Thursday, 9 December 2010

A Crown for Thorns

From Visual Counterpoint

With the vigour of youth,
And the ignorance of inexperience,
The bramble spread to cover the hedge.

While the sun shone it thrived,
And it grew sharp thorns for defence,
To give itself the edge.

When youth gave way to experience,
So the blackberry was born,
And seed placed with a pledge.

To give everything learned,
To the future and to keep
Doors open with a wedge.

With the colour of life lived,
And the prize of persistence,
The bramble now crowns the hedge.

Saturday, 4 December 2010

Dear Connie

I have restored this blog in answer to Connie's plea.

I have continued writing because quite frankly I cannot stop.
I have not yet decided whether to post my writings

I have also restored two of my other blogs that contain photographs that may give pleasure.

Saturday, 23 October 2010

so sorry but I must delete this blog.
I tried to make another one for my words Here There and Everywhere that had no pictures to accompany them. It was hijacked by morons that seem to delight in causing pain.

I have been forced to delete my new blog.

This one will follow because of the words I was writing.

take care my friends it is a dangerous world

Friday, 22 October 2010

Second Chance

'THE WONDER OF IT ALL' From Here There and Everywhere

Sometimes we see through the eyes of a child,
The wonder of it all,
While past memories call,
My father stands so tall,
I was once a child but I was born wild.

Take a second look and see the world’s lies,
The pity of it all,
While future dreams call,
My father still stands tall,
I was once a child and he hears my cries.

Give a second look of the world around,
The ignorance of it all,
While present demands call,
My father will stand tall,
I was once a child that stood her ground.

Throw a second glance; like a lance,
The shame of it all,
While our children call,
My father always stands tall,
His gift to every child was a chance.

Catch a second chance and know,
The wonder of it all,
While many echoes may call,
The father must stand tall,
So the child may grow.

Tuesday, 19 October 2010

To touch a star

I saw love today, given freely, with a look that I captured with a camera focussed on a dog that I have frequently seen accompanying his owner through the longest hours of the day. These hours surround dawn and dusk.

'I TOUCH A STAR THAT SHINES' From Here There and Everywhere


I will walk beside you with love,
I will walk in your footsteps with pride,
I will walk ahead and clear any danger
That might take me from your side.

I cannot read your writing,
I cannot understand your way,
I cannot speak your words,
I only know; here I shall stay.

With you I always feel safe,
With you I walk o’er the earth,
With you I touch a star that shines,
In my eye for everything it is worth.

Friday, 15 October 2010

Autumn's Song

'AUTUMNAL DAWN' From Here There and Everywhere

I will paint love in the colours of autumn,
So all will remember,
When warmth woke the seed,

I will paint love in the colours of autumn,
So all will remember,
When the sun gave all life’s feed.

I will paint love in the colours of autumn,
So all will conquer,
When the seed sleeps through the night.

I will paint love in the colours of autumn,
So all will remember,
When they dream tonight.


'WHAT DARE HOLD SUCH FIRE ?'From Here There and Everywhere

The wild rose answers,
So all will remember,
Love's fire,
Held in the heart of all seed.

'HIP HIP HURRAH' From Here There and Everywhere

This is autumn’s song,
So all will remember,
In both word and deed.

Saturday, 9 October 2010

'You're going the wrong way, damn it.'

'A HOG IN THE HAND' From Here There and Everywhere

Damn me, not the way; remember
The way given is for innocence to stand,
Like a virgin beach left by the sea,
It is our footprints despoil the sand.

Damn me for the hatred in my heart,
Damn me for thinking all my life,
Damn me for questioning

Damn me not the way; remember
The way is laid by time for all,
Like a ribbon of light thrown by a star,
It is our shadow that throws the pall.

Damn me for selfishness in my soul,
Damn me for thoughtlessness though my life,
Damn me for not questioning

Damn me not the way; remember
The way will be laid for many feet,
A few will make a mark so deep,
That the wages of sin cannot defeat.

Damn me for the pride in myself,
Damn me for the prejudice in my mind,
Damn me for not hearing
The question.

Damn me not the way.

The photograph is one of my five African Hedgehog babies. He has since been named Zorro because he now displays a magnificent chocolate mask.

Friday, 8 October 2010


'PANIC ATTACK' From Here There and Everywhere

I hold two fingers in my ears,
Fight my eyes production of tears,
Hooves play a drum roll on the ground,
Wheels wind their way through the sound,
The air is thick; I cannot breathe,
Raw animal emotions wildly seethe.
Noise drives a coach and four,
Through my mind’s open door.

The debris left cries with one voice,
"We were never given a choice",
The dust rises like an avenging cloud,
Creating an everlasting shroud,
Over the moment that spoke so clear,
And brought a human far too near,
Truth that lives beyond our ken,
And waits for the words ‘And then’.

Let there be light to illuminate ignorance,
Let darkness consume all human arrogance,
Let every thought born to the light,
Join in educating children for the fight,
Against prejudice and pride,
That always seeks the easy ride,
Build a society with the strength of the Earth,
Whose clay gave the crystal scaffold for life’s birth.

Please note this is added after Andy's comment was made.

Ever since I was the recipient of a telephone call from Asha Hadfield (a nurse employed by Warrington NHS) that consisted of only a siren delivered by Cheshire Police I have been unable to filter out the unnecessary sounds from background noise.
I have fought to capture and understand the necessary information among the deafening roar of sheer noise that our society creates.

I publicly name the person who caused my disability for the first time.
I have no idea why she did it or if she had friends in Cheshire Police that aided and abetted her.
I welcome the chance to meet her and Cheshire Police in court if she or they wish to take this matter further.

I would warn Asha Hadfield that I have written evidence of her lies in my medical record.

I now have panic attacks when assaulted by loud noises especially sirens.
This song is the result of many such events.

I understand that the siren down the telephone would not have usually caused this effect but I was already brain damaged by a road traffic accident and suffering from Chronic Migraine with the ‘amplifier’ in my brain turned up to maximum. This was diagnosed after my mind had been finally destroyed by the actions described above.
Yet who in their right mind would send a siren down the telephone to a person asking for help and who would aid and abet such action?

Only Asha Hadfield and Cheshire Police have the answers to those questions.

Wednesday, 6 October 2010

Once Upon a Time

'ONCE UPON A TIME' From Here There and Everywhere

Once I crawled under a new spring sky,
Unthinkingly reaching for my goal,
Only to learn that in finding my feet,
Stability innocence stole.

Once I lay under a summer sky,
I saw in clouds all that I knew,
Including a unicorn that proudly pranced
Through flying fish while sheep formed a queue.

Once I fell under an autumn sky,
With leaves that careered through the air,
Here I breathed life into animals I love,
My heart and soul were laid bare.

Once I stood under a winter sky,
Unable to understand words; I lied,
The child in me sought the only way out,
While the adult secretly cried.

Once upon a time I was born,
Once upon a time I could see,
Once upon a time I tried to learn,
Once upon a time I will be free.

I have tried to communicate in words and pictures but I have failed.

I am a failure.

Thursday, 30 September 2010


From Words speak for Thoughts

"I am not allowed to place a plastic bag over the rubbish,
It might be asphyxiated.
However silently I might wish its demise,
I can only pick up the crap it leaves
On me."

Truly yours,
To defile and desecrate,
The Water of Life.


'A PALER SHADE 'From Words speak for Thoughts

The beat is simple; the music flows,
Here a light is hidden yet shines bright,
Night draws the curtain up on the world,
Stars dance; the moon enters, stage right.

Where is the music to herald the queen?
What bird dares to sing her song?
Silence accompanies heavenly grace,
While the nightingale thrills the throng,

With tales this day paid to the past,
She climbs the scale and dives into the deep,
Then simply asks of one and all,
Do you hear my song or sleep?

A small, insignificant brown bird sings,
The stars answer with light from long ago,
The new moon smiles and greets her song
With reflection from the only star not on show.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Home is the Journey

'JUST WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING? 'From Words speak for Thoughts

Where do you think you are going?

On the journey,
Where my heart tells me I belong.

How do you think you will travel?

On the wings of a song,
Where I belong.

When will you arrive?

I already have.

Friday, 24 September 2010

Questions and Answers

'THE JOURNEY' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

Where is the sigh that should speak for my life,
Where is the wind that should winnow my soul,
Where is the water that should win my heart,
Where is the earth that should carry my weight?

.....On a pale blue dot that flies through space,
.....On a stage that acts out the drama of life,
.....On a river that remains married to the sea,
.....On a journey that echoes the sound of my feet.

'PLACE YOUR FOOTPRINTS OVER MINE' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Here There and Everywhere

'From a Thought' From Notes on the Scale

Here is a moment that cries aloud,
Here I see goodness silenced by greed,
Here I create a single thought,
A child is born to meet every need.

There a moment lasts more than it ought,
There I see goodness suspended in space,
There I create more than a thought,
A child will be born with every grace.

Everywhere a moment lives alone,
Everywhere I see goodness in the crowd,
Everywhere I create from a thought,
A child born to cry out loud.


'A SELFISH WISH' From Notes on the Scale

Dance while the music plays through the night,
The beat asks only that you echo the sound,
By stamping your feet upon the ground,
While the tune is lost in the deafening fight
For reason in such an unreasonable scene,
Here minds are lost before they are found,
Here children’s cries are woven around,
All that is now or has ever been.

Lights circle the victims like vultures waiting,
For the inevitable silence that will follow,
A bitter pill waits in the dark for the morrow,
When the children see the fate they were bating.
Under bright lights that take more than they give,
Young minds are bent to reflect that mood,
Youth replies the only way it knows for more food,
Blind greed in artificial light will live.

Dance to the music but listen to the beat
Of a heart that once played a virtuoso role,
Alone it played and your soul it stole,
So you could thieves forever defeat.
This is a mother’s everlasting gift,
To her child in the face of need,
As the sun wakens the dormant seed,
A simple two-step provides the lift.

'ECHO FROM A STAR' From Notes on the Scale

This song is written as a warning to parents. Loud music can cause deafness.
If you doubt this why do you think workers have to wear ear defenders when they are in charge of machines that do not come near to producing the decibals that your child may dance to.
The children should be protected. Only parents can perform this role adequately.

Do not allow the next generation to become dependent on technology in order to hear the sound of rain falling on the window pane.

The photographs that illustrate this song were taken in Delamere Forest two years ago.
Here children are invited every year to write their wish upon a star that is then tied to the 'Wishing Tree'.
I photographed the two that captured the worst and the best of a child.
These stars both shine, as we must make our way through the darkness.

Starlight is within us all,
The moment of our birth calls to the heavens,
Here is a child.

Saturday, 18 September 2010

Hadean Earth

'SEE WHAT LIIFE HOLDS' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

So sweet the sound surrounded the surface,
So soft the air seeped onto the sphere,
So straight it bent to space-time law,
So silent this age echoes no fear.

No life was here,
No ears to hear,
No eyes to shed a tear,
Only revision reclaims the rear,
And brings silence near.

This was an age that defies our knowledge,
This was a time that we have yet to see,
This was the birth of a virgin planet,
This was the Earth before life came to be.

No life was here,
No ears to hear,
No eyes to shed a tear,
Only time remarks on the rear,
And brings silence near.

So sweet the sound echoes from the surface,
So soft the air rebounds from the sphere,
So straight in law it bends to space-time,
So silent this song is forever dear.


The photograph is of one of my African pigmy hedgehog babies at 10 days old.
His mother ‘Hedges’ and his dad ‘Benson’ are the proud parents of five born 08/09/10
Here I find the reason to write down a song from the past that resonates through time and seeks only the reason to be.

Friday, 17 September 2010

Shadow Play

' SHADOW PLAY' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

When night seems to follow you throughout the day,
Stop, listen and turn around your thought,
For here is much music for the dance,
Here are moonlight pools left to entrance,
Fall into the failure to wake, as you ought,
And in your dreams your heart will always stay.

Play on as shadows lengthen with the day,
Put on the red shoes and dance to death’s call,
For here is such music many have died for,
Here in moonlight many have cried for
Love, to waken a heart dreaming for all,
Shadows pass silently while the open heart lay,

Bleeding for the only truth it always knows,
Locked for the future in the present from the past,
Singing, as the only way to give the key,
From the few that have been to many that will be,
Now is silence irrevocably caste,
And from nothing a symphony grows.

' A SYMPHONY GROWS' From From Visual Counterpoint . com

I do not trust my comprehension of the written word.
Therefore I cannot with any true understanding visit other blogs and comment on them with the ability that I once had and now know I have lost.
I do not expect any comments on my songs that I post since this would seem to depend on my commenting on other blogs.

I have been told that I have a command of the written word. This is incorrect, as I struggle to comprehend words that have not been born from my own thoughts.

Thursday, 16 September 2010

Touch Sensitive

' MORE THAN A DREAM' From Words from Thought

The virtuoso musician plays the music score,
Why do I ask for even more?
Perhaps I hear the composer’s thought,
Before he transposed it on lines that caught
Only one dimension,
Do I hear his dissention,
From the music that is played in his name,
Even though it increases his fame.

No! The best excuse is that he is dead,
The living must seek haven instead,
So they run away from the lies they told,
The river runs from mountains very cold,
In only one direction,
Do I hear a correction,
From the music that is played in his name,
Even though it ruins the game.

Yes! Here is a time all can hear,
Every moment that genius ever held dear,
If only we take the sounds from the best of the best,
And disregard the noise emanating from the rest,
The signpost lives alone,
Within a standing stone,
We are recipients of more than a dream,
When great composers dip their hands into the stream.

Saturday, 11 September 2010

Ground Zero

‘In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.’

From W. Shakespeare. Sonnet 73

The evening light weaves a wandering way,
Around the fading sounds from a dismal day,
Here echoes find a final home,
Among the many that only roam.
Open your ears and listen well,
The silent walls have stories to tell,
Every brick holds a word lost to a lie,
The cement that binds them spells a cry.

Woven in the walls is a will to survive,
Here is music that once set a world alive,
Deafened by sound the children dance,
Under coloured lights that only entrance,
Here is the culmination of numerous lies,
The children seek help and only truth cries,
‘What you see and hear is far from me,
You will be only what you will be.’

The sands of time hold the footprint of one,
That encountered this earth; a job well done,
Here we have seeds of life that were sown,
On a fertile plot and so have grown,
With no help except from nature’s laws,
Life answered the call with teeth and claws,
Selected, our ancestors climbed out of the mire,
To find the rewards life must desire.

Softly, softly the sounds whisper so sweet,
While the wind winds a wreath around your feet,
Step carefully among the flowers so strewn,
Listen acutely for a long lost tune,
Watch the horizon for the slightest sign
Of order in the overall design,
Time cannot allow you to simply stand still,
For you convey the quintessence of self-will.

On this day I offer my friends across the pond these words that I have tried to form around my thoughts.
And this photograph

'TWILIGHT' From Words from Thought

Friday, 10 September 2010

The Edge

I have listened to the voice of reason that would attempt to keep me sane.
This is my song to those that find themselves close to the edge.

I found the reason for living in myself.

'THE EDGE' From Visual Counterpoint

The edge isn’t clear even when near,
The end isn’t known even when shown,
The future is not now it arrives somehow,
The past was lost at unrecoverable cost.

One and one when added together give two,
But take one from the other and nought will ensue.

The edge binds the book that all boundaries forsook,
The end leaves all behind but with much more to find,
The future waits to be seen like a queen,
The past in a closed window lies decorated with dead flies.

One and one when multiplied together make one,
Taking everything from each other and so only one won.

The edge to me is clear and very near,
The end I lost when I failed to count the cost,
The future will open a door to even more,
The past died with the last words that I cried,

‘One is one and all alone and evermore shall be so,
Unless one comes as a pair that both know.'

'WE COME AS A PAIR' From Visual Counterpoint
Sometimes it takes two to become one that then looks beyond itself to create time that will contain space for the future.

Thursday, 2 September 2010


Apparently any member of my website can upload photos!
I have removed the membership option for obvious reasons from my website.
I have been told I can re-instate my macro room but I do not understand how this can be done.

Unless I get instructions as clear as those from 'Veronica' as to how to permanently delete my guest book (apparently just deleting it from my site manager page is insufficient) I will not be able to put the photos back.

This whole episode has made me ill and I will not be renewing my website in 2011.

I am very sorry to have upset anyone over this matter especially James A Brown. Although Webs has still to explain how he changed my name for his as the author of the Macro Room.
I freely admit I was wrong to accuse him of unlawfully uploading his photos to my site although I must admit that the altering of the author of the macro room caused me to become less open- minded to his actions.

I have not written anything worth posting not taken any photos worth showing.

Until I do (if ever) this journal is closed.

Sunday, 29 August 2010

The female spider can eat her mate

I am now receiving emails from Webs announcing new guest book entries from a guest book that I deleted because it was being abused.
Needless to say the entry was moronic.

I am telling everyone this because Webs has perviously forced me to delete my Macro Room because they were unable to remove the name of a Hacker James A Brown Jr c/o as the author of my photographs.
Taher (Webs spokesperson, I have had fun with that name as an anagram! ) said it was impossible to alter the author of an album. It seems that James A Brown knows a lot more about the workings of Webs than the oficial employees.

I now am receiving mail from WEBS regarding a deleted guest book. Deleted because they could not stop the abuse I was receiving. I should have taken the warning and realised they are incapable of stopping the abuse.

I shall be deleting my whole website despite the fact that I have paid up until April 2011 for their 'supreme service' if Taher does not settle this to my complete satisfaction.

Why should I throw away all that money?
I believe that the stress associated with a website mal-administered by WEBS is fast becoming far more expensive.

I will wait 48hrs more (i have waited that already) for a response from Webs.
I will then delete my site and not renew my domain name (pd up until sept 2011)

When I delete those photographs I will be deleting the part of my life that I lived to the fullest.

This journal will probbably not survive the tsunami.

Friday, 27 August 2010

Please note that I have had to remove the Macro Room from my website because James A Brown Jr. (please email at Took it into his (vacant?) head to upload his own photographs to my site that I pay for (I am in discussions with Webs on this point) then ascribe his dubious name to my Macro Room.
I deleted his photographs without looking at them. I had no intention of seeing his ability as far as the camera is concerned.
Webs have told me that the name cannot be deleted from the album so I have deleted the album.
I will think again when the renewal of my site payment comes up.
‘Webs’ doesn’t hold my confidence at the moment.

I now deal with the pathetic mail from James A Brown Jr.

The last title is well earned believe me.

Monday, 23 August 2010

A Rhapsody

The night drew close and the stars screamed for space,
The moon flatly refused to enter the race,
She calmly collected the songs to her love,
Then wrapped them in raptures for the heavens above,
The music was composed by a gypsy’s heart,
For only the homeless could play the part.

The songs were lost to the darkness of space,
The grieving moon turned away her face,
Singing, 'Age will tell so they say,
Why can’t you listen to yesterday today?
Why does it take all that I have to give?
When will you ever learn how to live?'

The gypsy wept for the waning moon,
His violin echoed sounds played too soon,
Nowhere was light to reflect her face,
Nowhere was light to equal her grace,
The wild sounds climbed every musical scale,
And tore asunder a well-worn veil.

Simplicity wins what complexity loses,
The answer will be whatever life chooses.
But throughout our entire worldly domains,
Despite all efforts the question remains,
Why does the gypsy play with strings?
Only gravity knows what that song brings.

The deepest space between the lines,
Lost the way that space-time defines,
Without gravity the song must fly fast and far,
With guidance from only a blue wandering star*,
This picture is mounted by the unknown,
Beyond which the frame for life is shown.

*HE 0437-5439 is one of the fastest stars ever detected fleeing our galaxy at 2.5 million kilometers per hour. Since no star travels that quickly under normal circumstances astronomers believe something 'exotic' must have occurred. The star has been traced back to where it has come from using Hubble by measuring the stars direction of motion in the sky. They point directly to the centre of the Milky Way.
There it had a encounter of the third kind with the massive black hole at the centre of our galaxy.
Once part of a triple system one star was swallowed by the black hole while the other two gained momentum and merged to form a blue star that fled through the galaxy's halo.
Such stars are called blue wanderers or stragglers.

Astronomers hope that despite its enormous speed it may help us to probe for clumps of dark matter in the galaxy's halo whose gravity is affecting the star's motion.

The Arrowhead- a pointed tip

'THE LIGHT OF CREATION' From Let the end try the man

'THE DAWN OF TIME' From Let the end try the man

Bathed in the light of creation,
We stand at the dawn of Time,
Many will follow gaining knowledge,
Few will wear wisdom’s crown.

The spirit of man belongs to the universe,
Born of starlight he must return
That life he was freely given in death,
Curious courage pays the debt.

The arrow will fly straight and true,
While gravity waltzes with light,
We strive to rise above our lowly birth,
Space, on the sidelines, waits.

The arrow will fly alongside us,
Straight and true it stands for every moment,
Yet passes all that we hold dear,
On the journey to encompass truth,

'PASSING ALL WE HOLD DEAR' From Let the end try the man

The arrow will fly without guidance,
Light is dimmed and the simple dance ceases,
The floor is taken by dark energy,
Wisdom enters the stage.

The arrow will fly toward death,
Piercing the heart of the universe,
No music is written for the silenced beat,
Composers always echo life.

The free spirit that led us so far,
Will stand at the end of Time,
With more than the power given to Gods,
And wear eternity’s crown.

Wherever we may find ourselves,
We must have evolved by natural selection
In order to survive the universe’s changes,
And successfully reach the last resting place.

We will see with different eyes
The darkness that always surrounds us,
We will hear silence and envy those
That knew the universe when it was young

'WHEN THE UNIVERSE WAS YOUNG' From Let the end try the man

Drugs Abuse the Innocent

I am a child

I am burning; I am fire,
I am hatred; I am desire,
I am alive; I am dead,
I am nothing; I am all instead.

I am silence; I am noise,
I am playing; but not with toys,

I am a child that wished to learn,
Now I want to die in the fires that burn,

Take a moment to see the child you love here,
Take a moment to hear a cry torn from fear,
Take a moment from your busy life to catch love’s ghost,
Then you take more than a moment from regret’s loud boast.

Or walk away, leaving nought,
Because you never encompassed thought,

Don’t ask me for the answers to your life,
Don’t ask me to solve your strife,

I am only a child.

Candid Camera

Sometimes I will ask you to provide the pictures.
If I do not inspire you to do so with my words then I have failed not you.

Dear Andy,
I have reconsidered everything except my love that will remain for you and all like you.

Thursday, 12 August 2010

Forgive Me

I apologise to all followers for my weakness that finds me incapable of carrying on.

Please know that I send my best wishes to you and yours although I am now unable to write anything that connects my imagination to yours do not stop seeing everything the moment holds and remembering your dreams.

Wednesday, 11 August 2010


This journal is closed until further notice.

I have had more than enough of this life.

If I find anything that even tempts me to rise from the grave I will try to photograph it and write about it.

Until then I leave you with my


Where is the comfort your voice once held?
Where is the guidance your hand once gave?
Where is the mark your feet once made?
Lost in the deepest grave.

Your quiet voice holds everything but lies,
Your open hand guides everything but greed,
Your feet carried me in my naivety
Here, where my heart is left to bleed.

You don’t exist in this tortured world,
Nothing you are is worth anything here,
So don’t try your promises on me again,
I am dead, as you are my dear.

'LOVE' From Visual Counterpoint

Sunday, 8 August 2010

On the Edge

'ON THE EDGE' From Visual Counterpoint

Where is the one I counted first as a child?
Before playing enumerable scales that followed,
I failed but that’s my personal crime,
Education every chance creates,
On the edge of knowledge wisdom awaits.

Where is the one I first knew as an unborn?
Positive and negative fought for a life,
Zero could never be moved by time,
I was born on the edge of a very dark hole,
The negative holds chance as the dices’ role.

Where is the one I found as a child?
It was so easy to find and easier to lose,
Clinging to memory; echoing through time,
I live on the edge of a very dark hole,
The positive holds hope as the dices roll.

Where is the one I counted first and lost?
Retreating from my ignorance and fear,
That spoke in words no lover should hear,
I live on the edge of a very dark hole,
Where is the one whose heart I stole?

Sunday, 1 August 2010

Water Music

WATER MUSIC' From Visual Counterpoint

Water is part of the sky as it creates the sea,
It always remembers the air that set it free,
It holds memories of the dance it led over land,
It is life itself given by an open hand.

A closed fist holds nothing except blind rage,
We raise it like animals caught in a cage,
Threatening our neighbours on this world,
Anthems sounding, national flags unfurled.

Only one small cloud can cover the sun,
Only one bullet is required for the gun
To simply kill or merely maim,
The result of treating life like a game.

Mountains create a bridge between earth and sky,
Here both feel the touch when clouds pass by,
Water is the key that unlocks the chest,
The treasure is found in the hearts of the best.

Water surrounds every continent on earth,
Where now man’s greed betrays his birth,
Why did whale and dolphin return to the sea?
They hear music in water better than you or me.

Friday, 30 July 2010

Lost and Found

'LOST AND FOUND' From Visual Counterpoint

Where is the note that sounds the end?
Where is the end that recalls the sound?
Where is the moment that Time ceases to exist?
Lost in Space.

I only hear the echo,

Through time and space the eternal call,
To bless the born and waken the dead,
Silence will always hold the moment,
Found in Space.

I only hear the echo,

Lost and found.

Sunday, 25 July 2010

Climb Back to the Light

I have always wanted to explore interstellar space in search of something better than mankind, as I cannot believe we are the best intelligent species God can create.

I will never do that so I am doing the next best thing, exploring the vast emptiness my mind inhabits.
In my defence it is readily reached and will always reflect the best I can do.
My thought occasionally gets lost in the darkness but when my imagination sets to work I can find my way through any vacuum.

I do not ask anyone to understand me only that they try to understand themselves.
That, as far as I am concerned, will take every given second and is why I dedicate this song to Andy because sometimes we see the star still shining in the dust that it bequeathed to life.

I stand on two feet yet I stand on many more,
Many climbed out of water to breathe air,
They climbed down from trees to breathe open space,
Many stood of whom I’m not aware.

If I stand my ground how can I fall?
Look! The spreading old oak tree
Grew many roots before a crown,
I have many more feet under me.

I lost my liberty to the darkness on earth,
And look to flowing words to set me free,
There reflected by the blackest scene,
The sky holds a river of light over me,

To climb to the stars is the dream I hold,
Yet I have only learned how to stand,
On a planet that flies through darkest space,
While time marches silently over the land.

The crown I seek is my inheritance,
As I look back in time to the most distant star,
I see the future shining pure light,
From my dust when scattered afar.

For there you and I existed once before,
We were stars that once shone bright,
Stand still while space holds time for us,
And we will both climb back to the light.

The photographs that accompany my song have been placed after the words.
I could not find any photographs to truly compliment the words. This song was written to pictures my mind has taken that no camera can reproduce.

'RIVER OF LIGHT' From Visual Counterpoint


'THE CROWN I SEEK' From Visual Counterpoint


Friday, 23 July 2010

Silence is Golden

'LIKE GOLD' From Visual Counterpoint

The air drifted across her face like the touch of a butterfly,
She opened her eyes and saw the sun gleaming like gold through the trees,
‘Where are you?’ she asked.
The answer had been waiting for the right question at the right time so long that the small girl lying under the old tree did not understand the words when they reached her.
She only heard the wind rustle the leaves and the sound of silence was again lost in the sheer noise that surrounded it.

The child grew up always asking questions but none so fundamental as the one she so quickly forgot she had ever asked.

The only thing audible communication has to positively offer against the sheer negative destruction of silence is music.
All the rest is a lie.

Friday, 16 July 2010

Deleted but not forgotten

I have posted two entries that I have subsequently deleted.
These attracted comments of support from some very caring people that unfortunately have been deleted with the articles.
I am not a courageous person and my first article dealt with the fact that I had turned my back on my responsibilities not only as a Veterinary surgeon but also as a decent human being.
I then realised that my article might adversely affect the public’s faith in the Veterinary profession as a whole. It is far to late for me to report the events to The Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons. This is what I should have done over 25yrs ago.
I would only strongly advise any new Veterinary graduate to purchase a loud whistle when they receive their degree. Then use it if necessary to blow a hole in the fabric of any web of lies they find trying to smother their belief in their vocation.

I can only apologise profusely to those who took time to offer their support. I am not worthy of such friends.

I am not worthy of ever being a veterinary surgeon. I betrayed my vocation when I failed to report the abuse it was given by others.

I asked God to help me in the second article.
I am not worthy of that either but from what I believe of God that will not stop Him.

Thursday, 8 July 2010


I have retrieved some comments from my spam folder on AOL
Why they were sent there when at least one sender is in my ADDRESS BOOK I have no idea.
Is this why people have said they are unable to comment?
I rarely look at my spam folder.
I apologise to anyone who has been unable to comment.
It seems I should look for another provider if I am to stay online.

'IN THE DARK'From From Visual Counterpoint . com

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

I see no earthly reason to continue to post on this journal.
Since I have no ability to write about what I see and cannot even capture the imagination of others when I add my photographs.
This journal will be closed.

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to try to understand my words and appreciated my photographs.

This is the last post for Visual Counterpoint that I can invisage.
But I am blind and deaf.

'ON THE WILD SIDE' From Visual Counterpoint

Take a walk on the wild side, if you dare
To face nature as she fights our ugly world,
With simple beauty’s banner unfurled,
A sword held high for all to share.
'FOR ALL TO SHARE'From Visual Counterpoint

'BENEATH OUR FEET' From Visual Counterpoint

Here the earth sings her flower song,
She plays her music at our feet,
Showers all with ripened wheat,
And calls to us that here we belong.
From Visual Counterpoint

If you are unwilling to walk on the wild side,
Shut your blind eyes and deaf ears,
Wrap and insulate yourself with fears,
You’ll need every one and more beside…
'A SYMPHONY OF LIGHT' From Visual Counterpoint

When the music plays a symphony of light,
Every season will bring the sky to earth,
For the stars above know what she is worth,
And ceaselessly sing through the night.
'FROM THE SKY' From Visual Counterpoint

Then, as in the darkness must surely be
Everything that holds our world in space,
The unknown web is revealed as intricate lace,
Weaving through time completely free.

'WEAVING THROUGH TIME' From Visual Counterpoint

Saturday, 3 July 2010

Natural Climber

'A NATURAL CLIMBER' From Visual Counterpoint

The scent of honeysuckle clings to my memory,
With summer evenings walked down a winding lane,
With hedges too high for a child to see,
My thirst was quenched by the sweetest rain.
'SWEET RAIN' From Visual Counterpoint

The only lights were high above in the sky,
Until one fell to earth and I was told,
To make a wish as it passed by,
I was merely a child but I was bold.
'ILLUSIVE MAGIC' From Visual Counterpoint

I lived my dream through a lifetime of care,
My star carried music from heaven above,
I caught an illusive magic so rare,
And knew I held the meaning of love.
'LINGERING SCENT'From Visual Counterpoint

Now the honeysuckle only brings tears,
As I try to walk between hedge and hell,
Fighting to overcome irrational fears,
A lingering scent climbs with every word I spell.

Last Sunday I badly twisted my knee and damaged my medial ligament severely.
It has given me a very good excuse not to fight the fear of the terrible noise recurring that made me feel so ill when walking on the canal towpath where the wild honeysuckle is flowering.
Today was the first day I was able to take the dogs out and I was glad I was unable to get as far as the honeysuckle.
Although I have in fact managed to walk this part of the canal twice since the incident it has been an unpleasant experience both times. The second time the sound of a narrow boat coming up behind me at the exact same spot made me very dizzy and I almost fainted.
I have been unable to get any photographs this year of the honeysuckle despite the glorious weather; therefore all the accompanying pictures have been taken from last year’s not previously posted here or on my website.
I hope that when I am fit enough to reach the place that caused me so much distress the one bad memory will have faded and all I will think about is the beauty of a natural climber.

Sunday, 20 June 2010


The administrator is well aware that she is incapable of controlling her emotions at the moment and any further entries might cause distress to the very people she has always tried to serve. That does not include her professional colleagues some of whom she is ashamed to recall.

From a destroyed Veterinary Surgeon

Under the influence of alcohol I seek,
The bonds that have tied me to the past,
The stagnant water now flows,
While unknown talent grows,
Let the audience stand up aghast,
At the wreckage of the stage I wreak.

Take a second look at the painted backdrop,
That hangs by one thread and is woven by lies,
Here is the picture you are told to love,
Here is the desecration of the word from above,
A snake climbs the staff held over the cries,
Directing them to pay at the door of the shop.

Where is compassion in professional pride?
When money makes the path that all tread,
And caring is measured by rewards gained,
Have you so soon forgotten how long it rained
To wash away every misplaced bed,
Take a second look at the horse you ride.

It is not a horse
It is not even a unicorn,
It has two horns.
It belongs in Hell with me so,
I recognise you devils, as you parade in your borrowed feathers.

All pictures were destroyed by the enumerable lies that surrounded them.

River Running for Life

"O Soul, be changed into liittle water drops" From Visual Counterpoint

Ref ‘O soul, be changed into little water drops
And fall into the ocean, ne’er to be found:
My God, my God, look not so fierce on me.’

C. Marlowe

Music embraces the echoes of dreams,
I listen and hear the past as it passes
Over my face on gossamer wings,
So silently it sings,
While sand falls within glasses,
Life follows timeless streams.

The river writes the story for the dead,
With rhythms that carry soul,
From every beginning to one just end,
This watery grave must send,
All to pay the final toll,
For innocence blindly led.

No drop of water falls, but will save
The earth from that, which would rise
To create a mountain none can climb
From deepest hell to a sky sublime,
Rain carries from the heavens this prize,
To be offered on every ocean wave.

The slightest sound will be sought,
When the wind becomes merely a breeze,
That rocks the boat on an ordered swell,
Within which the storm must dwell,
Before this ferocious force will seize,
All space above and below nought.

'GROWING INTO THE ROLE' From Visual Counterpoint

'BEAUTY'S BRIDAL BOUQUET' From Visual Counterpoint

I have had a particularly difficult day with sound having been driven from my early morning walk with the dogs by a deafening noise, some kind of siren, (before 9am on a Sunday!) that made me feel totally sick and almost made me fall into the canal.
This has been followed by the usual onslaught of bells and whistles when I tried to shop for the dog’s food and is finished by my neighbour cutting his lawn with the cheapest noisiest mower he could purchase to within a nano centimetre of its’ life.

This day is one like so many now that I shall drown in alcohol. That way I will hopefully not remember it.