The Joy Of Tenements.

shepherdgregory

One night I’m just going to bed,everything quiet as usual,when I suddenly hear noises from upstairs:a party,starting now…

I go to bed anyway then wonder why I bothered:people begin to arrive,noisily climbing the stairs,and no sooner do some go up than others come down,stumbling and hollering,three floors,to another all-nighter by the sound of things;it’s to-and-fro 2am till 6 in a stone/metal lobby:I could only slumber with it all going on behind me,causing me to have dreams involving ne’er-do-wells and misfits in London,where I’d moved back to,and loads of unpleasant bunkum like being accosted on the street,Mafia shoot-outs,people with no eyes or teeth,screaming arguments,a young mixed-race woman climbing in my half-open window anytime she wants to rip up bedding(no idea either)and talking gibberish after I move in somewhere,handed a set of keys by other ‘tenants’,and on,and on…

four hours later I’m absolutely shattered looking at my jeans,trying not to go out there.

It finally ends…

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One night I’m just going to bed,everything quiet as usual,when I suddenly hear noises from upstairs:a party,starting now…

I go to bed anyway then wonder why I bothered:people begin to arrive,noisily climbing the stairs,and no sooner do some go up than others come down,stumbling and hollering,three floors,to another all-nighter by the sound of things;it’s to-and-fro 2am till 6 in a stone/metal lobby:I could only slumber with it all going on behind me,causing me to have dreams involving ne’er-do-wells and misfits in London,where I’d moved back to,and loads of unpleasant bunkum like being accosted on the street,Mafia shoot-outs,people with no eyes or teeth,screaming arguments,a young mixed-race woman climbing in my half-open window anytime she wants to rip up bedding(no idea either)and talking gibberish after I move in somewhere,handed a set of keys by other ‘tenants’,and on,and on…

four hours later I’m absolutely shattered looking at my jeans,trying not to go out there.

It finally ends 6:40am with a young woman clattering down in her heels talking way too loud on her phone(who takes calls that early on a Sunday morning?),then manage to sleep till eleven,but am dog-tired and pissed off all day,and,two hours later,listening to someone else and their claptrap[Two Of Them]preceded by me thinking I’d best sit down else I fall down.

So now Red Rum’s finished going up and down the stairs all night we begin another week, and I hope I never have another night like it,indelibly left with memories of being sleepless,

an eyeless and toothless man.

 

 

shepherdgregory

Be the ghost of the facade,

the good and the bad

the ugly and the sad

with the certainty of suffering

in our empty rooms

in white

 

all night… 

View original post

Be the ghost of the facade,

the good and the bad

the ugly and the sad

with the certainty of suffering

in our empty rooms

in white

 

all night… 

shepherdgregory

[June 27th.]

[Tweetdeck.]

[Home]

I’m Watching the World slip by,concertina-like columns start,stutter,stop before me;notice a lot of Arabic,bit like my Gmail account the Fateful Day Of The Followback Which Blew The Bloody Doors Off~and I have umpteen photography masters to choose from.I doubt I’ve even checked 10% some month or so later,and already I’m astounded:Orange Sun,colossal picture of Mexico City from a chopper, two quaint butterflies sat on a reed possibly the greatest butterfly shot I ever saw,and now it’s a map.Something out the Arabian Knights?Ancient Arabia?Oil Wells?Nothing of the sort:Twitter Map Of World Activity~just taken.

He looks Kuwaiti,and he’s Michaelangelo in White,far as I’m concerned~

The World,flat,dark, countries delineated in neon-blue,and white flashes indicating presence/strength of activity.

You can’t see Britain

nor Spain,

the East of America far more switched-on,Australia surprisingly little,but time differences extremely pertinent.

Right now.

I’M part of the light~I’m on bloody Tweetdeck! 

I’ve already sent it to a…

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[June 27th.]

[Tweetdeck.]

[Home]

I’m Watching the World slip by,concertina-like columns start,stutter,stop before me;notice a lot of Arabic,bit like my Gmail account the Fateful Day Of The Followback Which Blew The Bloody Doors Off~and I have umpteen photography masters to choose from.I doubt I’ve even checked 10% some month or so later,and already I’m astounded:Orange Sun,colossal picture of Mexico City from a chopper, two quaint butterflies sat on a reed possibly the greatest butterfly shot I ever saw,and now it’s a map.Something out the Arabian Knights?Ancient Arabia?Oil Wells?Nothing of the sort:Twitter Map Of World Activity~just taken.

He looks Kuwaiti,and he’s Michaelangelo in White,far as I’m concerned~

The World,flat,dark, countries delineated in neon-blue,and white flashes indicating presence/strength of activity.

You can’t see Britain

nor Spain,

the East of America far more switched-on,Australia surprisingly little,but time differences extremely pertinent.

Right now.

I’M part of the light~I’m on bloody Tweetdeck! 

I’ve already sent it to a few of the best sites Facebook/Twitter:everybody raves about it,and,like the others(a mere few mentioned,around 90% STILL TO CHECK~and they’ve ALWAYS got one even two staggering images),I may be the ONLY Westerner digging around.

And that’s what a poet does.

Be it looking in a gap in a fence setting in store the events of ‘The Intruder’,or not bothering everything’s in Arabic,and just finding the links as usual,you get in there,and you will find.

I’m sometimes reminded this side of my Twitter experience of Electric Light Orchestra’s,’Discovery’,where the Arab Boy comes upon the returned ELO Mothership spanning the previous two records[‘A New World Record’,IMMENSE,’Out Of The Blue’,IMMENSER]and this.He makes a run for it,to no avail,but I don’t have scimitar-wielding  Saracens after my skin,just amazing photographers in Jordan and Kuwait Following me(must be…200?180 to check?),and I suddenly realise circa the time’Discovery’comes out[1979],I used to regularly watch
‘Picture Box’ in school,an educationally-bent documentary meant to show nippers the World outside working-class Thatcher-reigning Scotland.

Now I have my own.

I’ve long attested they’re National Geographic-levels in quality and content,and very few things are~they walk it.

Like I say EVERY site has a Gallery,and EVERY SINGLE ONE does NOT have you drawing a blank,always huge range to choose from,but it’s the exclusivity I have,quite possibly the only Westerner to discover them:

1.

Select particular Followback(where people are waiting for someone to play host to a number of people via their Mail account;limitless amount).

2.

Ignore misgivings,and not only not delete them~Gmail was literally in Arabic!~but investigate like a good poet.

3.

Bother to check Gallery section first time unknowing what lies in store thereby no incentive.

Get in there.

Bingo.

I love Twitter…

Nota Bene 

I realise as I’m finishing the Boy on the cover is holding the Ship the same way you hold the album cover to look at the beautiful artwork/photography,for me,always the greatest of covers~keep dreaming.

It’s a good life.

@ShepherdGregory,NO trolls.

See you around.

[Edinburgh GMT 09:24 Sunday,quiet Light.]

 

 

(a kid in a candy store!)

[1976]

[Aberdeen]

A Bengal Tiger

leaps through a hoop of flame

in the Lost World of Aberdeen;

no barrier,no balustrade between us

and the beast,but the animal is trained,

responsive,and we gasp near an esplanade:

you can smell the sea,feel your heart beat.

We sit in the sand agog.

**Part2toFollow,spinnin plates,let me know if you’re reading,friends**

Got History

(Hogmanay,Edinburgh,20_ )

She looks at him wonderingly but distantly,like she doesn’t particularly care about him,
just curious as to his reaction.He is jubilant,she is unimpressed.He starts talking to
mates who lead him down the street quicker and further on a brae.She lets him go,
watching him recede into the semi-distance.But he leaves them,going back to her.

‘Come this way.’

She is trusting.

We head up an alley,folded cardboard and filth diligently avoided,part and parcel of
Cityliving–I waste no time,ushering her into a doorway with a de facto pedestal.For the
sake of five minutes she is a goddess,and I will fucking worship her,the height issue
resolved(such a wee lass),and we’re ready–I rip open her blouse,and suck on her tits.

She gasps quietly,but does not resist–I’m just gettin’ started…I wrestle with her trouser
button,she assists,saliva glistening on her pert nipples.I roll her jeans down just far
enough–I am pulsating,so much blood going to my cock it aches.I don’t know how long
I  can go without coming,and I don’t want to get her preggers,but I’m fit to burst here,and
just want to–I slam into her,she gulps,doe-eyed,and I take it slow,make it sensual…

she moans,eyes closed,as I keep a furtive eye for the police:don’t want first night of ’13
to be live-on-stage-from-the-slammer,cock out my trousers,shouting and threatening
coppers.Got history.