chronic apathy

"The World Will End Tomorrow"

Ok. Pass a bottle. Turn the tv up.

Shut the door, it's draughty.

'and before they were slain, they slew'

Gereint filius Erbin

('Geraint son of Erbin')

En llogporth y gueleise arwev
guir. a guyar in dinev.
agvydi gaur garv atnev.

En llogporth y gueleise. y arthur
guir deur kymynint a dur.
ameraudur llywiaudir llawur.

En llogoporth y llas y gereint.
guir. deur o odir diwneint.
a chin rillethid ve.llatysseinet.

~ ~ ~ ~

At Llongborth I saw the weapons
of men, and gushing blood,
and after the battle-cry, grim burial.

At Llongborth I saw Arthur's
brave men, they hewed with steel,
emperor, leader in toil.

At Llongborth were slain Geraint's
brave men from the lowlands of Devon,
and before they were slain, they slew.

'David Gray sings it'

The song I heard when we threw shells
up into the air and laughed at reflected light.
The same song when seagulls huddled near us
on a rock and we breathed quietly to watch them.
You brushing your hair long and each sweep
of the brush sent down ripples to your shoulders.
Our feet on springy turf, erratic rock,
and back to turf again.
God, how I miss you.I miss you
again and again and again.
I am afraid to speak your name in my mind
because this train is full of people.
I am afraid to think about the song.
When I get home to Ireland
I will draw my curtains
and listen to it on the tape
and nobody will see me.

~ by Pat Ingoldsby

well do you?

When it’s night time
I try to listen
To the cars’ drone
And be interested
In where they’re going
But sometimes
My thoughts wander and
I can’t help but wonder
If, when you die,
If you hear
Anything at all - will
A single word
Help to re-assure you all when
I say
My last?

a good thing going

The Blue Lamp. So called because, yes, you guessed it - there's a fuck-off big blue-glass gas lantern outside (try saying that after a few!)

Now let's be clear; it's dingy, shabby, the barman can be quiet and odd, the drink prices are made up as he goes along, and candles offer a source of heat in the winter. You'd half expect to see a Hogwarts student huddled in the corner. So the Ritz it's NOT. Yet it's amazing.

Folk-sessions on a Monday and Celtic Society ('Celtic Sock') on a Thursday ensure it's got a good following in the wee group of folk-minded people I hang out with (about five of us). Just imagine the snow falling thick on the city streets - it's pitch black and speckled white outside. The windows rattle in the upstairs room and you alternate your hands from your pockets to the candle on the table. Sounds of a fiddle, guitar, a tin whistle, sometimes pipes and accordions fill the building and spill out into the glazed street outside.

It's times like that you don't care about anything too complicated.

waiting for autumn

The campus is at it's best in the autumn and winter, I think. Ok, so it'll mean colder mornings - people sweatered up and with moist breath condencing in the air. Paper cups of tea and coffee held in numb hands. Slush from the leaves, and later on salt from the roads to combat the snow.

Keeping your coats on in lectures and the pub. Not even really wanting a pint sometimes if it's too cold - a cup of tea please, barman. And one of your hot burgers.

Keeping your hands up your sleves; only taking them out to go to turn the page of your book. It's the only time smokers are kind of lucky.

In the City proper, you just hang around the bookshops and cafes. A bit odd, but autumn, books, drinks and snacks go well. It's probably because you enjoy warmth inside more when you know other people are freezing outside. In some places where the staff are cool, you can sit for hours and read or play chess whilst it rages outside.

Enough of the romantic stuff. I'm going to go and wait for the leaves to fall.

eccentric whale

you know a band are worth seeing when the frontman steps up to the mic and announces

"um, this is a song from our unfinished new ablbum... it's called Eccentric Whale!"