PedroRockWriter
@PeteWriting
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Following
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Unloving and unloved: A no mark teacher plucking piss poor bass writing blackthorn verse slowly fading without trace. #CAFC
Doha, Qatar
Joined February 2016
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Last Seen Profiles
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The Return of Peter Pan
Please, my Wendy, look not so sad at me.
Take back those outstretched hands,
you’ll weep tears enough to blossom sands;
and they hang so heavy on my heart.
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Angel
Rebox your compass, re-stow steel rule,
fold up your charts, you fucking fool,
for these will never bring you home.
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Grandson spent his pocket money on a diary. Love that boy.
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That’s me that is. A student drew my portrait. I am touched.
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My new granddaughter. A lucky girl to be part of a loving family.
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Pete's Scribblings: Falling Off
And on the third day he flies forwards as the master, a jubilant shout at last, leaves me puffed out and many years down past.
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Oh well. It’s the weekend soon. Maybe I’ll get some writing done.
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On a more positive note:
Can I just say this is the first time 50,000 people have read Angel?
Alas, poor Angel.
Still, why not join them?
No...there isn't time...
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Dark seasons whence all sealed vision’s door
on my dreams, plunged arrows in my hope,
some thunderous incarnate misanthrope
of knitted brows, gritted breath, humourless,
to beat with fists until he shall confess,
would throw down lines that smack only despair,
boot brutish beast.
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I think this special one might have had a very good day today! 😘 Dream well my boy.
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Ooooo. New sign on my door. In case I forget who I am, I suppose.
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Merry Christmas to all my followers and friends. Thank you for your love and support. Angel Rising.
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I knew all this learning to cook would come in handy one day.
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A simple supper. Arabic bread with chilli. And The Kinks.
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Yes, yes, yes:
Sorry, tangled up in poetry. A very happy new year to friends, followers, family. Let's hope next year is better - as The Beatles might say - it can't get no worse.
'Getting better all the time
It can't get no worse.'
Yeah cheers for that, Paul.
Angel Rising
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Pete's Scribblings: The Black Angel
Star gazing: for so far beneath heavens, never any doubts
exist of high risk that draws and draws his eye as Tantalus
was drawn to water in perpetuity, or chained Prometheus
might test his bonds in rage.
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The mum who’s kids I teach gave me a ton of fruit last night including these tiny, potent lines which go very nicely in your morning lemon honey 😍
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Cornwall South Coast from atop Porthleven panning across to Mounts Bay
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Pete's Scribblings: Poundland
Too late to take up smoking now,
my dear drifted friend,
for you flume from chimneys,
steeped in seconds, lost in time,
dark in plumage while I, in anger fume
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Pete's Scribblings: Poundland
Gabriel scopes out to sea, desert imploring
cold spaces sought, wrecked in our tumbling
here askance, vortex-holed and listing aground.
A million palmed grains per pound
in a long dead friend’s ashes found.
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You say it's your Friday? It's my Friday too, yeah.
@PeteWriting
say: Thank You, Y’all!
#FF
@tinseymiller
@vernsanders
@HollowManSeries
@m_ainihi
@SSultrie
@xkzltxez69y18cr
@CindyMcDonald7
@dianneanoble1
@scot_fin
@Author_Grinie
@06_yukimi
@kasaanmedia
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Pete's Scribblings: and all our Angels...
Seize love, hold on to it, don't dismiss it lightly - as Rozalla would say. You'll seldom get another chance.
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Thank you for all the RTs. I am away at the moment in Glastonbury. Tomorrow I will climb the tor and see if I can see the future 😉
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Nice way to kick off the day. Lemon honey, yoghurt, a a couple of strawberries.
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Catch as Catch Can
A simple poem born of simple times and nursery rhymes.
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That's him now on WhatsApp sending me pictures of some mountains in Romania.
Bless.
The South Carpathians. His son has just climbed them.
Yeah? Well my Grandson can ride his bicycle, and we climbed Glastonbury Tor.
No contest.
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Oh, yeah - guess whose birthday today? Only 76, as well.
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About 50 days till Easter Break. Will I get to travel to see my beautiful Grandson? Will Coronavirus get sorted on UK in time? Looking doubtful and I’m going slowly crazy.
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A Song of Hope
Pete's Scribblings: Gravity
and somewhere but faint and out on the rim,
well love’s gravity could still yet bring
that body’s cold spark in.
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There is a green hill far away I’m going to get back there some day.
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The full Qatar this afternoon. I hardly need to cook anymore. The price of success.
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Pete's Scribblings: Conversing The Angel
A Song for Saturday Evenings in 63
I’ll find my own way out, thank you.
Through the exit door.
I will always be a special memory to you:
No more and no less.
I choose no more.
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Men came o repair stuff in apartment just as I was about to exercise. Had to eat my supper while I waited. Don’t want to exercise now. Think I’ll practise guitar.
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Pete's Scribblings: Half of What I say is Meaningless, But I Say it J...
Quick. Use an umbrella,
shield yourself, it’s coming, rushing headlong,
so protect yourself – better safe than sorry.
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Pete's Scribblings: All Tomorrow’s Meetings
Heave breasts, bodies throbbing beg
wanton lips to kiss hair, forehead, neck, thighs,
full feast, bury heads, teasing tongues part legs,
hot tangled Gorgon’s knot, shuddering ride.
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Good grief, this story is writing itself. Another 1000 words today? Pinch me.
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But, Captain, It is said that - should she appear,
will she make idle playthings of all our fears
build hollow temples out of my frozen tears
fashion ice necklaces from our fallen years.
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Garlic.
Today I had to walk all the way to Joaan just to cross Al Sadd Street to buy some. One and a half miles.
Better be worth it that’s all I’m saying.
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The boogie woogie bridge now with added Lennon accoutrements 🥺
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Good morning! Wow! I can't believe you guys! I just hit 231 followers! Let's have a writer's lift to lift some stuff!
Sure...let me just pick up my teeth from the floor.
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Pete's Scribblings: Day After Day
As you slip on a wedding ring
falling forwards, you must model a grin
while thinking mostly of me it’s true,
empty words spill from sky of blue,
pale moon pulls oceans to and fro;
without love, whatever will we do?
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Better exercise I suppose. Don’t really feel like it today to be honest. Maybe just a gentle one.
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Dylan was a beast and made me do A Minor Pentatonics up to 6th position. ‘Count’ he screams.
Well. I think a simple breakfast of dates fruit and hummus.
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Off for a walk in the woods in a bit. Reading my book first. Well trying to.
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It is easier for a camel to enter the eye of a needle…yeeeouch.
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Coming Soon: The 3 Face Angel Returns...
Voyage of The Black Angel
From Hell to Earth
Angel Rising ;)
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Strange. Having farewell drinks with mates. Just realised we are ALL from the UK. that hardly ever happens. In Qatar.
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Pete's Scribblings: It All Makes Sense When You Are Near
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Pete's Scribblings: Rare
So precious a gem, so priceless a metal,
blood red porcelain would not compare,
finest bone china in willow patterned story,
we read it in our drowsy sleep and weep.
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Pound tumbles as scruffy writer consumes red velvet cake. Government urged to steady ship.
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Look at my lovely boy on his first day back to school today. Good luck MiniSuperAddick. I love you tons. 😘😘
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Pete's Scribblings: From Now On
If not, well, no crime
was ever committed,
just get on with the living,
forgiven and forgiving,
the herd is mostly immune,
to any kindness shown:
decisions taken, dues paid,
I’ll turn my unfeeling eye
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New bag. To replace the old Tardis one. How cool is that?
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Neede a break. Apologies.
Now before you criticise it is a HIGHLY danceable track. You just can’t stop your feet. 😂
Yesterday shatter tomorrow don’t matter
Yesterday shatter tomorrow don’t matter 😘😘
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