Write-Place

Reblogged from April 2010 Not much topical, intellectual or discussable stuff in my mind at the moment (well, not that I can blog about anyway )so here's a piece to keep the blog on a "writing" theme. The title could be substituted for "Empty Brain" if wanted. Empty  Rooms  In the silence of another sleepless night  with shadows from the moon’s pale light  Blues and blacks shine through the window pane Like shadows calling out your name. And did you ever know That though you said that you would go I never thought it would be so. I watch the moonlight in the place where colours once bathed around your face And fragrant flowers are in the air The scent is here though you’re not there. And I wonder if you know That I never thought you’d go But you did and it is so. Morning comes with no regret of  memories I can't forget. Empty rooms and I climb the stairs where clothes lie draped on empty chairs. And I wonder if you knew how I always understood that although y

 So, if you hadn't realised - like me who didn't until I checked the calendar for my dogs grooming appointment - today is an 'extra' day, this being a Leap Year.  One solar year, the amount of time it takes our planet to complete one full rotation about the sun,  takes roughly 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds. That extra five-plus hours  is why we have leap years. Yes, of course I looked it up - my retention of information these days  and memory in general, is poor to say the least. Why this is the case for me is plain, but why people much younger than me also find their memory is not as clear as it once was.  Many reasons for this could be discussed, but that is a topic for a different post. Every four years is not always a Leap Year apparently. According to  the  National Air and Space Agency   (United States), in a calendar yet to come, years divisible by 100 would not follow the four year leap day rule unless they are also divisible by 400 . In the past

Spiral    Linearity does not come naturally. It kills the imagination and nothing happens.  No bell rings, no moment of here and now, no moment saying yes. Without these, where is alive ? I prefer the pleasure of the journey through the spiral. Relax.  If you miss something on the first time around, don't worry. You might pick it up on the second - or third - or tenth ; it doesn't matter. Relax.      Timing is everything. If the bell does ring, it will resonate through all the rungs of your spiral.  If it doesn't it is the wrong spiral - or the wrong time -  or there is no bell.

  The Nakba - the "disaster" or "catastrophe" was the destruction of Palestinian society and homeland in 1948 and the permanent displacement of Palestinian Arabs. The term is used to describe both the events of 1948 and the ongoing occupation of Palestinians in the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip, as well as their displacement in refugee camps throughout the region and beyond. The Nakba was the result of the partition of Mandatory Palestine after World War Two ended as the United Nations and world powers realigned the borders of the Middle East.  The following story is by Neveen Abuelola, my 'step -niece' through marriage. I am reblogging this from when she first wrote it, around 2012 I am Neveen. I am Palestinian. This is my sto­­ry. This is the Palestinian Story. I'd like to take you back to 64 years ago, to the fertile rolling hills of Palestine. To the land of orange, lemon and olive trees, to around mid May1948. My Grandmother, heavily pregnant qu

I have been thinking about the topic of the title I have given to this post for some time, and thought that today being   World Mental Health Day  I thought that I ought to at least attempt to put my thoughts into words and share them. "World Mental Health Day is a day to talk about mental health and show everyone that mental health matters. It's also a day to let people know that it's ok to ask for help, no matter what you're going through. The theme this year highlights 'mental health as a universal human right ' which means working towards good mental health for all."  Apart from some specific times in my life when I felt that I wasn’t quite “me”, I’ve hardly ever been one to think twice about starting up a conversation with a stranger.  The times I refer to when I have not been able to instigate a repartee, have generally been during illness of some sort – which, touch wood, I am relatively free from, as I write.      Whether this is a good thing or n

  He first went there with his school, long ago.  The teachers had told the classes that the stone work was from Roman times; remnants from hundreds of years back.  It turned out that it wasn’t Roman at all.   It was an old mill first used for smelting lead in the late 1600s and then between around 1760 and 1850 fine paper was produced there to wrap the products of the nearby iron and steel industry - often cutlery and probably the pins, needles and wire made in the local area. All that remained today was the pond which had provided power by supplying a water wheel  and some and some ruinous buildings.  Romantic maybe – but not Roman. When they had met years later, he could not wait to take her to this place, high up on the hillside in the depths of the forest with the stream trickling, then rushing down from the tops. Tawny, hazel, mustard and coral tainted leaves and ferns painted the background for the scene. And she had loved it too.