My love I hung
on a line,
out to dry.
To the bitter winds
of jealousy.
To the calm winds
of an embrace.
Shrivelled by the hot, scirocco
winds of passion.
Lava souls melting.
Lusted and lusting.
Wanted and wanting.
My love I hung
on a line,
in fear of
the black, polluted
dust of decay.
Of love no more
which no wind will stir.
Thank you to all of you who stopped by in 2012. I hope to continue seeing you this year.
Have a great 2013. each and every one of you.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,200 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.
Old Birdman sits and stares
Squinting in the sun
The sparrows eagerly await the moment
when he
Opens the white paper bag
placed upon his lap
They know him now
and his eating habits.
The bag rustles
He looks inside
No smile lights his face
as he takes out
the sandwich
Which he will share
They gather around his feet
never coming too close
awaiting the moment
he eats and drops the crumbs
He watches the pigeons on the grass
fed fat from passers-by
He hopes they stay where they are
and not chase his sparrows away.
It’s the twenty second, yesterday gone
No super volcano or atomic bomb
Someones’ calculation went astray
The world should have ended yesterday
Down in Yucatan in ages past
Predictions made a little too fast
A man, a chief with feathered hat band
Arms to the sky, numbers in sand
2-1 1-2 2-0-1-2
I’m still here, what about you?
The clock is ticking
Running down the time
As we run down our lives
The clock will stop one day
And so will we, we may
Look back on what we’ve done
We’ll look back and see
Just you and me, and we
Shall cherish all we done
Old, tall silver-sided Sycamore tree
Silhouette against the grey winter sky
Leaves fallen, now gone
No sign your summer ever existed
In this cold December air
No sign my summer ever existed
Gone. Another year passing.
The longing for spring is already upon me
![IMG_0715[1]](https://christopherfarley.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/img_07151.jpg?w=538&h=718)
Well, the 30th November has come and gone. How did I do? Was it a success?
Let’s be frank. I didn’t get 50’000 words down during the month; far from it, in fact I finished with under 20’000. This was due, in part, to two factors. One of which no-one could have foreseen and necessitated 3 weekends out of 4 away from home. The other simply being that work commitments HAVE to come before my writing for pleasure as I’ve never earned a buck from my writing and I’m not in the position to do so now. Bills must be paid and there were times during the month when I came home late and the last thing I wanted to do was sit in front of another computer. I did force myself a few times, and it shows in what I wrote (I’m sure I’ll be murdering a fair few of THOSE darlings…). Instead, the times when I felt at ease the words flowed, humour was easier to come by and the characters gelled and developed.
I returned from visiting my folks in England at the end of October and sat down (as I’ve previously mentioned on here) on 1st November with little idea what to do or where to go with it once I had it. I always thought it an exageration when I read that writers, or rather successful ones, don’t know what their characters are going to get up to when they sit at the keyboard. “What a load of old tosh!” I said to myself. However, now I’m a changed man. It’s not tosh at all. I started the beginning of the exercise with no plot whatsoever – none! It developed and it is still developing and I love it. It’s the first time this has happened to me and it’s a fantastic feeling.
So; what about my novel? It’s there, it’s at early stages. My characters are still sussing each other out. I’m discovering traits in a couple of them that weren’t there at the start. A couple of big-hitters are still yet to show their faces but they will, in time. I’ve been learning how to tell their story, I hope by the end I make at least a reasonable job of doing so. I hope so.
Finally, I want to say a BIG THANK YOU to the NaNoWriMo team for uniting writers from all over the world for one cause; to write. No more, no less. In my 19’000 words you helped me become more of a writer than I was at the end of October. There’s the possibility I may never earn a buck from my writing, but I do know I’ll enjoy it all the more for the experience during the last month. You see NaNoWriMo has given me the discipline to write, when I can. One evening I turned out 2’000 words in one sitting. I’ve never done that before and boy, what a feeling.
So, was it a success? Personally, yes.
Thank you.
Considering I still wasn’t sure how to approach this until the evening of 01 November, I’m happy, nay, over the moon to share the fact that I have now put 4’375 words to paper, well, Microsoft Word anyway. Only just over 45’000 to go…
That’s it, that’s the limit of my blogging, I’m all NaNoWriMo’d out – 1’200 words this evening.
I wandered listless but restless.
I walked in the shadows, defenceless.
I wandered thinking, without knowing.
My soul in pain, my self-doubt growing.
I lost my way, though the way was marked.
So I waited at the crossroads, wishing I’d asked
What do I do? How? What shall I give?
To find the way home; distant, elusive.
Nothing New – great song by one of the greatest bands ever to grace the stage – albeit till 1985 – Hanoi Rocks.
It sums me up at the moment. Nothing new, nothing borrowed, nothing blue. I’m on a creative non-wave. It’s not writer’s block; I have flashes of inspiration all the time, I just can’t do anything with them, or rather I can’t sit my ass down and do anything with them, which is worse. I blamed it on the summer – beautiful weather, drinks with friends on the lake, holiday in Ibiza etc. but now autumn is officially here (a week of rain proves it) I am still producing Nothing! Nada! Zilch! Niente! Rien!
A writer should be able to at least read when he’s not writing – I can’t even do that. I’m sifting through (albeit pretty damn good) music biographies (Mötley Crüe, Led Zepppelin, New York Dolls, Johnny Cash). I’ve hit a literary (literally) wall. Aaaahhhh!!! What do I have to do, wait till the snow arrives? Become like Jack Torrance in The Shining (without axe-weilding tendencies obviously…)???
I’ve slept on it, I’ve drunk on it, I’ve partied on it, I’ve moped on it, I’ve meditated on it – I am a man without an answer.
What am I gonna do? I’ll let you know. I’ll be back…
I’m not a poet, and I rarely rhyme but today is different.
______________________________________________
A harsh word slipped and fell today
Between two friends
No further words exchanged this day
No way to make amends
I hoped to catch a glance or maybe
The return of a friendly smile
Instead my day empty remained
My evening too, defiled
I walked over the broken earth
of a broken life
I swam through the stream clear,
a stream of tears
I fell twisted and scarred
into your arms, once again.
Firstly, I want to thank Loni for the nomination – you surprised me there, and although this is belated, again I want to say “Muchas Gracias!!”
For those of you unfamiliar with Loni’s work (and blog), she can be found at http://loniduekart.wordpress.com/ – before reading any further please go see – you will NOT be disappointed.
So, after several weeks I’ve finally got round to posting this – busy, busy etc. So, where next?
Ah, 7 random things about myself…Hmmm…
1) I love reading on the balcony during a storm, however lightning striking the garden opposite is pretty damn hairy. The cognac WAS for medicinal purposes.
2) I love the sun but don’t like lying in it – is there a happy medium?
3) I like poetry, but don’t understand it.
4) I want to grow chlili plants, but southern Switzerland is not the ideal climate.
5) I want to ride the Pan-American Highway on a BMW GS1200, which would probably mean I’d get lost in the Mendoza region drinking Malbec for ooohhh, several years I guess.
6) I want to write something in Italian – my second language, but can’t…just can’t get it to flow.
7) I live surrounded by mountains, yet my heart lies with the ocean.
Voila! Now I’d like to introduce you to 15, yes 15, blogs which I follow. In no particular order and for a variety of reasons, I present:
1) Morgen Bailey – a veritable mine of information, and a couple of my Flash pieces to boot. Always helpful, I am in your debt. Thanks Morgen.
http://morgenbailey.wordpress.com/
2) Jason Alan – writer, poet, cow photographer 🙂
http://jasonalanwriter.wordpress.com/
3) Patrick O’ Brien – you have balls the size of watermelons for your decision. (People, don’t take my word for it, READ this blog). Sir, take a bow.
4) Sharmishtha – for the input your blogs give me (yes, Trisha has more than 1).
http://earthinbw.wordpress.com/
5) Cara Olsen – Your words of encouragement are priceless. Thank you. I now know what Dutch-doors are 🙂 (Cara also has several blogs, all merit a click). You are to vocabulary what Emerson, Lake & Palmer are to music. I, for good or bad, am The Ramones.
http://thislittlelight516.wordpress.com/
6) Stella Marr – For showing the realities of a different life and having the guts to do so. It’s not so much a lovely blog as a damned hard hitting one. No roses grow from this bed but I want to nominate it, simple as.
http://secretlifeofamanhattancallgirl.wordpress.com/
7) Ruth Jacobs – whilst we’re on the subject; a fascinating insight. Again, not lovely in the flowery sense of the word but the truth, no matter how hard and ugly, will always win through.
http://souldestructionblog.wordpress.com/
8) Cristian Mihai – never dull, always informative.
9) Cheryl Moore – I admit trouble keeping up, but I do try.
http://cherylmoore.wordpress.com/
10) Max – Dangerous blog, I REALLY should be writing… 🙂
11) Returning to India, Tanushree I must mention.
http://privyplace.wordpress.com/
12) Jennifer Ritchie – Finally a blog from Switzerland and an interesting and helpful one at that. Must fire a few blog-related questions at you…
http://theentertainingbusiness.com/
13) Lesley Carter – You make me wanna just get up and go.
http://lesleycarter.wordpress.com/
14) Chicago Addick – Can’t let the opportunity slip to get my football team in somewhere.
http://chicagoaddick.wordpress.com/
15) Jane Wenham-Jones – A star from my part of the world. Don’t just look, buy! And no, the wine glass hasn’t been surgically attached…
Friday morning crisis – friends for dinner tomorrow. He’s a chef, she’s a restaurant manager. Theme? Italian? No, because they are and it would be like trying to show ME how to make a cup of tea (or pour a Weissbier). Mexican? No-one likes it as spicy as I do – I AM the Jalopeno Kid. Indian – way too heavy. Then, an idea…
Greek / Eastern Mediterranean – different, appetizing and good. Trouble is lamb is the staple and in Switzerland (don’t ask me why) finding lamb is like finding a sober judge.
I shall consult the good girlfriend when she wakes up…
It’s Friday, people!!!
So here I am in southern Switzerland. The sun is out, the sky is blue and I’m at home with the flu – yes I know it’s not the Buddy Holly lyric but it’ll do.
Is it an excuse not to write? No. It does however make thinking a little harder, rational decision making a little more difficult and something I had in the pipeline may now stay there a few more days as I can’t conclude it. BUT, it is the reason this new page has appeared on my blog. Till now, I’ve not used it as a “social” thing, i.e. talking with you, if, of course anyone’s out there.
The books tell us to just get words down on paper, irrespective of grammatical error, spelling mistake or, God forbid, use passive tense. Well, in my mini-mire of flu-induced writer’s (HaHa!!) block, I decided my blog needed “Transient Crap” under my home page. Even if I can’t get down what’s in my head, I can still get down what’s ready to come out of my mouth – very often not the same thing.
With this non-thought, I’ll make myself a cup of tea.
C.
My second Flash piece submission to Morgen Bailey.
Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the forty-third piece of flash fiction in this series. This week’s welcomes back Christopher Farley with his 727-worder.
Sleep Well
He slammed the door, got into his car and drove like a madman from her house. He was sick of arguing, tired of continually being in the wrong and now he had had enough. Jo was good looking and had many admirers, sometimes to Mannie’s annoyance, but sex and a good looking girlfriend weren’t enough to keep him tied to a relationship that consisted of too much tension and too many fights. This one had ended physically, and after her various insults he had hit her. It was just a slap, he thought, as he left her holding the left side of her face.
The brake-lights in front flashed. Possibly Mannie was distracted. Guns n’ Roses were playing loud on the stereo. Possibly he…
View original post 1,084 more words
Under a yellow, sickening sky did I
Come from above, where once I
Led a strong legion, all powerful but I
Wanted more, much more so I
Employed temptation, persuasion for I
Used a woman to get at man and I
Have been ever present , beside you, I
Wanted followers too, however I
Misjudged your faith, I misjudged you.
Green; the leaves on the trees no longer fresh from spring.
Spring, now past. The grass beneath my bare feet in the morning dew.
Dew; a million tiny drops of water, my feet wet and cool in the morning.
Dawning, the sun is rising, to evaporate the dew. Grass turns brown.
A cup of tea
Yorkshire tea, aye
Will become a soup
If left to lie
If left to lie
Cool down, stagnate
No more my thirst
Shall it slake
On the balcony
It was left to lie
Whilst between jobs
Did I
Go to an fro
As a bee
And forget about
My cup of tea
The drunken colonel, after a morning aperitif of several G&T’s, finds himself seated for lunch in a restaurant he happened to fall into:
>
“Waiter, there’s a turd in my soup.”
“No Sir, that is Tofu.”
“Toffee, waiter? I like to drink my soup, not chew on it.”
“T.O.F.U. Sir. It is a meat alternative.”
“Waiter, if I ask for chicken soup why would you serve me a meat alternative?”
“House rules Sir.”
“House rules? What the devil are you talking about man?”
“Yes Sir. This is a vegetarian restaurant Sir. We do not offer meat products.”
“Vegetarian restaurant? What, you mean no meat and two veg?”
“Just the two veg Sir, in fact more if you wish Sir.”
“Vegetarians… I blame vegetarianism on the lesbians you know.”
“What, Sir, may I ask, have the two in common?”
“There you go, you just said it. Greenham Common. Thirty years ago thousands of ordinary housewives went there to protest about nuclear deployment. They all came back lesbians and vegetarians.”
“Oh Sir, I think you are exaggerating the link, even if I am too young to remember. After all, I grew up a vegetarian.”
You’re not gay are you?”
“No Sir, I am married.”
“And your wife, she doesn’t bat for the other team then does she?”
“Sir, I can assure you we have two healthy boys, who are not gay and we are all vegetarians. About the soup Sir?”
“Something less resembling a floating turd would be my soup of choice. Oh, and waiter, a man can only drink so much water; bring me the wine list would you?”
“Sir, this is a non-alcoholic restaurant, we intentionally do not have a licensed premises.”
“?!?!?”
>
Exit waiter, rapidly.
My Words, My World 