Blew out my brain like a flat tire this morning. That happens when I get a head full of ideas but can’t them out fast enough. The after math of which is a stress headache or at least I presumed to be a stress headache. At times like these, I’m tempted to reach for the Chivas Regal and make my brain a little peace offering. But I know it will only slow me down. Soldiering on is the only option.

I’ve been reading about Allen Ginsberg’s American Sentences, which is movement he started to Americanise the Haiku. Instead of the 5-7-5 patterned lines, the American Sentence is, well a sentence of exactly 17 syllables. They seem like good practice for heightening one’s awareness of the things around them. Like this morning I wrote:

Smoke drifts in thin line, silence cut by time, the day lurks and night retreats.

It’s an observation of me burning incense and watching the dawn rise through the cracks in my curtains.

Paul Nelson fell in love with the American Sentences and has been documenting the movement ever sense. He has written an American Sentence a day for that last 4 years.

I’ve gotta give my brain a break and not thrash it like this.

Ok, I think I’ll leave you with this:
a personal piece of hell

after breakfast
they would take her
quietly, get straight
to work doing wrong

but you wouldn’t know this

life is knowing
the lay of the land
how it stands
to make anyone
other than me

free from this
living hell


I like the diversity of sights and sounds in a big city. I don’t know how you feel about public transport, but I think taking a bus across the city is a fantastic way to survey the landscape.

I took the #48 bus from Downend to Bristol City Centre, a distance of about 7 and half miles.  One of the cool things about this stretch of road is the the lack of big company storefronts.  Instead, both sides of the Downend/Fishponds road are lined with mom and pop shots of every variety. I can’t attest to their quality, but they looked interesting.

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Once I got into the city centre I decide to stay with the theme of storefronts.

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I’m dog tired tonight. Weekends make you weak. The only thing keeping me awake right now are three pieces of spearmint gum and the promise of watching Walking Dead later tonight.  I have some neat pictures from my Bristol trip over the weekend which I haven’t edited yet. Bristol left me city-sick. I’ve had enough of small town living. I want to be near a hoping metropolis. It’s a shame Birmingham is such a dull city, otherwise I’d hang out there more.

I just have to come up with an argument good enough to get R to move.  I’m going back to Bristol in April to house sit for a week. I’ll have a good look around and start scouting out some places.

In the meantime here’s a poem I’m working on, it’s called Something New

she had nothing new
to say again today

we sit down
to have dinner

she sits across
from me texting
her mate

i watch the flames
throw empty shadows
across my plate

this is what
passes for romance
between us these days

it wasn’t her i
was kissing

her lips were just
in the right place
a convenient lie
to hide the truth

i need new eyes
a new mouth
a new mind to possess


– soulcruzer