So tell me about this distant feeling, distant in what way?
It’s kinda lonely and just distant, what else can I say?
Well tell me what it feels like does it last all day?
It lasts for seconds and eons and never goes away
It’s minutes, hours or at least can feel that way
So what does it feel like, you neglected to say?
It feels like being still in a crowd and colliding with no-one
Like the rumble down the alley and all the skittles, fallen none
Like standing and staring and the whole world is passing by
Like going through the motions and seeming quite normal to the eye
Like invisible, untouchable, numb and detached, distant.
It’s a strange description, difficult to tell for a prescription
It’s a little peculiar, tell me do you feel unwell?
No I don’t feel anything, weak and tired and spent
I might be acting strangely though nothing strange is meant
It isn’t painful, hurtful nor no physical detriment
It’s almost quite alluring a place of disorienting content.
So tell me now what you wish for me to do?
Do you want me to get you tests, take the distant away from you?
Oh no please, leave me be, let me be just who I am
If it’s harming no-one and is harmless, just keen to understand
Am I only the only one who pleasures from this distant as it were?
I needed to speak to someone about it, discuss and confer
I love sometimes this distant takes me to another plane
I can see the world quite clearly, just don’t look at it the same
Walking on cushioned soles turning quickly to a sound
Turning quickly in slow motion, resistance to looking round.
The outside world bombarding, fruitlessly, rapid vision silent sound
I ought to put a sign up when I get to feel this way
This gentleman is busy, I will get back to you some day
Picture courtesy of Staffordshire Sentinel News & Media.
This article from the Sentinel says it all about another published writer at City Voices Creative Writers Group. We believe that Steve is the oldest member of the group (the youngest is 18) and he did not publish his first novel until he was 80. “In search of a name” told the story of a bastard son looking for his father, and was set in the Italian city of Milan. Since then, Sicilian-born Steve has published several more novels including the saga of Don Luigi and his family. It really does show that it is never too late and we wish Steve well with his latest two publications.
Our founder Paul Williamson ran a great workshop on 4th February with a read-around from Dylan Thomas' classic play "Under Milkwood" Everyone joined in with gusto - Neil and Lily were particularly splendid as Mr and Mrs Cherry Owen, and Jason made a brilliant Freudian slip by turning Anne Sailors into Anne Summers! Talking of which - I got the "dubious parts " that is Mrs Dai Bread Two – Dai Bread's second wife, a mysterious and sultry gypsy and Polly Garter – A young mother of many babies who's fathers are "over the hills and far away". Many thanks to Paul who put in a great deal of prep and thought to make it all "sing"