MISSING

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I’m missing my beloved so much! She performed so many roles in my life, it feels like I’m missing five loved ones. She was first and foremost my life partner, our souls entwined, we shared a love so deep, so long – lasting, there can never be a replacement. I have to carry on… but how I have no idea.

Secondly, she was my best friend, we talked constantly about everything. The person with whom I shared the minutia of life. Every bit of news or minor event I would pass on to her. She said That I never shut up. She is right. I wanted to share everything with her… so I did!

Thirdly, she was my lover, the best lover in the world. Our bodies connected in a way I cannot describe with words. We inhabited each others minds as well as bodies. We were beautiful together.

Fourthly, She was my life Manager, She taught me the best ways to help my children…

Everything good I did for them, she told me how to do it. She taught me how to be a better person. Now I’m afraid everybody will just have to put up with my shambling advice and muddle-headedness.

Fifthly, She was my accountant, she dealt with everything, so much so, I never had to worry about finances, phone accounts, internet providers, insurance, booking holidays, She did it all. She said that I was an artist, I should concentrate on that. I wish my art was better, and more productive… Oh well, all I can do is my best!

All of these roles, rolled up into one. There will never be another like her. I know that her soul is still with me, and I am asking her advice every five minutes… But it’s not the same. I need her to hold, to cuddle, to kiss, and to adore! What do you when you lose an Angel?

You give thanks that you had her to yourself for eight years! And thank the lord you have carried her in your heart for more than forty years!

My Marie was a blessing to me, all my adult life, she showed what love is and what it could be…

LOVE IS THE ONLY ANSWER.

LIVE IN LOVE MY FRIENDS.

DALE ‘M’

 

P.S. YES THIS FEELING AGAIN!

THE EMPTY CHOKE OF REALISATION…

THERE IS NO RESPITE.

NO  RETURNS.

MORE PICTURES OF MY ANGEL AND A TALE

I left school in May, 1976… It was the long hot summer, it was the summer when I discovered what that thing was all about… For three months I was engaged to a girl called Jane. I had failed 9 o’levels, due to the fact I’d not gone to school much in the last 18 months… I’d discovered how to bunk off shortly after my Brother had died in an accident, and after a while it became easier to not go to school than it was to go… An awkward meeting with the deputy head… In the eleventh hour I capitulated and went back to take my O’levels, but surprisingly to no avail, as even rudimentary schooling requires some attendance. Given that 1976 was a long hot summer, and I had no prospect of qualifications, I found it some what difficult to find a job. I happily took the £7.59 a week dole money, and lived off the hog. Booze, fags and the delights of nervous sexual adventure.  By the time the results came out, and Jane was no more,( leaving the sedentary delights of my amorous endeavours for the better prospects of some guy that was a machinist at Enots) I discovered that the world outside school was not going to welcome me with open arms. I therefore had to come up with a better plan. I persuaded my school to take me back to do resits, and then A’levels.

I had the best of intentions. Then Marie happened.

I used to go home for lunch, as I lived near the school… I was feeling rather miserable a walked back into the school one September lunchtime… I was being berated by parents and teachers alike as I was still not reaching the required standard… I must work harder the familiar refrain shot at me from all sides… To be honest, I had a pretty nihilistic opinion on life and schooling in particular.

Anyway, I walked into the school around the back of the Sports Hall, where all the smokers used to hide out. I was hoping to cadge a fag. Suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks,there before me stood a beautiful tall dark girl, a girl I had never met before. She had been in the school for two years, but I had not, so that’s probably why I had missed her.

She was stood chatting to my mate, Morgan who was looking censoriously at the rogue cigarette, anxious not to be caught in the cross-fire should a teacher suddenly appear.

I smiled at Morgan and said Hi. I looked at the girl and said,

“give us a drag”. She smiled and passed the cigarette, I took two long drags and then went to give it her back, just as Mr.Evans appeared around  the corner. I cupped the cigarette behind my back, but to no avail. I got a clip around the ear, as he said, “If you want to smoke do it off school premises!”

So, taking him at his word, I turned around and began to walk off the premises. The teacher stood there non-plussed, and as I walked out of the gates I heard a voice call from behind me,

“Hey wait up…”

She, the immortal she, the only one, she ran up beside me.

“Where are you going?”

“Fuck this!”, I said, “I don’t know why I fucking bothered coming back, they still just treat you like a kid.”

“You Want to come back to mine? Have a coffee or something?”

“Who are you? I’ve never seen you here before?”

“I’m Marie. Morgan’s told me all about you.”

” Yeah, I’m just the talk of the fucking town… Renegade black sheep!”

We went back to her house, a funny pointy roof house I used to call the Witch’s Cauldron.

We sat and talked all afternoon, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. She introduced me to The Naked Ape by Desmond Morris. She had me read aloud the chapter on Sex. I sat in an armchair, reading aloud from this bloody book, whilst she sat and my feet, stroking my inner thigh… I thought I was in heaven, and that she was some kind of Goddess, the most exotic and beautiful person I had ever met…

And 42 years later she still is!

or was…

God I miss you so much my beloved!

Always yours

Dale

 

 

 

PERPETUAL WINTER

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Will the sun ever shine again?

I don’t see how…

You made the sun gleam with wonder,

You made the world a magical place…

Now all the magic has gone,

And I am left with the nothing…

Empty pages flickering in front of my eyes.

 

I’m emotionally chilled to the bone,

Nothing can warm my half -soul,

But the match of yours.

A half-life in half light,

Always winter and never Christmas.

And yet it is just weeks from your smile,

And your joyful love…

Which I can never share on this plane again.

 

It’s the nights, always the nights,

When the yearning cannot be abated.

I wake and sob every night,

And know it will never stop.

The days can be contained by action,

But the night just drags on forever.

 

first time I’ve been able to look at these blogs since I wrote them, Back when grief was new and all consuming.

Dale

ALMOST

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ALMOST

I’M ALMOST CAPABLE OF ACTING NORMAL…

I CATCH MYSELF WHEN LOOKING

THROUGH MY ALL-SEEING EYE,

OF SEEMING OBLIQUELY STRAIGHT…

SO THAT A CASUAL ON-LOOKER

MIGHT MISTAKE ME FOR A CHANCER,

A GEEZER, A LEERY WIDEBOY,

QUIPPING RISQUE ONE LINERS…

AND THEY MIGHT THEN FORM THE OPINION,

HE’S FULL OF HIMSELF!

 

AND AT LAST THEY MIGHT MISS,

THE ALL PERVADING SLOUGH OF DESPONDENCY,

THE BLACK COWL OF DESPAIR,

THE WASTELAND OF WRETCHEDNESS,

WHICH I HAVE WORN LIKE A TALISMAN,

THESE MANY MONTHS,

IN THE RIPTIDE OF MY VIDUITY.

 

MY BELOVED, THE LOST HALF OF MY SOUL,

WILL CELEBRATE THAT I CAN SMILE,

THAT I CAN JOKE,

WITH THE SAME BLACK CORE…

AND THAT DAYS CAN GO BY…

WITHOUT A VEIL OF TEARS.

 

YESTERDAY,

WHILST I WAS WATCHING FOOTBALL,

AND MY FRIEND SAT IN ANOTHER ROOM,

POINTEDLY UNWATCHING FOOTBALL,

HER MOVEMENTS SOUNDED SO LIKE MARIE…

IT WAS A CHOKER,

MY BRAIN FOOLED WITH THE IDEA,

THAT IT WAS HER!

ALMOST.

 

DALE ‘M’

SHARED VALUES

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(LANDSCAPE AS ABSTRACT EXPRESSIONISM: VIEW FROM THE LAWN THIS MORNING)

SHARED VALUES

 

Sitting outside after tea, looking at the gentle wallow of the tide, as it slowly leaves the bay, I was thinking about my Marie…How much she loved this forgotten part of the welsh coast, and although it makes me feel sad that she is not here to share these moments, I began to think of our shared values. She introduced me to this beautiful spot and knew how much I would love it. It is so quiet and peaceful and literally a tuning fork for contemplation. My thought was, that although she is not here, the values we shared are still innate within me. Our love of landscape, nature and peaceful thought remains in me, and so through this, she remains within me. She was able to inculcate these values which had for a large part been overshadowed by other more pressing needs in my life… like the need to provide for my family, the need to escape the vicious tongue of my ex….

My life had become jaded and jagged, my mind torn into desperate and disparate pieces, in essence, I was overcome by the mores of modern society… But she was able to make me see beyond that and truly appreciate real timeless beauty of place, of thought and of art.

She may no longer occupy this corporeal realm, but those values she inhabited are the essence of her, and they will be with me forever.

God bless you, my beloved.

Thank you for loving me as much as I loved , and love, you.

DALE ‘M’

ZEN AND THE ART OF COARSE FISHING

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SPENT ANOTHER LOVELY DAY ON THE CANAL, AND CAUGHT EIGHT FISH, ALMOST A BIBLICAL EFFORT!

SORRY ABOUT THE PHOTO MY PHONE ONLY TAKES SELFIES NOW, THE OTHER CAMERA STOPPED WORKING. SO ITS ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TO TAKE A PICTURE IN FOCUS AND ON TARGET.

THE BEAUTY OF FISHING, FOR SOMEONE WHO IS STILL STRUGGLING WITH GRIEF, IS THAT YOU HAVE TO CONCENTRATE ON THE FLOAT. THIS LEVEL OF CONCENTRATION, STOPS YOU THINKING, SAME WAY AS PAINTING DOES. IT’S THE THINKING THAT MAKES YOU SAD. IN MY CASE, BECAUSE I CAN ONLY SPEAK FOR MYSELF, I KEEP GOING OVER AND OVER THE ACCIDENT, TRYING TO WORK OUT HOW I COULD STOP IT HAPPENING, SURVIVAL GUILT I SUPPOSE. IF ONLY I’D DONE THIS OR  THAT OR THE OTHER, SHE WOULD STILL BE HERE…

BUT IN THIS REALITY, YOU CANNOT WARP TIME, AND YOU CANNOT BRING THEM BACK, SO ALL THE THINKING IS FATUOUS AT BEST, AND IN TERMS OF YOUR SANITY…

THAT WAY LIES MADNESS!

SO IN ESSENCE, IF YOU ARE IN A STATE OF AWFUL GRIEF, THAT WON’T LEAVE YOU, I SUGGEST YOU DO SOMETHING WHICH FILLS YOUR CONSCIOUS THOUGHT, FISHING OR PAINTING WORKS FOR ME, BUT WHATEVER WORKS FOR YOU… AND THAT WAY YOU CAN SWITCH OFF THE GUILT TRIP FOR A WHILE, AND EVENTUALLY YOU LEARN TO SMILE AGAIN…. HOPEFULLY.

DALE ‘M’

SOBER

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I’VE NOT HAD A DRINK FOR THREE DAYS!

This may seem trivial to many of you, but I have not had a day without drinking since Marie died five months ago. To be fair, I’ve pretty much drank every day for 25 years. For the most part, I didn’t drink to excess, a couple of vodkas a day would suffice… bit since the accident it has become a problem, and after being really ill on monday and tuesday, i decided it was time to stop. So i’ve stopped.

I’ve noticed that sobriety has had an effect on my grief. This is difficult to explain…

When I’ve had a drink, the grief is a tangible emotion, felt completely in the now, it overwhelms me… like being coshed over the head with emotion. Every pore aches with the loss. Sober, the grief is much more cerebral and almost banal… like a slow and intricate torture, because sober, you can attack the grief with intellectual rigour, you can turn the feelings over and over, try to find a path through it.

Whether or not there is a path through these feelings is a moot point. I don’t know. It’s early days yet. I know for a fact the drinking of 2 litres of vodka a week wasn’t helping.

Given that I have a blood disorder, and can only move with the aid of pain killers, due to my spondalitis and stenosis, and have a bad stomach, drinking that much spirits is not going to end well!

So there you are, my little missive, I’m not saying sobriety is much fun, but its what I need at the moment.

Dale ‘m’

FIVE MONTHS

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Five months have passed since my beloved was taken from me, and every day I think…

Any day now, life will become normal… but I never even catch a glimpse of normality. I try desperately to do things which will eventually lead down the road towards coming to terms with the new reality, but Nothing seems to help. I paint. I enjoy the process, I enjoy the finished product but it doesn’t fill the empty void I have inside my soul. I have been through the process before, rebuilt my life before. But I was young. Roads had signposts.

Now I am old and cannot see the signposts… I’m spiritually myopic, and furthermore, I don’t want to go forward, I want to go back to her. I want my soulmate. There! it’s all so simple. I want to turn the clock around, reverse out of this reality. I want a quantum time where this hasn’t happened.

There! Five months gone and I’m no closer to getting a normality. I’m still homesick for my lover, for the palace of us, and not the morgue of me!

Dale ‘M’

EXISTENTIAL POWDER

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AND THE WAKING HOURS,

THE POWDER-LESS WONDER OF SLEEPLESS DREAMS…

WHERE THE HEAD IS BUZZING WITH THE NOTHINGNESS

AND THE OVER-BLOWN GESTURES OF  THE MEANINGFUL,

JUXTAPOSED ABSTRACTION AND INSTRUCTION,

AND WE ARE LIVING,  I SUPPOSE,

IN A WORLD WHERE EVERYBODY HAS READ THE MANUAL,

EXCEPT YOU… AND ME.

I HAD A MANUAL,

I HAD AN INSTRUCTRESS,

SHE, THE IMMORTAL SHE,

READ THE MANUAL…

SHE POINTED TO THE SALIENT,

BUT I WAS BLOWN AWAY BY THE BEAUTY…

I COULD NOT FIND MEANING.

AWE-STRUCK AND AWESOME,

LIKE THE CHILD IN THE CATHEDRAL…

WHERE ADULTS PLAY OUT THE RITUAL,

AND THE CHILD SAYS,

“IS THAT IT?”

ALL IS PLASTIC PORNOGRAPHY

AUTO-EROTIC WITHOUT DIDACTIC INSTRUCTION

IMAGES FLICKER THE 30 FRAMES A SECOND

REALITY, WHICH IS NOT REALITY,

IS THE ABSTRACTION.

STUCK IN THE MUNCH SCREAM…

THE SIREN SOUND OF THE 20TH CENTURY,

OR THE BECKETT ‘NOT I ‘,

WHERE JUST THE LIPS

AND THE SOUND OF THE LIPS MOVING,

IS THE VACUOUS POLEMIC

OF MODERNITY.

 

AND I CAN’T SLEEP, A WEEK OF UNSLEEP,

TAKES IT TOLL,

I LIVE IN THE POINTED POINTILLISM

OF IMAGES LAID SIDE BY SIDE,

AS IF MEANING CAN BE MIXED BY EYE OR EAR,

BY BLURRING THE EDGES,

DISTORTING THE SOUNDS…

BUT EACH UNMIXED LAYER

TAKES ME FURTHER AWAY FROM ANY MEANING.

WHAT IS MEANINGFUL?

LOVE DIED IN A MEANINGLESS WAY…

ON THE WAY TO A MEANINGLESS JOB,

AND THERE IS NO MEANING IN THAT…

SLICED BY THE METAL DISC OF A MUCK SPREADER…

AS SHE SLIPPED EFFORTLESS BENEATH A DARK TRAILER.

THERE. THERE IS A MEANINGFUL IMAGE.

THERE IS A REASON WHY?

WHY I CAN’T SLEEP.

 

IT’S HORROR IS TRIVIAL,

IN A WORLD WHICH IS MONUMENTALLY HORRIFIC…

DAILY.

AND I, THE IMMORTAL I,

STRUGGLE TOWARDS THE AWE,

AND AWAY FROM THE AWE.

AND I STRUGGLE TO FIND BEAUTY AND LOVE,

WITHOUT BILE.

 

AND I PAINT LIKE A BULIMIC,

GORGING ON THE MID-TONES OF GREY,

UNTIL I HAVE TO THROW- UP WITH COLOUR.

DON’T DIE OF BOREDOM.

DIE IN HORROR.

 

DALE ‘M’