WRITING WRONGS

alone in its distant galaxy
the earth spins on around the sun

the elements wax and wane

nature retreats then reclaims its rightful property

pathetic humans scamper around their termite hills

powerful forces shape destinies

structures integrate disintegrate and reintegrate

barely visible at the margins of it all

life tumbles on for fireseed

the family uproots & rolls down the hill to a new abode

where flora and fauna encroach from every angle

slugs and snails and long grasstails

out there in the big wide world

fireseed stuck in the revolving door of painful employment

manfully he keeps the wolf from his new door

entertains the jography of thought

fireseed signs up for half a marathon

then overdoes the training schedule

pulls a mussel and pulls out

fireseed writes songs and rights wrongs
that must be his destiny it seems
not content with the revolving door
fireseed entertains new projectiles
make-believe
and a radical shift into new paradigms
watching
watching
with his all-seeing i

SNOW

snow
stopping the traffic
grounding the aircraft
muffling the din of the great machine

snow
carpeting hill and dale
blanketing the landscape
purifying the sullied earth

snow
tapping old folks' memories
exasperating commuters
dispatching squealing hordes of little ones home early from school

snow

dusting the lawns and hedges

sprinkling the trees with icing sugar

kissing the windowpanes with icy pecks

snow

delicate and wistful

transient and fragile

beautiful and magical

BETTER THAN SEX

six
a perfect number for mathematicians
digital symmetry - 0110
the kissing number
a most curvaceous glyph
the day god created man
the number of strings on a geetar
the maximum roll of the tumbling dice
a big hit in cricket
extra sensory perception
yours truly's birthday
the woodle's age come the darling buds
put two of em together and you get...
the year ingerland won ye footy worlde cuppe
the year psychedelic rock took pop by storm
revolver
blonde on blonde
pet sounds
fifth dimension
jimi hendrix
put three of em together and you get...
!

CREDIT CRUNCH

the unrepayable loans go unrepaid
vast swathes of capital vanish into thin air
stock markets stall
equities are iniquitous
household names bite the dust
the fourth estate licks its lips
coming in for the kill
editors dine out
reporters circle like vultures
diarists bear their hyena fangs
scriptwriters salivate
a whole new industry is born out of misery

the prospering harbingers of doom and gloom

with their tawdry tales of bailiffs and bail-outs
but the scramble to preserve the status quo is in full swing
the servants of the people are hard at work
placating the pleas for 'business as usual'
they talk earnestly of adverse weather conditions
there is much wringing of hands
then they form a chain-gang
to pour buckets of joe taxpayer's hard-earned dough
down the hungry throats of the 'sing when yer winning' bankers
meanwhile
as if screamed from a giant megaphone
the exhortations to 'spend spend spend' grow louder
an incessant hubbub
a din
an incantation
a mantra
"buy this sofa because it's had 600 squid knocked off it
buy something you didn't want in the first place
and get one free
or how about three for a fiver?"
cheap at half the price

buy now

pay later

free peace sweet

life on the never-never

tomorrow never comes
tomorrow never knows
turn off your mind
relax and float downstream
why worry?
for dorian gray's youthful face never changes

BED-IN

in the deep mid winter
as the watery orange glow fades from the sky
and darkness draws its curtain
the fireseed takes to his bed
laid low by a merciless virus
a ruthless bacillae
that squeezes his fevered brain hard up against his skull
fills his lungs with pleghm
floods his nasal passages with mucus
sets him all a-shiver and a-quiver
sets off his hacking cough
distracts and enfeebles his mind
laptop perched atop lap
he snuggles beneath the thick duvet
seeking warmth and solace
the sofa-bed that is never folded into a sofa
the con-juggle bed that he shares with his wife
and more often than not with his woodle
who stubbornly spurns her own sleeping arrangements
for a more mummified environment
the fireseed is sleepless too
for last night he slept fitfully
tossing and turning
visited by strange and troubling dreams
the next day he was still haunted
by the long emergency

NOVELLA

PROLOGUE

everyone has six slips of paper to write on
we number them
1: best of 2008
2: worst of 2008
3: funniest of 2008
4: something i learnt in 2008
5: person of the year
6: wish for the coming year
we struggle to jot down ideas
mummy rattles them off in no time
grandpa grumbles about the task
like he always does
the independent-minded woodle is determined to do hers sans asistance
i take the longest
even though i was the one who thought up the categories
we fold up the slips
put them in a tin
and take turns to read out a slip
for the others to guess its author
what emerges is a cocktail of the global and the personal
a gulf that seems to separate the boys from the girls
that sheds light on the divergent concerns of me and mrs f
my best of the year: the uk climate bill signed
mrs f's wish for the new year: buy a house
more poignantly
my worst: 'business as usual' -
economic, political, environmental destruction
mrs f's worst: the miscarriage
as it is read out
and woodle asks curious questions
the tears well up in her eyes
i feel a pang of guilt
it hadn't even crossed my mind
but now i am transported back to the hospital
and to the nurse's dreadful words:
your baby's dead...
two of us choose woodle as person of the year
woodly puts learning to read and write for #4
and this game is testament to her achievements
woodle stays energised all the way through till midnight
when she stubbornly refuses to sing auld lang syne
puts her fingers in her ears to smother the fireworks
and goes out like a light on the sofa

NEW YEAR'S DAY

what year is it now hannah?
i dunno
well you were born in 2003
and you're gonna be six this year
so what's 3 and 6?
9
so what year is it now? 2000 and...?
2009
and what month is it?
i dunno
well what's the first month of the year?
may
argghh!

all is quiet on new year's day
we meet hardly a soul
on the foggy streets of birmingham b29
hannah warms up the colourless surroundings
with her pink coat and infectious grin
and warms up a stray worm crossing the pavement
with her curious little fingers
the blades of grass are tipped with frost
graceful silver birches extend their silver fingers skywards
conifers huddle in their warm green overcoats
we head down bryony road and up weoley hill
past some of the biggest poshest houses of the bvt estate
in someone's front garden
hannah is curious about a giant letter 'H' on a yellow post
that's your special post, i say
for emergencies
what kind of emergencies, daddy?
well for example if there's a fire!

TWIN PORTRAIT


happy...


...sad

EPILOGUE

fireseed's new year's resolutions:

1. to get up early to do yoga and blog
(those summer days seem like a distant dream)
2. to look after my elf
3. to make a success of the echo centre
4. to finish the new record by the summer
5. to be happy