Julian Cason (@hool415) | nitter

Julian Cason @hool415

6h

Hullo #poetry #servicestations #motorway #freeway

I Shall Miss Visiting Our Son In His Uni City

It’s probably the journey most,
as regularly seeing him is banked and safe
but the drive…
outwards in day: usually grey-draped
but still through beckoning skies,
even the rain
is sea thrown on deck:
its own imponderable rhythms
turned to sense
by the organising beat of windscreen wipers;

in a small life,
these days count as adventure.

Yet night is the thing
skies always seem clear, mooned
and divested of weather;
wife by my side,
dog in the back,
as twilight burns away
to its deepest char of motorway black;
and any service-station stop
at ungodly hours,
when over-lit plastic pews
still carry the murmurings
of their curious
out of town evensong.

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Julian Cason @hool415

21h

Hullo #whimsy #poetry #spiders #news

Nothing To Digest

I read that house spiders
can go months and months
stationary
and without eating,
so, a caught fly
must be like a first thought
kick-starting again
their thinking;
the thrashing legs,
suddenly hurled lightning
from what was previously
the most benign
and entirely weatherless skies.
Each day must seem
a repeat,
on a sticky and stringy loop,
of Friday 18th April 1930,
when BBC radio
famously reported:
Good evening…There is no news.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 8

Hullo #poetry #stars #parents #mortality
Apologies, I really will try to leave the stars alone now for a bit!

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 8

Hullo #whimsy #poetry #magic #smallpoemsunday Thank you @TomSnarsky for your own magic!

Non-Brass Rubbing
Our son's entire life since birthday three squeezed inside my iPhone, it's a magic lamp,
working like Harryhausen at his best and if hackers wanted to hurt, they could steal away each of these years, but goons could never reach,
(due to the antique means of preservation used) his now
alas,
slightly yellowing first two.
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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 7

Hullo #poetry #rollerskating #stars #shyness

Eight Unsteady Legs

One January Saturday
about 4:30 pm,
when firmly ensconced inside my house
as an awkward early-teen,
three badly roller-skating girls from my year appeared:
Kim, Natalie and Emma.
They clung to each other like wobbling fawns,
their laughter caught in the porch light
of my own only half-opened door.
I remember that Kim wanted to grasp the constellations,
already blaring loudly
just above the trees,
and from what she said,
Cassiopeia had pushed them all the way to me.
We went outside
to throw guide ropes at the stars,
I didn’t know whether to be serious or funny,
so ended up by being
entirely neither,
floundering within the many vacuums of space.

Girls calling for me
with such astonishing agency.

Julian Cason

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 6

Hullo #poetry #notsleeping #waves (A repost without a typo!)

Tide Times

Suddenly awake at 2am,
on a poke of an island
in the deep black ocean
of sleep;
a shore where driftwood boats of thought
are burnt
or built;
hearing cresting waves which bring in
glassy tomorrows
crash messily
with the tainted ebb
of spat and clinging yesterdays.

At dawn, these non-chronological tides
take their rest,
lost
within day’s brackish lagoon.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 5

Hullo #poetry #trains #work

Train

Between cities,
the yes/no movement of the carriage
replaces a pulse;
other seated people
heard as little more
than your own trapped, repeating thoughts,
and windows,
(if you have a window seat):
allow the idea of a life never slowed
by the rudeness of all
impertinent stations
and the overhead, packed away weariness
of those few
still needed connections
beyond.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 5

Hullo #poetry #stars

Norton’s Star Atlas

Still got Norton’s proper Star Atlas,
the one that whispers to me
on a shelf,
before such things
were flattened to an app,
and imprisoned silently
behind non-reflective screens;
a captain’s map from another age,
dew-sprayed, torch-stained
when a telescope-rudder
plotted brazen routes across the universe
without leaving port,
just behind the house;
icebergs of every colour sighted
through the continual wash
of a shimmer-rinsed
erratic porthole.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 4

Hullo #poetry #clouds #geese

Above

An oval cloud yesterday
was so granular
it looked a murmuration
but one frozen in flight,
or the finest dangled lacy net,
loitering patiently
and while in such thoughts
a red helicopter tried to churn the sky
obviously rushing
to the teaching hospital:
blood spilling all over its sides.

Today a different sight:
eleven geese
low and noisy
only just above the dog walk’s roofs,
as if a stretched-out stag night,
and still inconsiderately
partying.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 2

Hullo #poetry #autumn #fall #maple

Street Corner Heat

There’s a maple this autumn,
that of course
courses blood,
and in any shy tussle with a breeze,
flames
like burnt-off gas
from an oil well,
but seen this morning,
the drill was obviously much deeper
as its roots
have clearly made
direct contact with Hell.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Nov 1

Hullo @TomSnarsky Thanks as always for #smallpoemdunday #whimsy #poetry #moles

Hidden Movement

Each day
is quickly pushed away
like a frenetically-handled hot rosary bead,
and for all the loitering fog of these necklace clouds
our weather, if properly understood, is always
a trembling candlelight,
as all hours,
open or closed,
are dipped in some religion
even if we allow stiffened knees none;
we are blind
with the same amnesia of ever-hopeful moles,
till popping out their mud
into the surprise
of a frivolous and unremembered light.

Maybe a mole’s specialised hands,
when out of sight,
burrow less
but come together
to secretly pray instead.

Julian Cason.

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Julian Cason @hool415

Oct 31

Hullo #poetry #war

Looking Up, Remaining Down

A recent clear evening,
under so many vapour trails,
they looked like scattered Ker-Plunk cocktail sticks,
twilight heating them
a just-spent sparkler hue;
the pregnant jeopardy of the Great Game,
well beyond its full term
and over-needing deafening, global cries.

Now hold 8 spare tins of beans, a few assorted
bottled waters
as government-approved, makeshift umbrellas,
for when this finely balanced mess
as it probably will,
all comes crashing down.

Participating players,
right across the board,
will be zero to very much older.

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Julian Cason retweeted

Anna Chorlton @anna_chorlton

Oct 30

Spooky weekend poem, it feels close to the edge already .
#fragmentsfriday #poetry #poem

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Julian Cason retweeted

Matthew M C Smith @MatthewMCSmith

Oct 30

Maybe life holds more fear than Halloween.

Fate & time.

#fragmentsfriday #poetry #poet #time #fate 🕰️

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mq hovey @MqHovey

Oct 30

Happy Halloween! Here's my tiny #fragmentsfriday for one and all and @MatthewMCSmith

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Gary Legg @GaryLegg12

Oct 30

Here for today this hurts.. Thank you guest judge @hool415 🙂

#fragmentsfriday
@MatthewMCSmith and @blackboughpoems

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Anthony J.P @antJP01

Oct 30

A spooky themed Halloween fragment for #fragmentsfriday @blackboughpoems @MatthewMCSmith and our spooktacular guest host @hool415
‘Pumpkin’ 🎃

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Julian Cason retweeted

Black Bough Poetry / Barddoniaeth Y Gangen Ddu @blackboughpoems

Oct 30

#fragmentsfriday #poetry #amwriting #writingprompt @hool415

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Julian Cason retweeted

Oct 30

Ultra-crazy week 🤪but I've managed to cobble a wee #poem together for the Fabulous #fragmentsfriday !
Thanks to @blackboughpoems and the very very special guest judge @hool415 🙏
Have a Horroriffically Wicked #Halloween, all! 👻
#poetrycommunity #poetry

#Nightmare...

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Matt Stefon @Matt_Stefon

Oct 30

Replying to @hool415 @blackboughpoems

🙏

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