To relive just one day,

Just one cycle of

Twenty-four hours.

What would you choose?

Would it be a magical day?

A day when you made love

And it was like the first time?

Or maybe it was the first time.

A day of pride validictory?

A culmination of all your hard work?

A day in gown and cap?

Aglow with that dayglow pride.

A day of unbounded joy?

When your child was born?

Perfect in miniature,

Cherished from inception?

A miraculous wonder.

And all of these would be fine,

Days to hang in a line

But in your heart you know…

There is only one day.

The day your brother died,

And you fought just before…

And all was lost when

There came that knock on the door.

Yet that day has been surpassed,

For another day arose,

The day you were lost

Crushed by an errant tractor.

If I could just change that day,

None of this reality would exist,

The butterfly of my life,

Pinned by fate’s verisimilitude.

Copyright Dale Beck 2021



You caught me sobbing,

Deep heaving, heart tugging

Sobs from the solar plexus!

Soul draining tears…

“For a dog on the t.v.?”

You asked incredulously,

“The dog… yes the dog…

but no not just the dog…

The girl tugged at her hair…

Just like you used to

When you were a girl…

The girl you were before…

Before the interminable wait,

before the thirty three years went missing,

And… And I could hold you then

as I hold you now…

I sob for what I missed,

A yearning nostalgia

For the ages in between!”

Copyright Dale Beck 2018


There was a time when lace was the greatest of treasures in old England, the theft of which was warranting death by hanging or at least transportation for a seven year stretch. Similarly, the was a time when tulip bulbs were worth their weight in gold or more in old Amsterdam. Fortunes were made and lost on the purchase of a single bulb.

These vagaries of mercantile currency are always a shock when the fashion turns and they are rendered worthless… who remembers those who lost their fortunes when over exposed by the South Sea Bubble?

What’s my point?

Since the end of the 2nd world war, we have been sold a pup. A vision of an unending prosperous future. Where money was an inalienable feature of our world. It would always be there, safe as houses, money in the bank. This is a fallacy, we have already tasted the failure of banking in 2008… pensions were lost, bank credits disappeared…

It was a salutary lesson that no-one took serious. I’m here to report that the real crash is only just coming into focus. Already each and every Government are mortgaging our futures as recklessly as the sub-prime mortgage vendors. Staving off the future because today is when we need it… We have built a castle out of sand and the tide is coming in.

Where does this take us? I don’t know. I don’t believe being a survivalist is the way, a room full of victuals will only last so long and then what?

The truth is capitalism has died. The wealth has become so tightly enmeshed with just a few corporations that the checks and balances so widely proselytized by the right have ceased to have any significance. The promise of market forces no longer have any validity. If the few have all the keys to production, to cost and price due to them operating a cabal without balance, there is no so-called check or balance. What we have is fascism.

How do we escape this state?

Well here in England it is not going to be through political measures, the labour party has been usurped once more by the knighted hypocrisy of the middle classes.

We need a new language of discursive society. The party model is not fit for purpose. We need individuals who want to see a more equitable society. We need to realise that shiny consumerism is killing our planet. Let’s change that. Let’s make things that last, no in-built obsolescence… This is the crux. In-built obsolescence is the very essence of Capitalism. These are essential to create excess value. Excess value is where the CEO’s and shareholders make their profit.

We have lost sight of why we should work. We should be creating a community where everyone has enough for their needs, and creating goods which only lead to this goal. Not goods which create an excess value which can be skimmed by the few.

This is a warning. I’m not the future, I’m the past, I’m the left-wing radical whose lost is faith… But you can take these crumbs and follow the route back into the sunlight.





Solo soy hermosa en tus ojos,
Sacas lo feo de mi psique
Tu gracia me da un sentido de pureza
Un sentido de la piedad eterna
Que existe más allá de la comprensión.
Mis únicos momentos felices son todos tuyos
Nunca puede haber otro porque
Llenas mi corazón hasta el borde amado
Mi alma está salvada por tu proximidad ...
Entonces esto es fe, entonces esto es creer
Mi mundo comienza y se centra en tus ojos
No hay fin porque ahora somos uno ...
esto no es una flor sino una oración
Porque Dios solo se presenta a través de tu Gracia.
Amor, única forma de vivir, en tu gracia ...
Eres mi clave de lo celestial ...
Eres mi amor y un amor hasta el final.

Copyright Dale Beck 2018



I’ve got to say, regardless of the political or medical incongruencies behind the lockdown, this third term is striking me hard. I find I cannot go to my usual recourses to escape the boredom, painting, writing etc, seem played out… I don’t feel that they will alleviate the ennui I’m feeling. This time feels like I’m in solitary confinement, without a baseball to bounce off the walls of my room. All of my media outlets are no longer sustaining my interior monologue… I’m just playing chess against a computer and even at the highest setting the computer is not a very good player…

I was already in a chronically depressive state, and the lack of company is getting me down. Janet is a hundred miles away and I dare not drive down there in case I’m arrested… This sounds ridiculous but only yesterday people were fined for travelling five miles into the country with a cup of coffee, which the police claimed could constitute a picnic. The world has ceased to make even a modicum of sense or common sense.

Janet says another week will see her lose her mind completely. I don’t feel I have that long to wait, unless I can find someway of provoking some interest in a new hobby I will atrophy. I miss my kids, my beloved and my Phoenix. I know I am not alone in these feelings but it’s hard to take solace in being one of a community of isolates.

When was the last time you spoke to someone outside of your family members?

It’s over a month since I spoke to anyone in real life, not on facetime etc.

How do we actually protect our mental health when everything and everyone is beyond comprehension?

asking for a friend…

Dale m


saddest thing about being on your own? I just played an amazing game of chess, beating the highest level of computer with 4 pawns against 5 pawns and a knight. unbelievable! nobody to share my childish glee with…




To start at any new institution, be it through work or education, is always fraught. You are new-born, fresh and doe-eyed… You have yet to be allotted your role or status. It’s a moment of flux, and how you react will have significance further down the line. Mistakes are bound to be made… hastily accepted allegiances can cause detrimental effects for years down the line. Luckily, most of these patently wrong relationships have a way of being dropped like a bitter pill… wrapped in velvet.

Yet the desire to coagulate with another is strong. Being alone and unknowing is a terrifying prospect and it was thus that I began to clot with a young fresh faced chap, who I shall call Philip or Pip, as is my want.

I met young Pip on the first bus into the campus, we were both obviously nervous and began to talk… At this stage of my pupation period I looked fairly normal and maybe a bit posh with my incongruous attaché case which I carried rather than the ubiquitous back pack. I had yet to develop the fripperies and flummeries of my later look, so to this young chap it was safe to assume I was mostly harmless.

The earnest lad sat next to me and politely shook my hand, inwardly smiling, I asked him what he was going to study.

“PPE” I had no idea what that was (politics, philosophy and Economics). To the cognoscenti this would have been a red flag… Only Tory boys read PPE!

As I was nowhere near being cognoscenti at the time, I was a working-class Oik and a mature student to boot, I took this on face value and thought it might be vaguely interesting.

The was a slight rip in our burgeoning friendship when I told him that I planned to study English and American Studies… He was obviously more in the know than I was, because he recognised Liberal leanings at best, probably a socialist. He recoiled as I told him this like I’d spat a Serpent’s venom in his face. His initial assumption that I was like him had been misplaced… The attaché case had been a blind!

When we arrived at the stop by the Student’s Union, we entered together, continuing to cling to one another like ship-wrecked sailors to flotsam, not out of fealty but for the fear we might drown if we let loose of each other.

Each had become the others badge of belonging. I was suffering heavily from imposter syndrome, expecting a tap on the shoulder at any moment, declining me the entrance into this elite world. For young Pip, I fear that this spot was not what he had anticipated… He was bolted on to go to Oxbridge but for the below average marks in his A’ levels. Redbrick was a land where he too was a fish out of water.

We found our pigeon holes in the Union, and at last we had some instructions. I don’t know if things have changed since the thirty odd years when I attended, but in those days you were rather left to sink or swim as a fresher. Nobody knew where they were supposed to be or what they were supposed to do. It was quit disorientating . So when you actually found an itinerary, you clung on to it like it was the dead sea scrolls.

We were both offered a free meal at one of the halls of residence and after a meal, we split up to go and register at our prospective faculties. That was the last time I saw young Pip, I hope he passed. I hope he got the safe Tory seat that his education was leading to…

Tell I lie, I would see him walking across the concourse and nod at him he would nod at me… then after a couple of days even the nods would drop… Such is life!

(to be continued)

Dale m