I was out with the family today. We were shopping in Kendal, noted for being 'the town of lost men', a tag that was earned during WW1 when almost all men of age volunteered for war and were sent to the front, never to return.

But that was not on my mind at that moment, as we drove around trying to find a place to park, and I fell into one of my moods. Inexplicably so, as it was a fine day and I was untroubled. But I am often found for no good reason thinking deeply about our tenuous grip on reality, and our place in the universe.

As we scoured the streets I spotted a tall man with his wife, they were window shopping, but what grabbed my attention was his red hat. It made him stand out from the other shoppers as they moved about him. I only saw him for a brief moment then he was gone as we drove past.

I couldn't help but single him out because of that hat, and as the day passed I wondered about him more and more.

How was his life and his health? Was he happy? Did he notice me as we drove past in our blue Civic? I questioned myself later about why I would ponder the life of a complete stranger, and I wondered if I am alone in these observances or do others share my inquisitive nature.

I ended the day and wrote in my diary that today, while out shopping I saw a man in a red hat.

I'm here brewing stormy clouds inside my head.

I'm here holding thunder within my chest.

I'm here shaking the ground under my feet.

I'm here with running streams providing me with immortality.

I'm here with a body bearer of the universe darkness.

I'm here without the big bang spark of love.

DA 2014

Opa once told me, "Time kills the past."

Didn't understand him then,

but I do now:

We children of the future

have allowed our forward-looking minds

to forget those and that

of bygone times

So much so, we now have no conception

of our own history

sadly, which we all see myopically as a mystery

Shame, isn't it?

That such a priceless treasure

exists right under our nose

and could—no, should!—-be giving us such pleasure!

I've heard say that you are never more alive than when death is but a step away, and I can see that. I can see that illuminating light that never burns brighter than a moment before it is extinguished forever.

I have lived it on two occasions and can say that at those exact moments my mind was in turmoil.

First time that heart attack hits, it catches you always when the last thing on your mind is death. You're doing your thing and concentrating on some mundane triviality and suddenly your breathing becomes laboured, your chest tightens, and before you can say what the fuck you're caught up in a boiling vortex that leaves you breathless and struggling to survive.

The other time I was watching TV and eating a sandwich, some food become lodged in my throat and I couldn't breath, everything stopped as my brain struggled to get me breathing again but all I could do was feel the heat, gagging, desperate for air and slowly turning blue. Suddenly, I swallowed the wedge of meat and air flooded into my lungs as Death smiled and walked away. Man, that was beyond intense.

So then I have come close and I know that normality can stop at any time. It's scary. Proper scary.

Any one of us can surrender our lives at any time and be hurled into an eternity of nothing without even being aware of it, and it's that suddenness that sends shudders up my spine.

But should it? I'm assuming that when you are dead, you don't know that you are dead, so is it that different from life?

We go about our day to day business habitually do we not? We set alarms to wake us up, to remind us of things and we attend functions, and parties and go swimming all with a rehearsed normality that precludes the need for thought, thus freeing our brains to remember more important things, like saving money, paying bills or making small talk.

Occasionally we are as I am now, enjoying the last days of my holiday, and jolly nice it is too. But, although we live, how appreciative are we of it? How often do we stop for a moment to savour the fact that we are living, sentient beings? I never do, I'm far too busy catching Pokemon, or shovelling burgers into my face, or babysitting (that's enough babysitting!).

Ask yourselves a question here, what does it feel like to be alive?

Go on, do it. Does it feel good or not so good? I myself cannot answer that because I just....am.

So how can I describe life?

Life is a series of adventures that culminate in Death. Well, yes, I could put it that way and I wouldn't be too far off the mark. But life is different for everybody isn't it?

We are given a chance to experience it, a fleeting opportunity to breathe air and walk on grass, to gather rosebuds. Life is truly a gift.

Dreamy are the streets

where you walk by

Dreamy are the streets

where summer is starting to die

Dreamy is the dusk

when my eyes begin to close

Dreamy are my dreams

where I can see those childhood roads

Where I used to walk all alone

Looking for a smile

Where you used to live

Dreamy are the streets

when the sun fades far away in the horizon.

DA 2014

why you staring at me, tiny monkeys of tangerine

don’t you little people know it’s downright mean?

i’m not much different from you, funny-lookin’ things

maybe by a few base pairs and a six-inch ling-a-ding

so put those black peepers back in your skull

lest i swat you down ’til you’re bloody dull

and make tiny jackets of you for my babe’s dolls

or have your teeny heads adorn my walls

i longed for you, all my flesh

and you were always there, just out of touch

at the margins of my dreams

you floated in and out, in and out

swishing and rustling letters and words and thoughts

fashioning something new from my bruised wishes

alas i have you

but there is little there

once found

forever lost