Tag Archives: experiment

#GloPoWriMo 2018 15 – Initiative


You do. It is always your choice,
it is, always. Your choice
is not always what you will find again
– aim higher on the next one.

Aim higher on the next one
you do. It is always your choice.
You on.. the path ahead,
when it comes down to it
– not alone, never alone –

is not always what you will find. Again,
be cautious with your actions.
To achieve the goal placed by
be cautious with your actions:
take the first step first
and be ready to, finally
you, do. (It is your choice,
not alone, never alone,
no matter how you walk it,
it is always your choice.)

But have heart in what
to achieve. The goal placed by
stride in time, with rising force:
aim higher, on the next one
aim higher on. The next one
is not always what you will. Find again

the voice telling you how
it is always your choice.


an experiment, caused by #TheZoneCast

BCLT Summer School – Day 1


This year’s edition of the BCLT Summer School includes daily creative writing workshops alongside the usual translation matters. I thought I’d post the results for each day on here. For reasons yet undecided. The first workshop was led by Sarah Bower, and involved comparing how P.G. Wodehouse and Raymond Chandler create their voices (and styles) through different uses of English. Then, we were asked to rewrite an extract from one author in the voice of the other, and vice versa. The results below:

1. His tea was impeccable. The kind of impeccable that stands out. It was too good. The cup too clean. Clean like a polished gun. Jeeves was good at what he did. Very good. Never heard him come in or leave. Quiet like a thought. Jeeves’ timing was perfect, always. I’d open my eyes, and there he was. Holding a perfect cup, every time. A simple job, sure, but he made an art of it.

2. Now, wasn’t that a ghastly surprise. She was shocked, utterly shocked, I could tell. Or rather, Jeeves did. He could spot the damnedest of details, that man, and never show it. Most amazing thing.

‘Right oh, Jeeves, what happened then? Don’t keep one waiting by dilly-dallying, will you?

‘No, sir.’

‘What was the – what was it, dame? – wearing? A dash of rouge perhaps? What about her hair? Dark as a raven on a summer eve, but with a tinge of age?’

‘Decidedly, sir.’

‘Marvellous, marvellous! And I suppose she’d be wearing some sort of jewellery, some type of accessory as one might find, if so inclined, in a London – no, Parisian salon of utmost standards?’

‘Indeed, sir. Earrings and a cigarette holder.’

‘What ho, terrific writing this Chandler chap of yours! Carry on Jeeves, keep reading – and spiffing job of it too, if I may say so.’

‘Thank you, sir.’



our demons
our demons can’t
can’t kill us
our demons
starve the ego
and fly
by night our demons fly
only by night

between two points
(on my watch)
drive it
(on my watch)
drive it like
(take to the night)
drive it like you stole it
take to the night

bad wings can’t
kill us
can’t carry the sun
(I need my memory back)
and we swarm
we starve
we can’t
can’t kill

to the beat
to the heart
control the feed
the heart