Posted in Chutzpah


Carl was the rarest of species
a genuine,
ideology free non-believer :
a devout atheist,
committed and
didn’t twist or contrive conversation to God
to produce opportunities for contempt and slammers.
Big bang – evolution – civilisation unfolding and folding
human beings creating or screwing up …..
God – no part of it …. that’s what I think – you believe what you want.

Irony, being with him when we came across them –
two parties of cyclists
seeing the northern tip of the country by bike and tent
us – a twosome
them – eight or 10
a Christian church youth group – late teenagers
standing by an upturned bike – puncture – no idea –
absolutely none at all.
Carl fixed it in a jiffy-
“ d’you think you guys should perhaps ….
God will provide – WHAT!!
well, look you came along just we needed help.”



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.