Articles written by Carl Halling - Page 5

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About me - Carl Halling

Carl Halling. Christian actor, singer, songwriter, writer, other. I was born on the Goldhawk Road, W6, in the Chiswick/Shepherds Bush/Hammersmith district of west London, UK. CD (Tasman Records) A Taste of Summer Wine - James Hughes, Carl Halling and the

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Uncertainty: 76 of 91
Thanks to the large quantity of notes I committed to paper while at Westfield, my beloved college can live again through writings I've painstakingly forged out of them, such as the first paragraph of the poetic piece below, "Ice Spoke of the Spells". It was based on several conversations I had with G*, a great Westfield frie... More..
Relationships & Family > Parents Tribute to mothers: 59 of 69
My mother, Miss Ann Watt of Vancouver Angela Jean Watt My mother was born Angela Jean Watt on the 13th of November 1915 to British-born parents in the city of Brandon, Manitoba. Her father a carpenter by trade was from a Presbyterian family of Scottish extraction, but hailing from the Donegal-Tyrone borderlands in the provin... More..
Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Life: 142 of 163
Memories, seafaring and otherwise: Outside the Gates of Sultan The Sea Dogs of La Rochelle If my fifty year old memory serves me faithfully, it was some weeks after returning from the Ocean Youth Club trip to the Baltic in the summer of 1975 that I sailed with the RNR to La Rochelle on the Atlantic coast of France. La Rochel... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Drinking: 151 of 172
Oblivion in Recession Introduction The following piece has its origins in the dying days of January 1993. When I set about preparing it for the eyes of the world through a process of aestheticization and versification, the punctuation was significantly altered, with commas inserted in the place of semi-colons and so on. It w... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Desire: 321 of 361
In Such a State as This In such a state as this I could fall In love With anyone. The night before last I went to the ball Couples filing out I wanted to be one half of ev'ry one But I didn't want to lose her. I've done little today Except mope Dolefully around I'll get over how I feel now, And very soon. Gradually I'll free... More..
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Dancing: 19 of 21
Dancing 1977: My disco, party, clubbing days... The totemic year of 1977 was a far darker one than those coming before it. It was after all marked by the Punk uprising, a musical and cultural movement which could be said to have fatally disabled Rock's uneven progress as an art form with its savage DIY ethic, which, fused wi... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Regret: 274 of 300
The Happy Highways Where I Went I can't remember exactly when it was that my recent past started haunting me, or even if it ever did, that is, before I came to my senses and so to Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour. Still, I can't help thinking it was around the mid 1980s soon after returning to Westfield College in pastora... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Music: 140 of 153
Last Dance of the Birthday Boy The following piece which I have elected to call "Birthday Boozer, Solo Dancer", was compiled on the 21st of May 2006, using, as raw material, a few hastily scrawled notes commemorating a birthday recently celebrated in the early '90s and possibly dating from the 8th of October 1992 or '91 or e... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Letters: 62 of 66
Dear... I haven't been in touch for a long time. Sorry. The last time I saw you was in St. Christopher's Place. It was a lovely evening... when I knocked that chair over. I am sorry. Since then, I've had not a few accidents of that kind. Just three days ago, I slipped out in a garden at a friend's house... and keeled over, n... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Memories: 510 of 539
Along Whiteladies Road I remember the grey slithers of rain, The jocular driver As I boarded the bus At Temple Meads, And the friendly lady Who told me When we had arrived At the city centre. I remember the little pub on King Street, With its quiet Maritime atmosphere And the first readthrough. I remember tramping Along Park... More..