Well here we are.

Well here I am. - Blogging like one of those blogger types.
Thought i'd set one up as a lobby for my increased desire to write for the sake of it.
who am I talking to?


I am someone else, I am sure of it.
Not in a previous life kind of way.
but it washes over, ebbing ever cautiously outward.
and polynesian fishermen cast their nets, visual, aural
while two old projector reels play half of my favourite song.
i wasn't there.

Left when you said, - hues of indigo
Gamut plays harp reverb in solace
amongst the hidden pillars.

steam and hum

Distant impulses and interruptions, (Given to you by someone) , stir your slumbering voice which once insisted to arp playfully. Now rots well into it's half life.
Raise to life, the quasi-futurist chorus, float on high timbre feathers of Horus,
friends teeter down the gravity staircase,
emotionless face,
ever turning pinwheels hailed to save the human marathon
kite bow, night knows fever, Hanami under white clouds.

The word Google makes me think of the sound of a death scene, where a man has had his throat cut.