Monthly Archives: April 2012

Manchester Victoria (Negative): Haiku

Broken city lines Bleed to old Victoria’s Rusting ribcaged heart.

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Sun on Brick

Sun on Brick

Taken at Lyme Park, Cheshire. We were walking and came across this old wall. Something about the layers of stone (history) and the sun on the brick that I liked. Aren’t the best memories, the lasting memories, burnt into the brain with sun? That wall will be there long after I’m gone. Will someone stand where I stood one day, the sun coming out for a moment and lighting the brick with the first hint of summer, and take a picture?

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A Ghost or a Kind Brain?

This is an old photograph of my Great-Uncle, Sam. He was my Gran’s brother. I found it recently whilst sorting through my grandparents’ photographs. My Gran died a few years ago; she was in hospital at the very end after … Continue reading

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His Boots

Last week, I found an old folder in a draw, covered in dust: old bits of writing, half-finished stories, poems, ghosts of ideas from years ago. Most of them were dire, some I will re-structure and mend, develop, others I’ll … Continue reading

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