Life By Committee

Life By Committee first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on Monday 28th February 2011

Everyone has smiles on faces,
All say they are trying to do their best.
A future is decided by committee,
It’s the best choice for one and all.

Did they listen to the one it concerns?
The one sat quietly in the corner.
Observing without taking part,
All voices louder than hers.

Agreements are made, hands are shook.
More smiley faces as names are signed.
Papers pass from folder to folder,
All designed to make life easy.

Who has to live this decision?
Not those signatures, that’s for sure.
She sits quietly, on her own,
They are adults, they know best.

Now the room is quiet again,
She stares at artwork on the wall.
Lost in a time and place of her own,
Accepting her fate, resigned.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Today my tears are for you.

Today my tears are for you. first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on Sunday 27th February 2011

Walking through the estate late in the evening,
The sound of an Ice Cream vans tune
comes echoing over the houses
Shattering the silence.
The Teddy Bears Picnic: Surreal.
The tune reawakens memories of a time lost,
My chest aches at the memories,
Of the fields of tall grass,
As we innocently rolled together,
Flattening long paths,
We held each other close.

Standing in my room, lights out, curtains open.
Street lighting casts long shadows.
The screeching of tyres can be heard in the distance
The estate holds it’s breath
Waiting for the inevitable, metal on metal.
Memories of blood wash through my mind.
We lost you that day,
Yet others walked: Unscathed!
My mind still reels at the loss.
A life lost forever.
Today my tears are for you.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Castle In The Sky

Castle In The Sky first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 21st 2011

You go to where the moon floats high in the sky.
A place where the sun never sets.
The gentle breeze flows through the mind,
like feathers touching skin.
Stirring thoughts of places we never knew,
other than through our minds eye.
Physical boundaries move with the gossamer,
never to inhibit, yet protecting as required.

When thirst visits our bodies,
warm rain falls, gathering in lucid pools
to slake the driest of throats.
Hunger is satisfied by natures bounty,
flourishing in sensual glades.

Thoughts of life filter into my mind,
bringing all humanity into focus.
There is peace within these walls,
turmoil abounds beyond.
The sun beats down, never harshly,
warming the surrounding skin.
One day soon, I hope to join you there,
I know you are waiting whilst I find the path.

©Trevor Litchfield

30 Minutes With Winamp

30 Minutes With Winamp first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 20th 2011

Smoke from my cigarette drifts in the air

Distracting me from the words on the screen

Cold coffee sits at my elbow, or is it tea?

I made it so long ago, anyway it's a mug gone cold

Grateful Dead music soothes my mind

Let It Grow as the word count grows

Blocking out the unwanted noises of life

At least there is something to be happy about

Dregs of a half eaten lunch sit drying on a plate

Can you tell this is not going according to my thoughts?

The music player is on random play

It has over seven thousand tracks to choose from

Now Boris Gardener & The Keys sing melodiously

He's singing about being alone

Does he know something, could he foresee the future

Could he see me sitting here struggling for words to write

Yes I'm all dazed and confused

The music has changed again, Led Zeppelin

I drink the cold tea, it was tea after all

The food looks unappetising, out for the birds I think

The point I'm trying to make is a simple one

I write and write, tapping the keys with two fingers

Index and middle of my right hand

They dance over the keys like demented robotic digits

Hoping that something of value appears on the screen.

Portishead, Cowboys, another prophetic song me thinks

Who am I trying to convince here?

I enjoy writing in this format, I can express myself!

I light yet another cigarette, smoke drifting up

Inhale deeply, exhale slowly

More Grateful Dead

These tracks are short today!

Perhaps it's the time taken to write between tracks!

Throwing Stones, hopefully doing no damage

I have a lot of their music on my hard drive

Most of it owned on CD too

The rest from friends who, like me, love the Dead

Music and writing poetry brings me alive

Makes me feel 'real'

I guess this could go on all day

Songs on Winamp

Lines of words, words moving with the random choice

©Trevor Litchfield

Quiet Sunday Morning

Quiet Sunday Morning first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 19th 2011

Quite Sunday morning, roads clean after an early morning shower.
Steam rises from heating vents as automation comes alive
Resting souls taking extra slumber after their efforts of the week
All is quiet apart from the sounds of nature that is the dawn chorus

All humanity hides behind this tranquil scene, rejuvenating
Smells of bacon being cooked by early morning risers
drift by in the early morning breeze, waking other senses
Vision, smell and hearing taking in all there is to offer

Dog walkers are few but they walk with smiles on faces
Their companions sniffing and snuffling for signs of those ahead
My heart aches to rejoin, to take my place in life once again
A new day takes shape as I eavesdrop on the world, separated.

©Trevor Litchfield

Our New Pet

Our New Pet first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 22 2011

I was out walking this morning, I was walking in an area of woodland that I have never walked through before, it is not far from the river bank that I usually walk along. This time of year the trees are starting to bud and early spring windflowers are breaking through the once frost covered ground. All in all a good time of year to be out there in warm clothing to see how nature has faired over our harsher than usual winter. As you would expect she has faired rather well and everything seems to be coming long in a nice orderly fashion.

Anyway, I’m walking, enjoying the pre-spring morning crispness in the air when I see an odd looking rock near my foot. I gently nudge it, after all it might not be a rock and I don’t want not-rock splattered over my walking boots. Yeah, the rock moves and I’m satisfied that if I want to kick this rock then nothing is going to splatter my boot. Instead of kicking it though I give the rock a closer look. There is something about this rock that makes me decide to definitely not kick it.

More about me and rocks: I collect small coin sized rocks, they have to be flatish,

sort of roundish and no thicker than a coin because I make then into casting runes. I have a big jar full of this type and size of rock plus of course my regular 24 Futhark runes (I know there are 25 runes but I don’t count the blank one although I do have a blank one in my set of home made runes) that I sometimes read. I try to collect my rocks from areas that I think are pretty much undisturbed by man so a lot of my rocks come from the Welsh Mountains, higher stretches of the Peak District and the Lake District and a few, not many at all really, come from the wilder areas we have here in Norfolk.

The rock I discover in the local woodland fits none of my regular rock collecting criteria. To start with it is roundish, about the size of a tennis ball and I discover on picking it up that it is not half as heavy as it should be! It is also a green sort of colour (not moss or any other growth), not your usual colour for rocks so thinking no more about it other than”What a cute little rock, maybe I can find a home for this on my bookshelf”, I put the rock in my coat pocket and carry on with my walk through the woods.

Once home, I do the usual by putting the kettle on, make a pot of tea and relax on the sofa enjoying the feel of my body after a good long walk. After about twenty minutes I think of the rock in my coat pocket, my coat now resting over the back of the chair I slung it over when I came in (I’m a man remember). I then look at my bookcase and there, right on the top shelf I see the perfect place to sit my new found rock. I get up and fish about in my coat pockets eventually finding the new rock.

It feels even odder now, not that it doesn’t look odd enough already, the rock seems to have changed colour and is now a reddish brown colour (this is going to look great on the shelf when the sunlight catches it just right). The rock is also much warmer than I remember and I am also pretty sure that it has got slightly larger. I handle it some more, swapping it from hand to hand, the blooming rock is getting hot now and I’m swapping hands even faster, like you would if you had a really hot potato in your hand!

Then this rock just splits open!

To my amazement a tiny baby dragon crawls onto my hand!

Seems I now have a new pet so I’m in need of some help, does anyone know what dragons eat? Do baby dragons drink milk or is there some fire breathing liquid they need?

©Trevor Litchfield

Our New Pet

Our New Pet first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 22 2011

I was out walking this morning, I was walking in an area of woodland that I have never walked through before, it is not far from the river bank that I usually walk along. This time of year the trees are starting to bud and early spring windflowers are breaking through the once frost covered ground. All in all a good time of year to be out there in warm clothing to see how nature has faired over our harsher than usual winter. As you would expect she has faired rather well and everything seems to be coming long in a nice orderly fashion.

Anyway, I’m walking, enjoying the pre-spring morning crispness in the air when I see an odd looking rock near my foot. I gently nudge it, after all it might not be a rock and I don’t want not-rock splattered over my walking boots. Yeah, the rock moves and I’m satisfied that if I want to kick this rock then nothing is going to splatter my boot. Instead of kicking it though I give the rock a closer look. There is something about this rock that makes me decide to definitely not kick it.

More about me and rocks: I collect small coin sized rocks, they have to be flatish,

sort of roundish and no thicker than a coin because I make then into casting runes. I have a big jar full of this type and size of rock plus of course my regular 24 Futhark runes (I know there are 25 runes but I don’t count the blank one although I do have a blank one in my set of home made runes) that I sometimes read. I try to collect my rocks from areas that I think are pretty much undisturbed by man so a lot of my rocks come from the Welsh Mountains, higher stretches of the Peak District and the Lake District and a few, not many at all really, come from the wilder areas we have here in Norfolk.

The rock I discover in the local woodland fits none of my regular rock collecting criteria. To start with it is roundish, about the size of a tennis ball and I discover on picking it up that it is not half as heavy as it should be! It is also a green sort of colour (not moss or any other growth), not your usual colour for rocks so thinking no more about it other than”What a cute little rock, maybe I can find a home for this on my bookshelf”, I put the rock in my coat pocket and carry on with my walk through the woods.

Once home, I do the usual by putting the kettle on, make a pot of tea and relax on the sofa enjoying the feel of my body after a good long walk. After about twenty minutes I think of the rock in my coat pocket, my coat now resting over the back of the chair I slung it over when I came in (I’m a man remember). I then look at my bookcase and there, right on the top shelf I see the perfect place to sit my new found rock. I get up and fish about in my coat pockets eventually finding the new rock.

It feels even odder now, not that it doesn’t look odd enough already, the rock seems to have changed colour and is now a reddish brown colour (this is going to look great on the shelf when the sunlight catches it just right). The rock is also much warmer than I remember and I am also pretty sure that it has got slightly larger. I handle it some more, swapping it from hand to hand, the blooming rock is getting hot now and I’m swapping hands even faster, like you would if you had a really hot potato in your hand!

Then this rock just splits open!

To my amazement a tiny baby dragon crawls onto my hand!

Seems I now have a new pet so I’m in need of some help, does anyone know what dragons eat? Do baby dragons drink milk or is there some fire breathing liquid they need?

©Trevor Litchfield

How do I express myself when words fail me?

How do I express myself when words fail me? first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 12th 2011

How do I express myself when words fail me?
Life feels like it's passing me by yet days are full,
Friends call to drink tea and talk about their day
Other friends reply in support of my writing.
I should feel fulfilled with such wonderful people in my life

Chores are completed as if by rote, habit.
I read, I write, I attempt to be creative
Yet nothing brings satisfaction or direction.
Desires are dulled as if submerged in deep waters.
In my eyes I fail dismally to attain a life.

In search of this life I consider where I'm failing
Which only brings on more despair, money is the master.
I have no job, I apply for them daily
Two years I've applied yet interviews are rare
Is it my age, my appearance, my demeanour?

Oh I can fill the days with meaningless tasks
In fact I wonder at times where I would find the time
to fit in the hours required to be employed.
Are my days this meaningless or is my thought process awry
I'm asking you dear friend yet answers should come from within.

©Trevor Litchfield