Uncle Trevor

RMS Titanic was a mail ship, hence the letter ‘M’ in its title but never actually delivered any. Now a sanctuary site at the bottom of the Atlantic it lays undisturbed save for the remote possibility of salvaging the mail bags and finally delivering, if legible, those correspondence to some distant ancestor the postcards, bills…

Love Isn’t Always A Single Red Rose

My new bathroom flooring is that of a Roman mosaic and after giving this some serious studying from the comfort and vantage point of my toilet throne, I’ve finally been able to decipher the pattern: One white tile followed by nine grey, a white, seven grey, two white, five grey… Of course all things mass produced…

Home Stretch

With over 22 miles of the journey completed, I stood at the beach with only 4 miles separating us from my imaginary finish line. I was now walking like a cowboy, nursing blisters under my toes and aches behind both knees. I wasn’t sure if the tide was coming in or going out but the…

“Pay No Attention To The Man Behind The Curtain”

🐸 Frog themed shower curtains are drawn around the hydrogen taps with plumbing way outside our tiny understanding that has drenched this sausage shaped universe with half-filled puddles of geometric building blocks and delusions of slime. To look beyond the matted hair inside the mysterious plughole is an inevitable madness that overwhelms scientists as much…

Sunderland Can No Longer Make Ships

Life’s an illusion and I’ll tell you why. There’s a small wall I’d walk upon as a child. It outlines a shop delivery bay at the back of my town. Now crumbling and perhaps soon to be demolished, I’m almost certain local residents barely know or care about its existence. However, I can tell you…

Gloop

Mesmerized by my office toy; an egg timer filled with a viscous liquid. As the air creeps further into the top chamber it predictably welds its droplet tail into a perfect self-contained bubble. As it drifts up, no longer blocking the entrance hole; the feeder chambers small trickle becomes a collapsing unsteady mass of gloop…

Grey Christmas

The day lit sky was so crisp and clear over the weekend I was able to see at least four aeroplanes crossing the mysterious ether leaving behind their vapour trails in various phases of decomposition. Imperfection scarring the beauty of the great blue canvas; questioning ‘Is there nothing mankind cannot spoil?’ A big jam jar…