on the`leaves above him, mine on his profile, while the blue-grey smoke rose, untroubled by any wind, to the blue-green shadows of foliage, and the sweet scent of the tobacco merged with the sweet summer scents around us and ...

... the fumes of the sweet, golden wine seemed to lift us a finger's breadth above the turf and hold us suspended ...

... 'Just the place to bury a crock of gold,' said Sebastian. 'I should like to bury something precious in every place where I've been happy and then, when I was old and ugly and miserable, I could come back and dig it up, and remember.' ..."

from 'Brideshead Revisited' by Evelyn Waugh

I should like to bury a crock of gold

;o)] like you mean it

2009-07-16T23:18:00.001+01:00

please,

;o)]

like you mean it ...

what was it all for - for the weather or the Battle of Agincourt?

2009-07-15T23:01:00.009+01:00

Today, the 15th July, is St Swithin's Day.
So it is no better time than to share the song "St Swithin's Day"
by Billy Bragg.

"...with my own hands/ when I make love to your memory/ it's not the same/ I miss the thunder/ I miss the rain..." is perhaps the most poetic description of the onanistic act.

"St. Swithin's Day" by Billy Bragg
covered here by the group 'Dubstar'

"...Thinking back now,
I suppose you were just stating your views
What was it all for -
For the weather or the Battle of Agincourt?
And the times that we all hoped would last
Like a train they have gone by so fast
And though we stood together
By the edge of the platform
We were not moved by them

With my own hands
When I make love to your memory
It's not the same
I miss the thunder
I miss the rain
And the fact that you don't understand
Casts a shadow over this land
But the sun still shines from behind it

Thanks all the same
But I can't bring myself to answer your letters
It's not your fault
But your honesty touches me like a fire
The polaroids that keep us together
Will surely fade away
Like the love that we spoke of forever
On St Swithin's Day ..."

chains, chains, chains

2009-06-30T21:14:00.002+01:00

chains, chains, chains

by elvis perkins in dearland

"... oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,

time held me green and dying

though I sang in my chains like the sea ..."

from 'fern hill' by dylan thomas

ho, every one that thirsteth...

2009-06-20T19:48:00.004+01:00

"... Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price ..."

Isaiah 55: 1 (King James Version)

shropshire from linley
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

"... Ho, everyone that thirsteth
And hath the price to give,
Come to the stolen waters,
Drink and your soul shall live.

Come to the stolen waters,
And leap the guarded pale,
And pull the flower in season
Before desire shall fail.

It shall not last for ever,
No more than earth and skies;
But he that drinks in season
Shall live before he dies.

June suns, you cannot store them
To warm the winter's cold,
The lad that hopes for heaven
Shall fill his mouth with mould ..."

Poem XXII from 'More Poems'
by A. E. Housman

a dreaded sunny day

2009-05-29T19:45:00.009+01:00

a dreaded sunny day, so I say:
"meet me at the cemetry gates! ;o)] xxx"

'Cemetry Gates' by The Smiths
[which has the bestest bass-line ever! ;o)]
with thanks to tom & jack for such a great video!

"...A dreaded sunny day
So I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
While Wilde is on mine

So we go inside and we gravely read the stones
All those people, all those lives
Where are they now?
With loves, and hates
And passions just like mine
They were born
And then they lived
And then they died
Seems so unfair
I want to cry

You say: "'Ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn"
And you claim these words as your own
But I've read well, and I've heard them said
A hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must write prose and poems
The words you use should be your own
Don't plagiarise or take "on loan"
There's always someone, somewhere
With a big nose, who knows
And trips you up and laughs
When you fall
Who'll trip you up and laugh
When you fall

You say: "'Ere long done do does did"
Words which could only be your own
And then produce the text
From whence was ripped
Some dizzy whore in 1804

A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're happy
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Oh, Keats and Yeats are on your side
A dreaded sunny day
So let's go where we're wanted
And I meet you at the cemetry gates
Keats and Yeats are on your side
But you lose
'Cos the weird love of Wilde is on mine..."

bye bye, blackbird

2009-05-28T20:11:00.004+01:00

as there are too many birds, sadly it's time to say:
bye bye, blackbird:

sung by Peggy Lee

"...Pack up all my cares and woe
Here I go, singing low
Bye bye, blackbird

Where somebody waits for me
Sugar sweet, so is he
Bye bye, blackbird

No-one here can love or understand me
All those hard luck stories they all hand me
Make my bed, light my light
I'll arrive late tonight
Blackbird, bye bye

A while ago, when I was young
I heard a song and heard it sung
(Bye bye, blackbird)

I dont know why it makes me sad
a happy song should make me glad
(Bye bye, blackbird)

Make my bed, light my light
I'll arrive late tonight
Blackbird, bye bye..."

"...When smoke stood up from Ludlow,
And mist blew off from Teme,
And blithe afield to ploughing
Against the morning beam
I strode beside my team,

The blackbird in the coppice
Looked out to see me stride,
And hearkened as I whistled
The trampling team beside,
And fluted and replied:

"Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
What use to rise and rise?
Rise man a thousand mornings
Yet down at last he lies,
And then the man is wise."

I heard the tune he sang me,
And spied his yellow bill;
I picked a stone and aimed it
And threw it with a will:
Then the bird was still.

Then my soul within me
Took up the blackbird’s strain,
And still beside the horses
Along the dewy lane
It sang the song again:

"Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
The sun moves always west;
The road one treads to labour
Will lead one home to rest,
And that will be the best..."

Poem VII from 'A Shropshire Lad'
by A. E. Housman

bye bye, blackbird

too many birds

2009-05-25T22:45:00.014+01:00

of all the birdsong that graces my ears, perhaps it is the exuberant call of the simple blackbird that stirs my soul the most - perched in high places trilling morning, evening, before, during or after a rain shower - the improvised last notes of the call surprising myself and perhaps even the bird - the pure and authentic spirit of life.

so, it breaks my heart to think that when there are too many birds,
there is a blackbird that might not have a home:

"... Too many birds in one tree
Too many birds in one tree
And the sky is full of black and screaming leaves
The sky is full of black and screaming

And one more bird
Then one more bird
And one last bird
And another

One last black bird without a place to land
One last black bird without a place to be
Turns around in hopes to find, the place it last knew rest
Oh black bird, over black rain burn
This is not where you last knew rest
You fly all night to sleep on stone
The heartless rest that in the morn, will be gone
You fly all night to sleep on stone, to return to the tree with too many birds
Too many birds
Too many birds

If
If you
If you could
If you could only
If you could only stop
If you could only stop your
If you could only stop your heart
If you could only stop your heart-beat
If you could only stop your heart-beat for
If you could only stop your heart-beat for one heart
If you could only stop your heart-beat for one heart-beat..."

Oh blackbird, I'll give you a place to land, I'll give you a place to be, don't fly all night to try and find a place where you last knew rest, to sleep on stone - I'll try and make my garden a haven for you to nestle in. I'll try. But we all need such places too, including you and including me. Thank you Bill Callahan for helping me to realise this ;o)] xxx

I started out in search of ordinary things

2009-05-18T23:51:00.006+01:00

[thank you for coming today. the light shines through.
I started out in search of ordinary things:)

'Jim Cain' by Bill Callahan from 'Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle'

"...I started out in search of ordinary things:
How much of a tree bends in the wind.

I started telling the story without knowing the end.

I used to be darker, then I got lighter, then I got dark again,
Something to be seen was passing over and over me.
Well it seemed like the routine case at first:
With the death of the shadow came a lightness of verse.
But the darkest of nights, in truth, still dazzled,
And I work myself until I'm frazzled.

I ended up in search of ordinary things:
Like how can a wave possibly be?
I started running, and the concrete turned to sand,
I started running, and things didn't pan out as planned.

In case things go poorly and I not return,
Remember the good things I done.
In case things go poorly and I not return,
Remember the good things I done,
Or done me in..."

(I ended up in search of ordinary things ;o)]

I came to a high place of darkness and Light

2009-05-05T21:14:00.009+01:00

Bob married Isis on the fifth day of May
[but he could not hold on to her very long ... ! ;o)]

Here's 'Isis' by Bob Dylan,
featuring Scarlet Rivera playing captivating fiddle,
making a magical combination with
drums, harp, piano, bass and Bob's voice:

"... I married Isis on the fifth day of May,
But I could not hold on to her very long;
So I cut off my hair and I rode straight away
For the wild unknown country where I could not go wrong.

I came to a high place of darkness and light,
The dividing line ran through the center of town;
I hitched up my pony to a post on the right,
Went in to a laundry to wash my clothes down.

A man in the corner approached me for a match,
I knew right away he was not ordinary;
He said, "Are you lookin' for somethin' easy to catch?"
I said, "I got no money." He said, "That ain't necessary."

We set out that night for the cold in the North,
I gave him my blanket, he gave me his word;
I said, "Where are we goin'?" He said we'd be back by the fourth,
I said, "That's the best news that I've ever heard."

I was thinkin' about turquoise, I was thinkin' about gold,
I was thinkin' about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace;
As we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold,
I was thinkin' about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless.

How she told me that one day we would meet up again,
And things would be different the next time we wed;
If I only could hang on and just be her friend,
I still can't remember all the best things she said.

We came to the pyramids all embedded in ice,
He said, "There's a body I'm tryin' to find;
If I carry it out it'll bring a good price."
'Twas then that I knew what he had on his mind.

The wind it was howlin' and the snow was outrageous,
We chopped through the night and we chopped through the dawn;
When he died I was hopin' that it wasn't contagious,
But I made up my mind that I had to go on.

I broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty,
There was no jewels, no nothin', I felt I'd been had;
When I saw that my partner was just bein' friendly,
When I took up his offer I must-a been mad.

I picked up his body and I dragged him inside,
Threw him down in the hole and I put back the cover;
I said a quick prayer, and I felt satisfied,
Then I rode back to find Isis just to tell her I love her.

She was there, in the meadow, where the creek used to rise,
Blinded by sleep and in need of a bed;
I came in from the East with the sun in my eyes,
I cursed her one time, then I rode on ahead.

She said, "Where ya been?" I said, "No place special."
She said, "You look different." I said, "Well, I guess."
She said, "You been gone." I said, "That's only natural."
She said, "You gonna stay?" I said, "If you want me to, yes."

Isis, oh, Isis, you mystical child,
What drives me to you is what drives me insane;
I still can remember the way that you smiled,
On the fifth day of May in the drizzlin' rain ..."

softer than a shower ...

2009-05-05T18:42:00.010+01:00

that's me ... ! ;oD]
and this is my favourite track from the latest album by
The Decemberists,
for the imagery, beauty and pure, simple, gentle tenderness ...

"The Hazards Of Love 2 (Wager All)" from
'The Hazards Of Love' by The Decemberists

"... William:

And here I am, softer than a shower
And here I am, to garland you with flowers
To lay you down in a clover bed
The stars a roof above our heads

And all my life, I've never felt the tremor
And all my life, that now disturbs my fingers
I'll lay you down in a clover bed
The stars, a roof above our heads

And we'll lie until the Corn Crake crows
Bereft of the weight of our summer clothes
And I'd wager all
The hazards of love
The hazards of love

And take my hand, and cradle it in your hand
And take my hand, to feel the pull of quicksand
I'll lay you down in a clover bed
The stars, a roof above our heads

And we'll lie until the Corn Crake crows
Bereft of the weight of our summer clothes
And I'd wager all
The hazards of love
The hazards of love
The hazards of love
The hazards of
Love ..."

'tis the season

2009-05-04T16:57:00.003+01:00

'tis May, and so, 'tis the season for Morris Dancing, especially ...
Extreme Morris Dancing!

With thanks to the Dogrose Morris

[In terms of Morris Dancing, this is the most extreme that I get! ;o)]

so now another weekend starts with that longing feeling

2009-05-01T18:15:00.014+01:00

Well, a little longer weekend is just beginning (what with Monday being a Bank Holiday), but that shouldn't get in the way of:
a true feeling, a true thought, or the flowering of a true song ...

' A Short Weekend Begins With Longing'

by 'The Leisure Society'

Recorded as part of the project 'Bandstand Busking'

"... Fine for a while: we were happy 'til it died,
Fate shook the reigns from the hands of my accomplice.
Seven story signs, written in a simple language.

Turned into stone all the people they had known,
Lost on their way through a world of blank expression.
No-one made the time, everybody had their reasons.

So now another weekend starts with that longing feeling;
I'd hoped that you might feel it too ...

Winding my way through the plans I never made,
Don't step aside: I was hoping you might help me -
Save me once again, from this dreadful sinking feeling.

So now another weekend starts with that longing feeling;
I'd hoped that you might feel it too ...

Feel it too ..."

from 'The Sleeper' by The Leisure Society

No One Can Hold A Candle To You

2009-04-25T22:33:00.000+01:00

"...Say farewell to your fairweathered friends
And not a second too soon
To leave a life among ruins
Well there was nothing left but to
Cut ourselves loose...

...No one can hold a candle to you
When it comes down to virtue and truth
No one can hold a candle to you
And I dim next to you...

...No one can hold a candle to you
When it comes down to old-fashioned virtue..."

by Raymonde,
covered by Morrissey

Peace and Light at Easter

2009-04-12T11:55:00.001+01:00

easter
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

Wishing everyone an Easter filled with Peace and Light

pietà

2009-04-10T12:21:00.002+01:00

the wreck is not a boat

2009-04-05T16:12:00.004+01:00

from whistles like birds'
form the words -

"... he spoke:
the wreck is not a boat;
he spoke:

the boat is not a wreck ..."

'The Wreck Is Not A Boat'

by

Sons of Noel and Adrian

lenten ys come

2009-03-03T22:51:00.009Z

Lenten is come by Briddes Roune

A 13th Century song, sung in
early medieval English

"... Lenten ys come with love to toune,
With blosmen and with briddes roune,
That al this blisse bryngeth;
Dayes-eyes in this dales,
Notes suete of nyhtegales,
Uch foul song singeth;
The threstelcoc him threth oo,
Away is huere wynter wo,
When woderove springeth;
Thise foules singeth ferly fele,
Ant wlyteth on huere wunne wele,
That al the wode ryngeth.

The rose rayleth hire rode,
The leves on the lyhte wode
Waxen al with wille;
The mone mandeth hire bleo,
The lilie is lossom to seo,
The fenyl and the fille;
Wowes thise wilde drakes,
Miles murgeth huere makes
Ase strem that striketh stille.
Mody meneth; so doth mo
(Ichot ych am on of tho)
For loue that likes ille.

The mone mandeth hire lyht,
So doth the semly sonne bryht,
When briddes singeth breme;
Deawes donketh the dounes,
Deores with huere derne rounes
Domes for to deme;
Wormes woweth under cloude,
Wymmen waxeth wounder proude,
So wel hit wol hem seme,
Yef me shal wonte wille of on,
This wunne weole y wole forgon
Ant wyht in wode be fleme ..."

"... Spring has arrived, with love,
With flowers, and with birdsong,
Bringing all this joy.
Daisies in the valleys,
The sweet notes of nightingales,
Every bird sings a song.
The thrush is constantly wrangling;
Their winter misery is gone
When the woodruff flowers.
These birds sing in great numbers,
And chirp about their wealth of joys,
So that all the wood rings.

The rose begins to blush;
The leaves in the light-green wood
All unfurl gladly.
The moon sends out its light;
The lily is lovely to see,
The fennel and the wild thyme.
The wild ducks are courting,
Animals cajole their mates
Like a quietly-flowing stream.
Many men of spirit complain;
I know that I'm one of them
Because I'm crossed in love.

The moon sends out her light,
So does the bright, beautiful sun,
When birds sing gloriously.
Dews drench the hills;
Animals murmur secretly,
Passing their own judgements.
Worms make love underground;
Women put on amazing airs,
it suits them so well to do it.
If I don't have my will of one,
I'll give up all this wealth of joys,
And flee straight to the woods ..."

small world

2009-02-20T21:49:00.002Z

"... i've been caged for so long now
come on lord set me free ...

... hear the wilderness refrain
spring creeping through the park
and you can blame me for the rain ...

... but now i see, it's not
it's never been, it's not
a small world ..."

by jake flowers

this one's for all the lovers

2009-02-14T20:02:00.011Z

On Valentine's Day, this is for the lovers:

Dylan Thomas tells us why he writes poetry:

"... In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms,
I labour by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.

Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art ..."

'In My Craft or Sullen Art' by Dylan Thomas

If only I could learn to extend the love and generosity of spirit I freely give to other people and apply that same standard to my own self, then surely life would be that little bit easier and more breathable. Our motivation must not be to seek possessive or consumptive love. Rather, in seeking to generously, freely, creatively and thought-fully give, and learning to gain pleasure in this, without expecting or demanding anything in return, then, and only then, if this meets with the fostering of a deepening connection between two people associated with some form of reciprocation, then that would be completely overwhelming. It would be just as if it were always summer. So, the task at hand is 'to be there' to try and help make the lover well again:

"...When the lad for longing sighs,
Mute and dull of cheer and pale,
If at death's own door he lies,
Maiden, you can heal his ail.

Lovers' ills are all to buy:
The wan look, the hollow tone,
The hung head, the sunken eye,
You can have them for your own.

Buy them, buy them: eve and morn
Lovers' ills are all to sell.
Then you can lie down forlorn;
But the lover will be well.

Poem VI from 'A Shropshire Lad'
by A. E. Housman

Happy Valentine's Day everybody!

leaved petals

2009-02-14T19:43:00.011Z

Here is a set of four photos for Valentine's Day (click to see larger versions):

rose petals
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

One of my little quirks is collecting things, like a cheeky little magpie! ;op] Whilst on an autumnal adventure with Ruth last October I collected two late rose petals which had fallen to the ground and placed them in my moleskine.

leaved petals
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

pure pink petals, whose curls cast delicate shadows across the crisp white blank page

by heart
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

I kept the petals in my moleskine for safe keeping, hidden between two white leaves, but not forgotten. One of the petals I gave away - the bottom one here was collected on another occasion - at Hampton Loade Station on the Severn Valley Railway. And now, on Valentine's Day, rose petals are still nestled in my moleskine.

old and new leifs
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

In-between our leaves, we keep thoughts and feelings, where memories grow. And we create and leave space in those pure blank pages where tomorrow's experiences will be planted and nurtured. So, in days to come, we can say and affirm, to our-selves and each other: "yes; it was true; it did happen; even though memories lightly fade to sepia tones; I won't forget that ... I thought; I felt; I loved, and was loved" Happy Valentine's Day every-one. Yours in Friendship, Peace & Light, with much love from Simon ;o)] x

will nature make a man of me yet?

2009-02-14T10:53:00.014Z

Morrissey is back, and he's back doing a super-funky-doctor-monkey version of his 1983 hit with 'The Smiths': 'This Charming Man' [I just love it when the tempo breaks - amazing! ;o)]

this is a song for those who:
couldn't
shouldn't
and
mustn't

"... Punctured bicycle
On a hillside, desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet?
When in this charming car:
This charming man.
Why pamper life's complexity
When the leather runs smooth
On the passenger seat?
I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said:
"It's gruesome, that someone so handsome should care"

A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said: "return the ring"
(He knows so much about these things)
(He knows so much about these things)

I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said:
"It's gruesome, that someone so handsome should care"
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man ...
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man ...

A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said: "return the ring"
(He knows so much about these things)
(He knows so much about these things) ..."

Check out Morrissey's recent live concert on Radio2 here: I listened along, and tried my best to avoid a complete twitter-glut, but managed to restrain myself, (just)! Lyrical highlights include:

"...more breakfast-in-bed
and I'll bring the paper in later..."
(from 'Best Friend On The Payroll')

"...The world is full of crashing bores
and I must be one
because no-one ever turns to me to say:
"take me in your arms
and love me" ..."
(from 'The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores')

"...Reader meet author
with a hope of hearing sense
but you may be feeling let down
by the words of defence
He says:
"no-one ever sees me when I cry" ...
... oh, have you ever escaped
from a shipwrecked life? ..."
(from 'Reader Meet Author')

and despite
arms around waists,
arms around shoulders,
and
homespun philosophies ...
Morrissey says:
'I'm OK By Myself'

Go Moz! ;o)]

someday baby / baby some day

2009-02-05T19:01:00.007Z

I love discovering the stories and (r)evolutions of songs. I think this stems from my interest in traditional folk music, which is characterised by a proliferation of various variations of the same song: for instance I'm captivated by versions of the traditional songs 'Lord Bateman' and 'John Barleycorn'. But, in particular, it is the 'archaeologies' of Bob Dylan, and his artistic process, which I find fascinating. I suppose, for me, the ultimate expression of this is discovering and 'working through' the similarities and differences between 'Standing In The Doorway' from his album 'Time Out Of Mind' and 'Dreaming Of You' - a previously unreleased track which can be found in his latest album 'Bootleg 8: Tell Tale Signs'. But, there is another song that I'm thinking about right now: 'Someday Baby'. It features on his latest studio album 'Modern Times', and is perhaps the 'lightest' (in a good way!) track on there, atleast musically:

'Someday Baby' from 'Modern Times'

But, on 'Tell Tale Signs', we hear an alternate version of 'Someday Baby', which is much deeper and emotionally moving. Whilst listening to songs my mind seeks out musical and lyrical change and crescendo. And it finds it here, but ever so subtly, that it's almost impercepable . This is because Bob reveals the secret of the song immediately in the first verse - cards on the table, heart open, shaky vulnerability exposed - and is maintained throughout. There is a plateau, a stasis of heightened emotional intensity. And this intimacy - from the padding of symbols and gentle rolling bass - to trying to decipher Bob's actual words (it took me ages to work out he was singing: "...Little by little/ bit by bit/ everyday/ I'm becoming more/ of a hypocrite...") is sustained for a long, but short 6 minutes.

'Someday Baby' from 'Bootleg 8: Tell Tale Signs'

"...when I heard you was cold
I bought you a coat and hat
I think you must've forgotten 'bout that
someday baby
you ain't gonna worry
for me
anymore..."

The Fox In The Snow

2009-02-03T19:25:00.007Z

an amazing animation by chop pop:

"... Fox in the snow, where do you go
To find something you could eat?
'Cos the word out on the street is you are starving
Don't let yourself go hungry now
Don't let yourself grow cold
Fox in the snow

Girl in the snow, where do you go
To find someone who will do?
To tell someone all the truth before it kills you
They listen to your crazy laugh
Before you hang a right
And disappear from sight
What do they know anyway?
You'll read it in a book
What do they know anyway?
You'll read it in a book tonight

Boy on a bike, what are you like
As you cycle round the town?
You're going up, you're going down
You're going nowhere
It's not as if they're paying you
It's not as if it's fun
At least not anymore
When your legs are black and blue
It's time to take a break
When your legs are black and blue
It's time to take a holiday

Kid in the snow, way to go
It only happens once a year
It only happens once a lifetime
Make the most of it
Second just to being born
Second to dying too
What else would you do?

Fox in the snow ..."

"The Fox In The Snow"
by Belle & Sebastian

poetic lego

2009-02-02T21:00:00.014Z

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Originally uploaded by Bill Ward's Brickpile.

"... Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep ..."

'Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening'
by Robert Frost

[but is it a metaphor for death though? ;o)]

I love these Lego Poetry Vignettes by Bill Ward, in particular his amazing set of dioramas/cameos of poems by A. E Housman:

To an Athlete Dying Young
Originally uploaded by Bill Ward's Brickpile.

Poem XIX from 'A Shropshire Lad'

"... The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay,
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before the echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's ..."

Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now
Originally uploaded by Bill Ward's Brickpile.

Poem II from 'A Shropshire Lad'

"... Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my three score years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow ..."

Good Creatures, Do You Love Your Lives
Originally uploaded by Bill Ward's Brickpile.

Poem XXVI from 'More Poems'

"... Good creatures, do you love your lives
And have you ears for sense?
Here is a knife like other knives,
That cost me eighteen pence.

I need but stick it in my heart
And down will come the sky,
And earth's foundations will depart
And all you folk will die ..."

and

Yonder See the Morning Blink
Originally uploaded by Bill Ward's Brickpile.

Poem XI from 'Last Poems'

"... Yonder see the morning blink:
The sun is up, and up must I,
To wash and dress and eat and drink
And look at things and talk and think
And work, and God knows why.

Oh often have I washed and dressed
And what's to show for all my pain?
Let me lie abed and rest:
Ten thousand times I've done my best
And all's to do again ..."

advice to your younger self

2009-01-31T10:04:00.004Z

in the absence of resolution(s):
q. what have i been doing for the past month?
a. pondering what advice i would give to my younger self

always summer

2009-01-17T23:02:00.000Z

"... it could be like this; just like this; always ..."

"...If only it could be like this always:
always alone; always summer;
the fruit always ripe;
and Aloysius always in a good temper!..."

Fantasy Impromptu in C sharp minor,
Op. 66 "Always Summer"
Andrew Johnston, BBC Philharmonic Orchestra
from the soundtrack to
"Brideshead Revisited"

surprise ice

2009-01-11T14:30:00.004Z

I went to my first Quaker Meeting of 2009 this morning - and it was the first time I'd been to Wolverhampton Friends' Meeting House. I'm glad I went. Afterwards, I walked for a while around West Park. In the slow thaw the lake was filled with plates of ice. The Canada Geese, usually animated, were quite subdued - bemused, a little surprised perhaps, at having to negotiate both water and ice. I had my camera in my pocket, and it stayed there, as I sat on a bench for a few minutes looking at the little island sheets of ice, before making my way back towards home.

"Love comes like surprise ice
on the water
Love comes like surprise ice
at dawn
Love comes like surprise ice
on the water
Love comes
at dawn"

from 'Surprise Ice'
by Kings of Convenience

the quivering tree

2009-01-10T21:33:00.008Z

"There by itself like a tree it shows;
That high it reaches as deep it grows,
And when the storms are its branches shaking,
It deeper root in the soil is taking.

Be then no more by a storm dismayed,
For by it the full-grown seeds are laid;
And though the tree by its might it shatters,
What then, if thousands of seeds it scatters?"

from 'That Cause Can Neither Be Lost nor Stayed'

with thanks to Ruth for taking the photo
during one of our adventures

bending our lives to active peacemaking

2009-01-10T18:45:00.004Z

I recently discovered that Gene Stoltzfus of Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) is giving a speaking tour, which includes a talk called "Bending Our Lives To Active Peacemaking" at Bull Street Friends Meeting House, Birmingham on Saturday 31st January 14.00 - 16.00. Here are the details.

Tom Fox, a Quaker from Langley Hill Friends Meeting, West Virginia, was one of the CPT Iraq hostages in 2006, alongside Norman Kember. Tom sent an e-mail to a friend just before he returned to Iraq and was taken hostage, where he quoted this beautiful prayer from Abbess Hildegard of Bingen:

"Holy Spirit; giving life to all beings; moving all creatures; root of all things; washing them clean; wiping out their mistakes; healing their wounds; you are our true life; luminous; wonderful; awakening the heart from its ancient sleep."

Tragically, Tom lost his life, and I hope to go along to the talk just to be present as a little way of witnessing to Tom - that he didn't die for peace; but he gave his life for peace; and that it wasn't in vain.

escape hatch = peace

2009-01-10T17:49:00.007Z

Holding in the Light the people of Gaza

I can't begin to imagine what the situation must be like. All I can think of are 3 photos from a Fellowship of Reconciliation peace delegation to Palestine in November 2008 (I was asked to apply to go along, but decided not to in the end) which point toward peace: i) that we must overcome barriers to peace ii) peace is so resilient, and iii) the answer will always be peace - escape hatch = peace. Thanks to Joff.

Statement from Middle Eastern Quakers on the crisis

new year new light

2008-12-31T00:39:00.001Z

new year new light
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

swings and roundabouts

2008-12-31T00:31:00.002Z

"Now dreary dawns the eastern light,
And fall of eve is drear,
And cold the poor man lies at night,
And so goes out the year.

Little is the luck I've had,
And oh, 'tis comfort small
To think that many another lad
Has had no luck at all."

Poem XXVIII from 'Last Poems'
by A. E. Housman

but luck can change:

"... I who
have been made free
by the tide’s pendulum truth
that the heart that is low now
will be at the full tomorrow."

extract from 'At The End'
by R. S. Thomas

;o)]

building dreams

2008-12-30T17:45:00.003Z

"... and i recall, in spring,
the perfume that the air would bring
to the indolent town ...

... and i am nothing of a builder,
but here i dreamt i was an architect ...

... and we are vagabonds,
we travel without seat-belts on:
we live this close to death ..."

one of my favourite songs by the decemberists:
'here i dreamt i was an architect'
from castaways & cutouts

for this time

2008-12-24T11:42:00.002Z

"...May your soul calm, console and renew you. May the light of your soul guide you. May the light of your soul bless the work you do with the secret love and warmth of your heart. May the day never burden you. May dawn find you awake, alert, approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities and promises. May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected..."

Peace and Light
love from
Si
x
;o)]

Poem XX from 'Last Poems' by A. E. Housman

2008-11-30T18:20:00.000Z

"... The night is freezing fast,
To-morrow comes December;
And winterfalls of old
Are with me from the past;
And chiefly I remember
How Dick would hate the cold.

Fall, winter, fall; for he,
Prompt hand and headpiece clever,
Has woven a winter robe,
And made of earth and sea
His overcoat for ever,
And wears the turning globe ..."

White Winter Hymnal

2008-11-29T15:55:00.003Z

by 'Fleet Foxes'

Winter Swans

2008-11-09T18:44:00.006Z

"... The clouds had given their all -
two days of rain and then a break
in which we walked,

the waterlogged earth
gulping for breath at our feet
as we skirted the lake, silent and apart,

until the swans came and stopped us
with a show of tipping in unison.
As if rolling weights down their bodies to their heads

they halved themselves in the dark water,
icebergs of white feather, paused before returning again
like boats righting in rough weather.

'They mate for life' you said as they left,
porcelain over the stilling water. I didn't reply
but as we moved on through the afternoon light,

slow-stepping in the lake's shingle and sand,
I noticed our hands, that had, somehow,
swum the distance between us

and folded, one over the other,
like a pair of wings settling after flight ..."

from 'Skirrid Hill' by Owen Sheers

'Winter Swans' by Kate Somers

For A Minor Reflection

2008-11-09T16:23:00.005Z

'For A Minor Reflection' are a relatively new group from Iceland, who are currently the supporting act for Sigur Ros on their tour. I saw them for the first time at the Wolverhampton Civic this past Tuesday (4th November), and they were completely amazing.

Check out this track recorded from the concert:

In the absence of words, this band say everything - their music produces the time and space to articulate meaning. They create emotion. And in so doing - provoke an emotional response. This is unsurpassable empathy and connectedness - and you can't ask for much more. Caught in a moment, like when two people unexpectedly catch each others' eyes and immediately smile in recognition and acceptance that they know they both feel the same way.

I bought the CD and a T-Shirt afterwards! One of the guitarists liked my blue British Sea Power T-Shirt ... ! ;o)] It was the drummer's birthday! Their CD is wonderful - I highly recommend it. The record forms a perfect circle - the short 'Intro' making complete sense once the whole has been listened to. By the end, the 'intro' becomes a 'reprise'. This is pure genius - by planting a seed at the start 'For A Minor Reflection' retrospectively create a piece that in it's 'wholeness' blooms into something amazing. From the very beginning the band are remembering something that 'has been' for them, but is 'yet to come' for us . And what has already been experienced by the band, once shared with the listener, becomes something very special for all of us ...

For A Minor Reflection on MySpace

all the trees of the field have clapped their hands

2008-11-03T23:27:00.009Z

"For ye shall go out with joy,
and be led forth with peace:
the mountains and the hills shall break
forth before you into singing,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands"
Isaiah 55:12 (KJV)

"... if I am alive this time next year
will I have arrived in time to share?
and mine is about as good this far
and I'm still applied to what you are
and I am joining all my thoughts to you
and I'm preparing every part for you

and I heard from the trees a great parade
and I heard from the hills a band was made
and will I be invited to the sound?
and will I be a part of what you've made?
and I am throwing all my thoughts away
and I'm destroying every bet I've made
and I am joining all my thoughts to you
and I'm preparing every part for you ..."

all the trees of the field will clap their hands
by sufjan stevens

and I have seen the trees shiver and clap their hands
and from the shudder
down came the leaves

Llyn Hesgin by Clyde Holmes

I recently discovered the passing of the landscape painter Clyde Holmes. I found the portrayal of his life and work in the 1997 series 'Visions of Snowdonia' very poignant and inspiring. I first saw, through the documentary, how a life of art and poetry can be made whole. How, through our lives art, poetry and any 'creative expression' can become a vocation. Clyde's vocation was the upland landscape of Snowdonia, in particular Llyn Hesgyn near Bala. This was an intermediate place - neither pastoral lowland, nor sublime and dramatic mountains. Nor was the vocation of the artist a romantic one (personally, I became aware that allowing myself to open up to the 'poetic' side of my life and personality was difficult and painful, and could leave me emotionally exhausted, in need of just lying down.) The smoothed contours of words and brush strokes were moulded like this through the slow and persistent attrition of the elements. And his peopleless paintings, for me, are populated with so much humanity, because these places were seen and known and experienced and then shared through the eye of an artist - Clyde Holmes. Rest in peace.

Autumn

The trees are open
cages - now the leaves escape
through bars they reveal

haiku by Clyde Holmes

previous autumn-esque offerings:

http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2007/10/trying-to-answer-times-of-no-reply.html
http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2005/11/autumn-pause-for-thought.html
http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2005/10/and-then-heart-replies.html
http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2005/10/time-of-no-reply.html
http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2005/10/field-of-autumn.html
http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2004/10/slants-on-autumn.html
http://underthegreenhill.blogspot.com/2006/09/fruit-tree.html

tell tale signs: walking through the leaves

2008-10-08T23:39:00.002+01:00

" ... walking through the leaves
falling from the trees

feel like a stranger
nobody sees

so many things
we never will undo

I know you're sorry
I'm sorry too ... "

from unreleased version #3 of 'Mississippi'
by Bob Dylan

Passing Afternoon

2008-09-28T17:12:00.002+01:00

to help pass the time during the passing afternoons
of our endless numbered days:

P&L x ;o)]

Stars of Track and Field are Beautiful People

2008-08-17T14:12:00.005+01:00

In homage of the Olympics here's
"The Stars of Track and Field"
by Belle & Sebastian

"... in your blue velour and silk
you liberated
a boy I never rated
now he's throwing discus
for Liverpool & Widnes ..."

"... you only did it
so that you could wear
terry underwear
and feel the city air
run past your body ..."

Stars of Track and Field are beautiful people!

;o)]

Dreaming of You

2008-08-11T20:29:00.002+01:00

Bob Dylan never ceases to amaze, astound and inspire me with
his creativity and pure genius:

I love you Bobby!

the only double negative i can cope with

2008-07-20T17:13:00.004+01:00

I hate double negatives.

But, when it comes to Leonard Cohen's song 'There Ain't No Cure For Love', who is touring again for the first time in ages, I can just about cope with it, because of the way the words are used with such poetic beauty to reveal the reassuring truth that:

"... I don't need to be forgiven for loving you so much ..."

I think perhaps my hopes, my joys, my fears, my sorrows, my perspectives, (including how I feel about Quakerism), are all little double-negatives in themselves. I feel these, in turn, make up the one great big double-negative that id my life, which either waits to be unravelled, or has to be inevitably accepted and embraced to salvage ("redeem") something, to allow some positive meaning to shine through. I know I ain't making no sense, but there you go ...

'There Ain't No Cure For Love' by Leonard Cohen,
performing live at Glastonbury, 2008:

"... I see you in the subway
and I see you riding in the bus
I see you lying down with me
and I see you waking up

I see your hands
I see your hair
Your bracelets and your brush

And I call to you
I call to you

But I don't call soft enough ..."

Well, my Heart's in the Highlands

2008-06-20T21:08:00.007+01:00

"... Well my heart's in the Highlands, gentle and fair,
Honeysuckle blooming in the wildwood air,
Bluebells blazing, where the Aberdeen waters flow
Well my heart's in the Highlands,
I'm gonna go there when I feel good enough to go ...

Well, I'm going to the Highlands of Scotland tomorrow for a week with my family. So, I guess I'll see ya around, huh? I'll let you know what I found there when I return. In the meantime, look after each other and all the best!

Yours in Friendship, Peace and Light

(Pax et Lux!)

with much love from

Simon
xxx

... I see people in the park,
forgetting their troubles and woes,
They're drinking and dancing,
wearing bright colored clothes:
All the young women
and the young men looking so good
Well, I'd trade places with any of them
In a minute, if I could ..."

from 'Highlands' by Bob Dylan

sea change

2008-06-19T23:47:00.002+01:00

I can feel the sea-change in the air, like water rising to lap over my toes - that in times of drought I no longer doubt God, but realise that I am not as present or as close to, God than at other times

my hay day

2008-05-24T17:02:00.005+01:00

I went to the Hay-on-Wye Literary Festival for the first time yesterday with my family. I had a wonderful time. We enjoyed listening to several talks on ancient trees, in particular, ethnobotanist Fred Hageneder gave a fascinating overview of the cultural, ecological and spiritual significance of the Yew Tree. The festival had such a great atmosphere. In the evening I was totally blown away by a concert from the Touareg Band "Tinariwen" from Mali. I've been listening to their music for quite a while, but this was the first time I'd seen them live - completely amazing.

Hay Festival

Hay Festival on The Guardian

twittering from bym

2008-05-24T17:02:00.001+01:00

Check out what's happening at Britain Yearly Meeting (an annual gathering of Quakers at Friends House) with Twittering from 'the Friend'

Pax et Lux

2008-05-11T16:42:00.003+01:00

Pax et Lux
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

I often sign off messages with the phrase "Peace & Light"

In a recent exchange of e-mails with an American friend I met last year on Iona, he signed off in response to my signature with

"Pax et Lux!"

And then, last Friday night, I used these two phrases for the first time in prayer:

Pax et Lux

Peace & Light

love

Si
x
;o)]

descending Light

2008-05-11T16:03:00.007+01:00

sunset
Originally uploaded by Simon Latham.

I saw this sunset yesterday evening whilst on a walk around the lower slopes of The Wrekin

a sunset ... like a lick of pentecostal flame coming down to rest upon the land ...

"The Coming of the Holy Spirit" by Soichi Watanabe

"When the Feast of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Without warning there was a sound like a strong wind, gale force—no one could tell where it came from. It filled the whole building. Then, like a wildfire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks, and they started speaking in a number of different languages as the Spirit prompted them."

Acts 2:1-4 (The Message: Remix)

I read on a blog once that "Quakerism is Pentecostalism for introverts" - how true!

In a talk on peace activism at a Young Friends gathering in Newcastle last May, Helen Steven, Quaker and member of the Iona Community, reminded us of the active qualities of spirituality - just as the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost wasn't a quiet or passive event.

And then, whilst spending a week on Iona myself last September for an ecumenical gathering, at times when the wind blew hard, I found myself turning to face the wind. The noise of the air whistled in my ears. It not only took my breath away - the wind sometimes became my breath - when I opened my mouth I did not need to inhale - the force of the air filled my lungs for me.

And now, I need to try and find the courage to turn and face the Light; to open my heart to God; to allow Christ to open my heart; and to feel the Holy Spirit dwelling in me.