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Ex pat musings from deepest France
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Category Archive: Poetry

In The Silo Shadow

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It is the hundredth year of war. Even though the war has been over for a hundred years […]

November 11, 2018 photography, Poetry, Road trip, Uncategorized, war, writing

War Words – Do The Dead Know The War Is Over?

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« Today we are celebrating the 100th anniversary of the end of the First World War » – the words […]

November 11, 2018 Café, Death, deepest france, France, French Village, Heritage, History, Military, Music, photography, Poetry, writing

Autumn Writings – November

Continuing in the series of Autumn scribblings – November – a poem on crossing a bleak land of […]

November 4, 2018 Autumn, canals, countryside, Ghosts, Landscapes, Poetry, TRAVEL, writing

On The Rails

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(Unfinished Journey home) Rolling home through the night from a southern city Rolling past early rising liquid gold […]

October 25, 2018 drifting, Edgelands, France, Home, photography, Poetry, Railways, Uncategorized

RIVERFLOW (The Therapy of Drifting)

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Riverflow The therapy of drifiting. Aimless and pointless driving across a skeletal winter forest On lonely roads down […]

October 25, 2018 Ageing, countryside, drifting, driving, Landscapes, photography, Poetry

I’m Your Best Worst Lost Cause

A poem that speaks for itself. When the young and over-zealous try and change an “oldie” who is […]

October 7, 2018 Ageing, Poetry, Work, writing

FEEDING TIME

A silly poem for kids and adults and kidults. I’ve got a new job,  I’m a keeper, Down […]

October 7, 2018 Poetry

Festive Message

I wrote a few Christmas cards this year and, as usual, with all cards, the “message” inside never […]

December 22, 2017 Christmas, Poetry

Coming Out The Night

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  Coming out the night. Rolilng past early-rising liquid gold sun scapes. Rolling across rising morning mist scape. […]

November 25, 2017 Autumn, drifting, driving, driving home, photography, Poetry, Road trip, Time Travel, TRAVEL

Teenage Moonage or (How a song came to be written)

« I had a teenage dream, On moonage days, I’d be a freak out far out, In a purple haze, Cruising […]

November 19, 2017 Ageing, Art, Culture, drifting, Ghosts, Life, lyrics, Poetry, Rock 'n' Roll, Saturday night, Small town

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  • THE MEMORIES OF A ROCK AND ROLL JOURNALIST
    • Chapter One
    • Chapter Two
  • CHEZ MOI
    • Bourges – My Accidental Place of Exile
    • Slipping into my small town
    • On The Edge of Nowhere
  • MEET THE LOCALS
    • Earning a Crust in Deepest France
    • Meet Mr Beef the Butcher
    • Going Smokeless In the Heart of France
    • Ah, le P’tit Kawa
    • The Man In the Van
    • A Hunting We Will Go
    • Slaughter In St Just
    • Getting Horny
    • Small Town Sex – Meeting Madame Eva
    • Provincial Pleasures
    • The Confessions of Father B
    • Weaving Wedding Dreams
    • Now The Music’s Over …
    • On The Fiddle In Bourges
    • Hats Off to the Hatter
    • Meeting the Goatman
    • Double Johnny
  • ESCAPE
    • Thoughts on Travel Writing
    • Holidays – The Usefulness and Purpose Of
    • We’re All Bloody Tourists
    • Advice on Holidays abroad
    • Packing
    • Brief Thoughts on Hotels
    • Festive Journeys
    • Going Nowhere
    • On The Way To a Funeral
    • London Pleasures
    • The Seventh Circle of Hell
  • FRENCH LESSONS
    • Lesson One – Merde en France
    • Lesson Two – On est dans la merde
    • Lesson Three – Sacré Bleu!
    • Lesson Four – C’est con
    • Lesson Five – Je m’en fous
    • Lesson Six – Mustn’t grumble (Bof)
    • Lesson Seven – Brothels and Bicycles
  • RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE
    • Faith
    • Bible Class
    • Losing My Religion
    • Serial Killer Kid
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