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  • My Back Pages

    I came across some prose poetry in one of my old sketch books and thought I needed a place to keep it ... so here I am! Writing, particularly song writing, was a big part of what I did until photography became my passion. It still is, although I want to make a record of other aspects of my creativity, if that doesn't sound too grand!

    This was written in Cornwall in 1987:


    and there you are, pulling down the sun with great big hands

    spitting out your breath with innocence, curling your frame around eternity

    grasping at each soul with hunger, cracking the stones

    spinning a web with each wave, uncontrollable desire

    cutting through the images, making history, creating interest

    sodden downbeat earth, smell of decay and dampness

    shaping the spheres, holes to peep through, lighting each movement

    infernal collapse and delayed change, metamorphosis; so slowly!

    laughing under each well turned stone, characterless and fathomless

    only rising in necessity, all at sea

    all the little things, all those little things

    and then ... driven to a halt.