 |
| . . . while waiting for a train. |
Saturday, May 04, 2013
Friday, May 03, 2013
Thursday, May 02, 2013
Wednesday, May 01, 2013
Mayday
 | |
| There's a humming and
buzzing, a droning and whirring in and around Seanhenge*, and a blaze of colours that would fill anyone who has ears to hear, eyes to see and a nose to smell, with joy and happiness. * Thankfully, Seanhenge happens to be not situated in . . . and . . . and . . . and . . . and . . . oh well, you get the picture. I am grateful. |
Monday, April 29, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
The inner clock
 |
| When he'd kissed her goodbye the old woman had smiled: "Enjoy sleeping through, life-whisperer." Leaving the hospital, approaching his car reflecting the past he was. This was going to be the first night since October there would no phone ring at almost exactly 3:00 a.m. He would sleep through. He did not see his inner clock smiling. |
Friday, April 19, 2013
Monday, April 08, 2013
Cold comfort
Instead of a very long and detailed obituary.
Oh well, after all this evil character might by now be re-united with her 'dear friend Augusto' – in hell.
Oh well, after all this evil character might by now be re-united with her 'dear friend Augusto' – in hell.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Thanks for being, Jams
Words of sorrow and solace (from strangers) – however deep from the bottom of one's heart they may come – often, if not mostly, do sound shallow (for those who 'lost' a beloved one).
That is why I do rather wish that soon the moment may come when the memory of this and that episode, of a glance, a touch, a certain little gesture or quirk will conjure a smile on the lips of those who love [sic! present tense] him dearly ... so that they may gain new strength ... for life.
I am glad that amongst many tears I shed during the past week, while re-reading this and that I found myself smiling, chuckling and sometimes even laughing.
'The Poor Mouth' and 'Omnium', both blog names reminiscence of and homage to Flann O'Brien, met in 2007, and since we ... but I don't want to bore you.
To cut it short: Jams – I never called him Shaun – became a friend; intelligent, witty, generous, multi-talented and blessed with an honesty that would let him call a spade a spade whenever he'd feel the wish and the necessity.
I do like thinking of my friend Jams having a pint of plain with Flann O'Brien [and perhaps a second with Father Jack whilst Ted (not Father Ted, obviously) is reciting an episode of 'The Master and Margarita']; discussing with Sergeant Pluck the advantages and disadvantages of becoming a bicycle, whilst feeding Mimi with cheese; taking phantastic photos while strolling around in his new surroundings without feeling any pain in his knees, let alone longing for Garra rufa to nibble skin of his feet; organising a weekly poetry contest the winner of which will be rewarded with a bicycle-esque looking William Topaz McGonagall-statue and ... ah ... oh well ... enjoying his new alltemporaries with what he uses to call drivel, and now and then sending love to his not-wife Shirl, a smile to his Mum and Dad, a twinkle of his eyes to Tim, Li, Elahe and amongst others ... well ... to you and to me.
Today (March 29, 2013), seven days after he died, is Jams's 50th birthday.
All I know is that Jams O'Donnell Esq. will always be part of Omnium.
Thanks for being, Jams. Sláinte .
PS: To give but one example of the fun we often had, follow the link to Rich Poetry at The Poor Mouth's and from there to The Tayside Tragedian on the Bard and 73 comments.
Enjoy!
That is why I do rather wish that soon the moment may come when the memory of this and that episode, of a glance, a touch, a certain little gesture or quirk will conjure a smile on the lips of those who love [sic! present tense] him dearly ... so that they may gain new strength ... for life.
I am glad that amongst many tears I shed during the past week, while re-reading this and that I found myself smiling, chuckling and sometimes even laughing.
'The Poor Mouth' and 'Omnium', both blog names reminiscence of and homage to Flann O'Brien, met in 2007, and since we ... but I don't want to bore you.
To cut it short: Jams – I never called him Shaun – became a friend; intelligent, witty, generous, multi-talented and blessed with an honesty that would let him call a spade a spade whenever he'd feel the wish and the necessity.
I do like thinking of my friend Jams having a pint of plain with Flann O'Brien [and perhaps a second with Father Jack whilst Ted (not Father Ted, obviously) is reciting an episode of 'The Master and Margarita']; discussing with Sergeant Pluck the advantages and disadvantages of becoming a bicycle, whilst feeding Mimi with cheese; taking phantastic photos while strolling around in his new surroundings without feeling any pain in his knees, let alone longing for Garra rufa to nibble skin of his feet; organising a weekly poetry contest the winner of which will be rewarded with a bicycle-esque looking William Topaz McGonagall-statue and ... ah ... oh well ... enjoying his new alltemporaries with what he uses to call drivel, and now and then sending love to his not-wife Shirl, a smile to his Mum and Dad, a twinkle of his eyes to Tim, Li, Elahe and amongst others ... well ... to you and to me.
Today (March 29, 2013), seven days after he died, is Jams's 50th birthday.
All I know is that Jams O'Donnell Esq. will always be part of Omnium.
Thanks for being, Jams. Sláinte .
PS: To give but one example of the fun we often had, follow the link to Rich Poetry at The Poor Mouth's and from there to The Tayside Tragedian on the Bard and 73 comments.
Enjoy!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Metamorphosis in Progress
You have this photo seen before here.
For obvious reasons it is posted again.
Having lots of time for not blogging I do also have a big heap of time for not taking photographs.
I do take the time, though, to let you know that I do seem to be on what you will probably think a 'good' way.
Depanthering will, however, take a while, and I do not wish to irritate anyone's sensibilities.
Which is why ... see above.
What did I learn living in the skin of the panther?
There is nothing I do have to fear!
The most wonderful feeling to feel: Love. – Well, that I knew before.
The sadest 'thing(s)' to do in one's life: not to give your feelings/ your love a chance. – Well, that I knew before.
Pah! And may no one ask how I do 'define' love.
Death is nothing!
The peace of the night!
 |
| Still depanthering. |
For obvious reasons it is posted again.
Having lots of time for not blogging I do also have a big heap of time for not taking photographs.
I do take the time, though, to let you know that I do seem to be on what you will probably think a 'good' way.
Depanthering will, however, take a while, and I do not wish to irritate anyone's sensibilities.
Which is why ... see above.
What did I learn living in the skin of the panther?
There is nothing I do have to fear!
The most wonderful feeling to feel: Love. – Well, that I knew before.
The sadest 'thing(s)' to do in one's life: not to give your feelings/ your love a chance. – Well, that I knew before.
Pah! And may no one ask how I do 'define' love.
Death is nothing!
The peace of the night!
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