The sky is blue and unbroken,

And watches as our day unfolds,

The songs we sing are softly spoken,

Our backs begin to turn to gold.

Carefully, we find our seating,

And settle in your friendly stones,

Your swell advancing and retreating,

Accepts the pebbles we have thrown.

Silently, we start to listen,

To sounds of waves that slush ( Read more... )

Taken from the feature article in The Times.

It's been a year in the making, but Whitby have finally released their much anticipated third studio album. And boy, was it worth the wait. Some critics had suggested that, after two record-breaking albums of such magnitute, the wheels might have come off the Whitby train and that the engine had run out ( Read more... )

You made no big bang or sudden splash to

Introduce yourself: but that’s what I prefer.

A subtle blend of sweet sincerity

And a shy, certain kind of innocence

Already has me caught, ‘til finally

I feel myself beginning to let go.

I smile lightly: it’s taken long enough.

Although upon reflection, the past and

Present bear a similarity more
( Read more... )

My converse damp and leather soaked,

I breathe heavily from running.

The people all around me cloaked,

Before the storm that’s always coming.

The seating offers little warmth,

Despite the heater dead below,

The grotty patterned fabric’s worn,

Disgruntled clockwork’s all on show.

It must’ve been around the place,

And wandered all the dusty ( Read more... )

         God is tired and rests
         Ex 31:17

God is never tired and never rests
         Is 40:28

The Screen ( Read more... )

So I realised I haven't posted anything on here for an absolute age, and wondered what I should put up. I couldn't really think of anything, and I can't really be bothered to write anything new or profound. However. I'm going to a fancy dress party tonight, and I'm dressing up as the one and only Indiana Jones. In light of this, then, I've decided ( Read more... )

And while the room sits deathly still,
The string that holds the bulb does sway,
And darkness has to wait until
The ghostly light’s faded away.

If only sunlight could break through,
But windowless the room remains,
There’s no one left to answer to:
Only the walls who don’t complain.

The corners are disguised in black;
The spaces that the light can’t reach,
( Read more... )

Dirty Sheets

Another step along the soggy path
That runs among the clueless and the old,
A suitcase, packed, that wasn’t built to last
Is full of useless facts that I’ve been told.
I rest my eyes, but there’s nothing worse than
Having nightmares in the city of dreams,
Hiding behind ideologies that
Fade amongst skylines: were they ever clean?

I don’t ( Read more... )

We love you Cesc!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/player/sol/newsid_7090000/newsid_7098600/7098605.stm?bw=bb&mp=wm&news=1