I have not been blogging recently. You can't really count the poem I wrote last Monday night, it was not related to cycling in the slightest, just my musings when I couldn't sleep.
A friend remarked that I wasn't blogging because I don't have anything to say. Maybe. Life goes on, we go riding, I commute to work, I work, it doesn't get easier but I am getting FASTER!!!!. And Cav keeps winning. Thank goodness.
I've done a few sportives and some great riding with friends and both at the same time. The Cheddar sportive last weekend was great, as was Friday's trip to Dartmoor to see the Tour of Britain. Another friend made a great observation about my picture, that all the ground weren't looking at Simon Yeats's winning attack, but down the hill for Bradley Wiggins. Media icon.
Still Bradley's back is unbelievably straight and he sure has great cadence. As all the fans would know.
But of course, before we all fall out of love with cycling, disgusted at so many bandwagon jumpers, let's just remember what is important again shall we?
And like a game of chess, I am wandering about my long-term strategy and intermediate tactics. For the blog I mean. Because I actually have quite a lot to say, I'm just not sure you are ready to hear it yet. To show from where I came. But you will be. And it all means something. It can't not.
"He seems to experience a rather strong sense of adequacy about his ability to handle most situations"
Sunday, 22 September 2013
Monday, 16 September 2013
Late night surfing for answers
Late night surfing for answers
Tragedy,
suffering, visible mourning, everyone sees.
The silent,
stealthy pernicious hole appears as if,
From nowhere,
but unfelt unless you have one
Like a
collapsed star in the middle of your heart.
You carry on,
you get better, you even plan
For a changed
future you hope will be different
But on your
birthday, there are no candles and
No-one can
ever bake a cake as nice again
So you stay
up and search for some answers
In the songs
or the music on YouTube
And sometimes
you almost articulate what
Is going on
in that missing bit of you
But the rest
of the world goes blithely on
With its
trains and talking and humdrum days
Whilst you
look out at a sky you can’t share
In the way
that it’s really meant to be
One battled
like mad, fought to the end
The other
welcomed but feared it
And your time,
my time, is coming soon
So watch the
sunset, and feel your heart
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