Fishing in the Rivers of Life

Tag: Reflection

  • It’s Only a Number

    Add them together, and it’s seven. In binary, it rhymes quite nicely: double one, double one, zero one. And in Roman numerals, it looks quite regal. Imperial, almost. LXI, short for luxury, I say. So why, when it stares at me from the page, does it look so scary? Happy 61st birthday. Come on, it’s…

  • My Hovercraft Is Full of Eels

    The Eureka Moment I’m sat here dripping wet. It’s not raining. Nor has a pipe burst. No. I’m sat here because I’ve just had a moment of clarity — my Eureka-in-the-bath moment — and in such a hurry to share it, I rushed down to my faithful Mac to start typing before it vanished in…

  • The Kiss

    When I stole the desperate kiss,You stole my heart.Lips sealed,Sealed my fate.I surrendered,As if a virgin,I gave myself to you,As you gave yourself to me. But that was long ago,In the past.It seems some things,They were not built to last. Indeed, you broke my heart,For a while.Life fell apart.Love moved on,As did life.I survived that…

  • Who Are You…

    I can’t remember being youngOr how I got old.I can’t even rememberThose stories I’ve told. Memory loss,Now is such an affliction.How much of my life isJust pure fiction? How can I lie,If I don’t know what’s true?Honestly, mate,Would I lie to you? Yeah, I drink too much,That bit is true.Again, the line:Would I lie to…

  • Too Old to Pogo

    Too old to pogo Just an old git, Limbs currently feeble, No longer fit, For disjointed grooving, To angry alternative, Dance hits. Deaf as a post, With a badback, My childhood has scarpered, It ain’t coming back. Youth was never wasted On this young gun, Fuck me sideways, By Christ, I had fun. Sex and…

  • Who do you think I am?

    Who do you think I am,An old has-been,Whose victories are in the past?I accept my glory days are over,But boy, they were a blast.But I’m not yet ready to surrender,And let you kick me up the ass. You may think I’ve shot my bolt,And ready to blow the gaff,But you must be kidding,Having a giraffe,If…

  • Ode to Chips

    I chose to believe,That when my time comes to leave,And must I depart this earthly realm,Those of us, so torn apart,With broken heartsThat bleed but never did mend,Will find it’s not the end,For nature will make amends,And we will be whole again.

  • An Analogue Heart in a Digital World

    The Strange Process of Aging Ageing is such a strange process — oddly insidious, it creeps up on you. When I hear on the news that something happened forty years ago, for a second, I think of the Blitz. But of course, that was much further back. Forty years ago was the eighties, not the…