all you can eat (6/August/18)

in the background a piano tricks the air into follow the leader, a Pied Piper of keys unlocking threads of persuasion… rowan berries have reddened too soon, “too soon!” cries the blackbird, “too soon!” begs the moon losing coherence in am omenic wane, will there be anything left come the winter?… the apples are pickable, how did that happen?… somebody ordered a helping of summer only to find it was a neverending ‘all you can eat’ promotion…. wasps confusedly rush to the plums as though their lives depended on it… and it does…… water, water everywhere, or so the myth goes as we drink, drink and be merrily wasting it hitherly-thitherly, wantonly, wistfully by making the most by using the most as though water grows on trees, all those trees, oh the trees being cut down one by ten by hundreds and thousands dragged from their roots in favour of houses built over gardens, levelling woodlands, built over fields, levelling hedgerows, bulldozer, bulldozer awoken again to rape and to beat the land to submission for more of the same and less of the green, fellows are felling, chopping and snedding all for the good of mankind, health and safety and anyway space is a premium and we’ve put a price on its heads and sold it for bricks  to developers waving their pricks comparing that my plot is bigger than yours… the piano is reaching its final accord on a chord that will signal the end as a day in the life of the seep-away light marches unashamed reaping the short-term with spade-loads of gluttony building them cheap and piling them high in a graveyard of those still breathing… “bring out your dead, bring out your dead!” your zombie-eyed seekers claw permanence from ephemera and hope for the best with their fingers and toes…. yesterday was summer, today is autumn, tomorrow we’ll see now won’t we and if there’s nothing much left, “well, we did our best”, or that’s what we’ll tell ourselves picking the skin from our bones……

© 2018 robert greig

rain-rain (28/July/18)

it’s actually a relief… rain… proper rain… not half-hearted apologetic rain but what I could call, bringing to bear all the technical jargon at my disposal, rain-rain… the landscape looks grateful, sighing through the remaining leaves that’ve managed to see it through the previous lack… lest we forget the value of water in favour of blue skies and bikini lines… no doubt some will gripe and moan with the “so that was summer then” as though it was gone in a blink, an awfully long blink if that was the case… what do you call a long blink?… sleep, I suppose… what do you call a longer blink?… death… maybe that’s what I’ll have on my headstone, not dead ‘just blinking’… or half a blink anyway, that’s the thing about blinking, one has to remember the second half of it, the unblink…… I know not everyone wants rain, but then again not everyone engages their brain enough to see the point… oh, to be clueless…… and soulless… do you ever meet people to just come across as just that?… not clueless, there are plenty of those milling about, no, soulless… people who seem to have nothing there, nothing going on, more vacant than stone, who blow through life oblivious to anything outside their own skin… for reasons peculiar I know them as soon as I meet them, first impressions and all, which to me, despite popular opinion, are not just important but inevitable, and on meeting someone anew I just know…. I have no idea how or even why, if it’s a feeling, a smell, electricity, something they say, their eyes, it’s impossible to quantify never mind bottle it and sell it online to the ever-expanding hoards of the gullible…… are people getting more gullible these days?… hard to say as any opinion I have would be loaded in bias anyway, but I do wonder…… the sound of the trees, hedges, grass heads, it slips between words and nestles in the pauses teasing the gaps between letters and indulging in abandon at the end of a sentence when they know it’s their cue to boast and brag and don their finest swishes and swooshes indulging their Aeolian catwalk… it’s the sound of between, the sound of space, that’s why it never stays still…

© 2018 robert greig

appetite for distraction (24/May/18)

tired and frustrated and angry at seeing yet another urban space fall to development, becoming yet another house, more housing, another slab of concrete and glass, not so slowly and surely filling in the gaps between, the space to breath, to move, to grow…. the worst is seeing gardens sold off for this very purpose and then green spaces being commandeered or fraudulently-claimed by local Councils and sold for short-term profits, even so-called brown-field sites, historically industrial to a greater or lesser degree… or perhaps could be called ‘pre-loved’ sites as such with the potential to be loved again and not buried beneath yet more of modernity’s blind avarice…… there’s a growing stolen generation of land happening before our very eyes buried in blockeries instead of rockeries or laid to waste beneath tarmac…… now of course there’s always a case for more housing and even more roads in certain circumstances but in many places there is plenty of housing stock, but for some reason it’s cheaper to buy new than renovate existing, and if you build anew the logic is invariably to pack-em-in, as many to a plot the size of a footprint with living spaces no bigger than matchboxes, rabbit hutches, coffins…… other gardens morphing into tiny runways strangling insignificant beds of uniformed planting that soon grows neglected and replaced with astro-turf, the ‘wondrous no–maintenance garden!’…. because it’s not by any stretch of the imagination a garden nor resembling nature in any shape or form… street trees pruned and butchered within an inch of their trunk for so-called health and safety concerns of “leaves on the road” or, heaven forbid, pollen… despite the fact that trees, shrubs, grass, flowers, even moss, yes the wrongly much-maligned moss is a perfect air-scrubber… they regulate temperature through shade, dappling, their soft non-reflective surfaces of the leaves, bark, stems respiring moisture and cooling, breaking up the wind, providing shelter, prevent or reduce wind-tunnelling and damaging vortices that buildings create which ironically cause their own destruction in storms… plants slow and deflect the fall of rain to the ground reducing flooding and run-off, are home to animals, wildlife, beneficial in themselves… plants feed us in more ways than one, not just spiritually but actual sustenance, growing food isn’t just something to be consigned to ghettoes we lovingly call ‘the countryside’….. most frequently overlooked of all is greenery simply has a feel-good factor often without even knowing why, we gravitate to it to sit and think, ponder, take a moment, destress…… sometimes we should ask what we can do for nature, not what it can do for us…… humans have an innate relationship with the natural environment which is increasingly being side-lined, muted, denied and in some cases forgotten altogether buried beneath outline planning permissions, local plans and developers wallets… the adage ‘use it or lose it’ has never been more important in this regard and ignorance is not bliss at all, it’s a missed opportunity…… it’s not rocket science to know the value of green space even without miring it in balance sheets, natural capital and economic forecasts, and I know this has all been said before, over and over, again and again………

© 2018 robert greig