I’m back, Blog.
And not just me. My computer’s back, and running smoothly once again. HUGE thanks and gratitude to Brenda and her lovely husband Damian.
Well, in brief summary:
- I lost my camera while taking little Lily around Barcelona Zoo. Getting a new one…. sooner or later.
- I’m planning a Road Trip straight after Easter, from Shropshire to Barcelona and back again, with my twin brother. I should be posting some of the photos from it here. Obviously, that’ll be after I get a new camera.
- It’s starting to warm up in Barcelona. I can walk around without a jacket most days. Not today, though – it’s raining, an event that’s now so irregular, it actually affects my behaviour. If this continues, I’ll become truly Spanish and always stay home when it’s raining.
- Stopped my Spanish classes, but still learning it a bit. Started teaching myself Japanese too. Feel my Spanish isn’t good enough, but want to get started on Japanese…. we’ll see how that goes.
- Trying to come up with plans for after Japan, mid-August. Maybe I’ll come back to Barcelona?
- Doing both Improvised Comedy and Stand Up Comedy. Hopefully performing as a warm up act for some professional comedians on the 12th of March.
If you need more details on any of the above, well, you’ll have to email me or something.
I’m trying to get back into the flow of writing again, but it’s proving hard to kickstart myself. One of my eternal problems is self-censorship. If it’s of no standard at all, I don’t think it’s worth writing down. I need to train myself not to press the delete button for now, and to just type type type until I have enough to go back through.
Anyway, enough of that. Here’s a poem I was getting close to content with before my computer crashed… now lovingly restored.
Too Much Poetry
Your mistake is to barely
pause between courses.
From the first nibble you know
it’ll be heavy going,
as rich clotted creams ooze
out of adverbs.
It doesn’t sit well with the
Bishop before – your gut turns
and thickly layered, sweet torture,
but you can’t just leave half.
Where are your manners?
A brief pause then,
to let a stanza settle,
but it demands your further attention.
You slow to finish,
not tasting it all until: ended,
bloated with incongruous images,
your eyes lose focus, their pupils
wallow, bathed in gluttony, as
you descend ingraciously into