William Cook

* Lucille sat smoking on the step in the sun. She took a drag and continued to dream through the fresh blue smoke. The sun burning brightly in the summer sky. The blue back porch peeling in the heat – the timber creaking under her young dreams and aspirations. Flipping the cap on her steel lighter, tapping her feet on the top step to a silent beat. The sun good and warm on her young thin skin – white t-shirt loose flapping languidly in the warm afternoon breeze – bare feet breathing, feeling the worn grain of the wooden step – blue jeans beat and holy with worn wounds torn in knees and backside. The flame, as if from her fingers, dancing in the whispering air – white spots pop around the flame. Lucille tired of her imagination, yawned and tugged her sneakers on. The sun now dying in the distance, floundering behind the dusky silhouette of the suburban horizon. Her black parka and red baseball cap – protection against the coming night. Dogs began to bark in hungry expectation – their ma...

He turned on his black polished heel, raised his well dressed right arm – the light dancing off his polished cuff link – repositioned his curved left arm a little higher on the delicate back of his true love, then slowly waltzed from the centre of the light into the shadows. Over her shoulder he watched the light, drunk with love & wine, he could not contain the rogue tears that tumbled from his tired eyes. The smell of her perfume engulfed his senses. The silk touch of her soft skin on his cheek. The feel & smell of her fine hair against the tip of his nose, as they spun slowly in between the light & the dark. The empty chairs & tables in the hall resounded with applause; confetti fell like snow upon their twisting slow sonata . . . The adagio waned – began to fade – the click of a door echoed through the music & the lingering mumble of departing guests – the light flickered, swelled, then was full & bright again as it should be. The confetti was gone, the...

a piece of news in platitudes hybrid hyper media seconded to a lesser kind of life a soft intelligence far from cut up rearranged reconstituted just opaque shamelessly profane this is a lesser kind of layer cake more a multilevel glass box fixed together with the filaments of yesterday & the lifeblood of tomorrow’s dreams.

Hey everyone, I just realised I was starting to post a lot more photographs and art than I meant to on this blog which is supposed to be dedicated to my writing. So, I have just put the finishing touches on a new blog devoted to showcasing my artistic works. You can find it here . I hope you enjoy my work and if you like it please subscribe and share the link. Cheers.

You eclipse me & I have stained the Sun with black love . . . death from a bottle cools my ardour for a while, until I see you again. The damp distance is bleached then blackened with shadows & flocks of shrill birds, screaming for blood Bound hands grow swollen body – silently numbed a bed on fire I laid upon now reddened with burning life In these blistered hours of insomnia objects are like lead I believe they are other things & less than they are as if fewer of them would create a stillness like sleep — if only to dream of her again The cushions beckon in the mirror white & summoning, judicious the bed reflected in that fantasy land, that round pool of hope Why stir dust on a sacred tomb as I lay down with a prayer for darkness a snowflake melts on her virgin eyelids somewhere & now, together again we drink every breath of poisoned air she asleep, I awake . . . Not believing in resurrection — I stroll through cemeteries looking for her name, not wanting to see i...

Went to the Wellington Zoo the other day (true story this time) with bubz and another newage dad and his two offspring. A beautiful day kicked off with a Velluto coffee from the café of the same name. The Zoo was busy as usual with ominous groups of school children lurking at the side entrance, set to invade. Pushing on (we had prams) we picked up the pace for a quick walk to the top - the kids seemed to like the Ostrich, any kind of monkey, the sun bears and the Giraffe. I was surprised by the proximity of the new Giraffe enclosure as you can basically touch the creatures when they poke their inquisitive heads up to the manuka fence for a nosy. Hopefully this does not prove an issue re. human/animal contact issues later on. Anyway, managed to snap some pics as you can see - unfortunately none of the lion but some reasonable shots of the lioness. Maybe next week will bring some fresh pics and some more good weather.

Recreation of Actual Events on a smaller scale somewhere else! Wellington Zoo. For the last few years there have been continuing issues with people climbing over the Zoo fence after hours. The local council and Zoo officials have remedied the problem by installing a 7000-volt electrical fence around the perimeter. Despite the new measures, resounding screams have been heard late at night as frugal zoo patrons still try to access the Zoo’s attractions nocturnally. Local residents have reported the screams that usually occur between the hours of midnight and 2am Friday thru Sunday. The human screams usually precede a raucous cacophony of baboon, chimpanzee and various angry animal noises. Accident and Emergency Staff at the nearby Hospital have treated ten patients so far this year for electrical burns. Charge Nurse, Gina Jaja said that many of the injurious were superficial although they have had a few that were quite serious. One in particular, where a drunken teenage male managed to s...

One of the 'Little Bastards' The Newtown Council Apartments Building, Block B Wellington, Newtown. Possums that climb drainpipes at the council flats in Newtown have long been a problem for the residents and more importantly the landlords. Now a possible solution has been found by one of the tenants who live on the thirteenth floor of Apartment block B. Noticing that the drainpipe was made from a conductive material, Arnold B Wingthrop, a retired electrical contractor, unscrewed a lamp from its electrical cord and attached the flex with duct-tape to the drainpipe fixture outside his window. Within days a pile of scorched possums lay stacked at the base of the drainpipe. Local stray dogs have been disposing of the barbequed rodents but there have been a few incidents where some animals have touched the downpipe and fried as a result. Mr Wingthrop stated, “the little bastards got what they des...

Watched David Lynch's 'Inland Empire' last night. Blew my mind with its brilliance. Very subjective viewing but amazingly surreal - like a broken dream, a barbituate stumbling night out not knowing where you're going or where you've been. Least of all - thought provoking. Highly recommended. Check out this site for more details.

For those of you who like David Lynch films, and especially those of you who don't, have a look at his art and this very cool website [takes a tiny moment to load as high-res images etc].

I I remember how it all began, as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was a fine morning, crisp & cold, but full of sun. I woke up to the sound of angels playing music in my ears. I can’t be sure of their instruments, although they made the most beautiful sounds I had ever heard. I couldn’t see, my bedroom was filled with a blinding white light, the only sense I had was one of sound. I lay motionless in my bed, the waves of crystal light & symphony pervading my every pore. I was a blank canvas as the sounds began to shape the very fabric of my being. Through the lucid choir of nothingness came a word & with it followed another: ‘Rise’, it whispered, as if a breeze. ‘Rise up & face the day for your life has ceased. Your new life is just beginning . . .’ I awoke again, yet unsure of if I had ever been asleep. It is cold tonight. The streets are quiet for once, that ‘feeling’ is not there, for the moment. Everything is so still & pristine. My breath fogs in front of ...

Hi I realise that 'Blogging' is as much self-serving as it is for public entertainment. In light of this truth I have to ask the question: "Is anybody reading this blog?" So that is my question, is there anyone reading this blog and if so would you like me to continue posting items of interest? Obviously, this stuff takes time to produce, edit, post etc. The growing realisation that blogging (in my own opinion) is a probable waste of time has led me to ask this question to find out if it's worth carrying on. Anyway, there you have it - should I stay or should I go? Also, feedback on the blog etc would be appreciated. Best wishes Will

david bowie said:       “god is an american” nietzsche said       “god is dead” madame blavatsky said       “there is no religion,         higher than truth” i say:       “truth & religion         are non-compatible” by the way, this is not a political poem or a religious poem my views (contd.):         a poem is an expression of interest       potentially, entertaining       possibly, thought provoking       usually, annoying       seldom enjoyable       always didactic       drivel – essentially but this poem is not meant to tell you what a poem is or isn’t or what you should think   this is just  some words on a page po...