Welcome from Simon ! 👋

I have to say (with careful words) How alone I feel. It started when I was six years old. And doesn't seem inclined to go. As try as I may it stays with me. Throughout my years of twists and turns. I'd like to slip to allegory. But thoughts, they should be clean and pure. Friends, they make me forget myself. That's good, but I, I still exist Lovers, they make me effervesce. Remember F? And how she left? Cynicism disappeared, can you see her eye? Don't forget, keep clinging on. You're not alone Until You Think. Don't Think Do What I Do. A Battle it is, with each side armed. Can you reconcile this logic with love. I think you can, it just depends Which one started first. Simon Huggins, 13th October 1991

What have you got to say to me. My boy, My man, My sweet, sweet freckled child. Don't stand there with an open gape Answer me And I will understand. You say that you are lonely now My boy, my man, my sweet, caring lovely child. I know these things, they go away. You'll make some friends Who'll help you fill your mind And Time. They'll help you find a pigeon-hole And you'll be write as rain. You crease my brow with anger now My boy My Man My son, who will not understand. You're not alone, there's love around. Beneath the tattered shells. And Find it there you will. Just look at me and at your Dad. For love, for life. For Tattered Shells. A worrying thought indeed. My money gone: A sighing signal of relief. - Simon Huggins, 13th October 1991

It must be dark, the black is coloured. Just look at that fuzzy air. The telly spews a final boom Of light, not dark; But now it's dark. Did I see my toes in the final blow? Did I see little piggy Mister, And My armpit tickle. The room is hot with tubes and me Night-time viewing -- five solid hours. I laughed, no tears ran down my face. I lavished my attention to no avail. But now the radicals, they dance and sing. No tune or rhythm, but just as right. The voices they come as my mind it quiets. My mind it quiets as it sees them come. They echo and ramble, all jabbering things. Some shout for attention. But none, it seems None have anything that really needs said. But SIMON! Wake Up! We're here for You! Listen Listen! -- You Heard Me Today -- You could hear me tomorrow And in pops a funny face -- You heard me yesterday And then it comes, in leaps and bounds Not a rabid face I know 'I'll see you next year!' A threat, it is. He shits me up. I avoid that sort of silence now. And especially, I avoid ambience. Simon Huggins, 13th October 1991

The branches and leaves They twist the wind to hushed swirl tire And many a forest animal a fire their shrill trill. [But they only endow the silence with an unworried entropy.] *Wake up to early morning breakfast cereal digestion Eyes skitting the time Unworried, unwary? But the taste is forgotten In quandries potential and lost. Until the 8 starts juices flowing And Head, a Bustle-Fuddling TIME.* The pages slip away, away... *Across torrential darkness* Through a void of weariness *Whipping up a taste for nervousness* Erosion to a lovely apathy. Distilled to a turgid clay-mess. Will it all fall away The rude mould made? Simon Huggins, 27th September 1991

I met the Queen, I did Whilst walking down the street There was a crowd of people; Standing tiptoed on their feet. They waved their flags of blue And red and white and grey, They waved their hands towards her They waved them in the day. I met the Queen, I did As a path cleared in the crowd No feet did trample mine that day As if my name, it was endowed With some divine purpose Or a crossroads in my life I met the Queen, I did And so then did my wife. As the ropes and police did bite my clothes And dogs, they barked and howled And people, they did laugh and scream Full of future promise of now. As the figure it did make its way With a trail of roses and of wreaths A thousand heads did stretch that day So that they could tell all back home. And they could tell their children's friends. And she did come with leisurely grace And she did stop before me The cameras flashed, the cameras rolled And she did take my carrier bag And she did stretch across the ropes And she did smile with regal lace And I did lean in knowing bliss And me and the queen, we kissed. That was the day I met the Queen And found she was a human being. - Simon Huggins, 5th May 1991

I Like Travel. Buses; nose down, flit your eyes Don't acknowledge the others. Shutters. I like Travel. Trains; back arched, thank the table. And the scenery usually excuses. Polaroids. I Like Travel. Aeroplanes; button broke, thank the cram You can relax, so shut your eyes Shutters. I Like Travel. Rickety Coaches; Suspension keeping you busy. Aren't they insistent? And if you're alone You're no longer a tourist. Windows, like spectacles. You've not moved, because. You're still in the same boots. It blinds, don't worry. It'll pass. Simon Huggins, 1991

Out of calm comes chaos. Inspect a calm day, if you will: A light breeze, a feather rolling from your fingers: "Pray, why do you roll, dear feather?" "Oh, because of the wind." And you sit confused, for there is no wind. Inspect a day of winds, if you will: A feather is whipped from your fingers: "You are cruelly taken, dear feather!" "But no; I am slowing down!" And you sit confused, for there is no feather. Inspect your own pondering mind, if you will: A thought is whipped to your attention: "From where did you come, dear thought?" "Why do you ask? Have you not seen the feather?" And you sit confused, for you have not. But: Out of chaos comes calm. Simon Huggins, 28th February 1990

“Joseph, why do you just sit there under that tree, staring all day?” Joseph stirred from his reverie. His eyelashes fluttered a little as his eyes slowly refocused and his pupils became returned to the sun’s warming gaze once more. He smiled, and chewed at the bottom of his lip thoughtfully. “Guess!” It was Rebecca’s turn to chew at her lip this time. She was quick with her newly learned powers of reason, though. ...

Sand Dunes I found myself in a basin of scorching ferocity. As sudden as a fall in the sea, the heat swept through my body like a drug gone terribly wrong. I tripped, and looked down to see what in this expansiveness, could be tormenting me with such a darkened sense of humour. Bit it had scuttled away to nether regions, leaving only a small reversed sand-timer to trickle into itself. I watched each grain tumble over identical neighbours slowly, ponderously, until all had settled to unerring stability, and I moved on, towards the blinding light. ...

As I stepped off the bus, I noticed a strange odour in the air; a nitrous sort of smell, with a tinge of lemon. Perhaps a recent thunderstorm had unleashed a volley of lightning bolts upon the very pavement I was standing on but a short time earlier. Of course, there was not rain, and there was no perceptible damage, and although the air was light and seemed to carry one by the armpits, there was no sign of bad weather. Indeed, the skies were blue, and only a faint milky trace of cloud tainted the purity of colour. ...