Without a phone

Without a phone

 

Without a phone first time in long time

Highlights dependence on instant communication

 

Across the globe

My country is now the world at large

Not just my island in the South

Where life is easy and sunny

 

Something about Europe has got into my blood

The languages, culture, the age of things

 

Easy to jet for an hour

And be in another way of seeing

Where language defines the culture

Where geography defines a city’s growth

 

Mountains behind Malaga

Create an ocean-hugging strip city

Where scooters are the chosen travel mode

 

Walls and wars and anarchy

Contribute to an ever-changing Berlin

Built for easy bicycling

 

Motor cars, wine and a dirty river

Make Stuttgart clean and safe

Yet crafty bohemians create dreams

 

In comfy cheap apartments

Beyond the rule of cool

 

 

Random travel jottings

Random travel jottings

 

hard to think about there

while immersed in here

 

English cops with machine guns

texting at the airport food counter

flip flop changes over thirty years

back then Spain had armed Guardia Civil

England had old, friendly and unarmed bobbies

 

London, England, a disappointment

expensive, over-rated, under-resourced

cold, rainy and miserable summer

give me Berlin or Malaga any day

comfort in Euro time and ways

 

mitfahrgelegenheit to Stuttgart

disentangle from car at main station

man walks past with koala on his cap

 

new friends offer couch for two weeks

upstairs five Chinese guys in one flat

must be industrial spies says my Schwabian friend

 

so quiet here at night

like no other town I know

 

out on the tiles dancing to techno

helped by friend of friend with treats

dancing grandpa on tour in Benztown

 

new little sister came into my life

seems like I’ve known for lifetimes

my artistic funny playful playmate

 

stuck in my heart like buttons on a sleeve

a renegade Berliner subverting the motor city

with pen and ink and crayons and paper

 

 

Poetry Car

For a few years, during the late Naughties I guess, I made the doors of my Nissan Micra available to passers by as a place for poetry. I provided a random bunch of magnetic words, some prosaic and some poetic, and put a few together to start the ball rolling.

Funnily enough, apart from a few friends having a go at social gatherings in fields, the public remained uninterested, (or is that disinterested?)

I guess social conservatism and conditioning are wider spread than I thought. Anyway, here are some pictures …

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Counting down in Vancouver


After four and a half months in Europe, and ten days in Toronto, I was almost ready to go home. Caught my breath, rested up with dear friends in a Vancouver high-rise and sightsaw for a week. Then flyaway home.


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The approach of journey’s end

Strange
Being in English speaking world
After months of European tongues
Seems like I belong
But I don’t

Bailed up in a bolthole
Overlooking the blue glass city
Disengaging from the voyage
Preparing for return to the mother ship

Locked in traveller’s limbo
An ever-present suspended Present
Waiting to close the circle
Back home to the starting point

Thoughts and emotions tumble
Flickering through the past

Language and upbringing challenged
As defining factors of a person
Attraction to a culture and its people
Can override ingrained pathways

Sometimes

Until, maybe, lassitude and habit re-form
Turning experiences and immersion
Into fading shadowy dreamscapes

Hope not

The challenge of familiarity
Confronts the homebound traveller
The comfort of complacency
Waiting in the wings

Occupational melancholia threatens
No job no money no love life
Banks and shares in freefall
Bad timing for a voiceover man

Then

Friends assure me of my worth
The value of my creations

If I could live on love alone
A stout fellow I would be

This is powerful comfort