The city was quiet this time of the morning. The last of the drinkers and the clubbers had made their way home and the rest of the world hadn’t woken up yet. The occasional taxi roared past, breaking the early morning quiet, its lights reflecting on the wet ground as a slow cold December rainContinue reading “Escape Down the Alley”
Tag Archives: writing
The Old Chair
Lying awake in bed before my alarm.Thinking of the day. Got to get up.Got to get going.The floor cold beneath my feet.I sat down at the table.The surface cold to my touch. The old wooden chair — one of the most basic you can buy.Zero percent comfort. I had intended to buy a more comfortable chair — maybe oneContinue reading “The Old Chair”
Home
I’ve got a little Park20W amp.It sits under a tablein the bedroom. I’ve owned it for 30 years,and still some days,when the rain tumbles downand my feet can’t get on the ground,I unwrap the wire,I plug it in. I unspool the guitar leadand plug it into my guitar,full of soul. I turn the volume up,makeContinue reading “Home”
The Guitar
The room silent.Cold.Rain falling on the window I don’t mind the rain.I don’t mind the darknessIt’s the silence that kills meMy guitar by my chair.20 frets6 stringsLifeI’m stumbling down the fretboard. C, B, A minor. My mind spinning and tripping, thoughts rushing The notes dipping down And soaring back up to FAnd GMy spirit followingContinue reading “The Guitar”