The clink in the glass of my soul…

The clink in the glass of my soul…

I don’t know what it is that makes me who I am. I have had so many influences in my life and not all of those were good. If some of those influences were reflected from me I don’t think I would be the type of person that I would really like. Most people who know me will joke that I love myself, but in reality that notion couldn’t be further from the truth.

The best of me I think, is a reflection of the marks that the best of others have left upon me. I write about love even in my darkest books, perhaps because it is the most important thing. As a child I loved my mother dearly. As a grown man, my love for my own children shaped me in many ways. But there has been one love that goes to the heart of me and her reflection in me is something rather special.

I somehow found a woman stronger than me. She gives me the dreams I already have and sprinkles them with meaning. Playing with the fire of death gives one perspective. There are no darker places one can go, than to the brightness of the light that draws you in. My journey to that place could well have been different at another juncture in my life. Perhaps I might have continued on that journey with little to draw me back.  I never let go because of my children and because of the very special girl, whose love I daren’t deserve.  She has always been a slip of a thing to me, a delight in her charm and loveliness, a beauty undeserved for a dark soul like mine.


Of all the things I write about, I rarely write about the woman who is always there when it matters and always there when it doesn’t.  Make no mistake I would probably be a disaster alone. I possess way too much melancholy to live a happy life and yet I do.  I have her to thank for the clink in the glass of my soul.

The darkness when if settles is always very loud. It drowns out the logic of all that is good and it calcifies, clinging on to make sure one is left with the memory, the scar, and of those I have many. I’ve been writing something dark again and as is my want, as is my need, I dip into the darkness to make it real.  I test the murkiness fingers first, then my wrist slides below the black pool of fear  and on until I am elbow deep, feeling every breath of anticipation and terror, knowing something is lurking beneath.


It gives my belly fire, stoked up to drive the darkness out and onto the page.  The trouble is that I must feel it first and I really don’t know that I have the strength. If I cannot feel it, I cannot write it, or is it the other way around? But where else would it go if not to the page and how else would I find it, if not through its exploration? I must close my eyes to wonder and listen to the darkness to feel the fear, to tell my best story. It is a risk, a gamble that I am addicted to. My bleeding mind to bleeding page, may well be what readers like about my style I don’t really know for sure, but it is a mighty price to pay sometimes. I could get lost in the silence…But then I go back to her.

Tonight I will open the door to the home we have made together and the first thing that will greet me will be our three dogs.  They are always eager and fast and hungry to reunite with me.  We have three now, somehow growing from our original puppy love for Daisy, through our sorrowful boy Hokee who needed love the most, and on to our poor little lost boy Kevin. Their love is unbridled and a gift that always makes me smile.

Behind their wagging tails my eyes will fall to the girl I love and my smile will broaden. I am lucky to have someone in my life whose splendour I can aspire to only partly emulate. Keeping the company of fools will bring you down; living with wonder, will sent you flying with a lightness to lift you from the darkness. What did I want to be as a boy? A cowboy. A pilot. An astronaut. A writer.  All of the above, but I am a man now. What do I want to be as I go forward in life? Perhaps the answer is simply, to be better.


My darling Jo inspires me through all that she is and all that she does. Inspiration is a special thing to have and maybe I’m just lucky to enjoy the feeling it gives me and so I am always looking up both physically and emotionally.

It’s all too one sided of course. She gets me on the other side of that equation and despite my obvious charms (of which you all know there are many) it is hard to imagine that I could ever light the darkness for her, the way that her light shines and guides me. There is no doubt that  I am a lucky man, for I have come to love someone better than I will ever be.

I never step outside without looking to the sky. I am in awe of the starlit heavens and the splendour of simple cloud formations in the day.  It may sound silly, but a dark soul needs the light, be it even the tiniest dimple from a far distant star in the night sky.  My emotional light comes from many sources; especially my children and I have been blessed. Other people, friends and family all shine their light and I am grateful. Even our three little dogs (one especially – my personal guardian-angel Hokee) help me look up and pull my arm safely from the mire, protecting me from what I might find in its depths.

But the girl who makes me dream the dreams I already have, the splendour in my life, is the girl I share my life with. I say girl, for the mighty woman that she is, makes me feel young at heart and as I grow ever older, it’s nice to feel such lightness in my life. It is not often that I dedicate a piece to one person, but I could never say enough about the wonder that she is, the splendour in my life so maybe just this once eh…


Haven’t read a Max Power book yet?  I think it’s time to pick one up.
Max Power’s books include, Darkly Wood, Darkly Wood II The woman who never wore shoes, Larry Flynn, Bad Blood and Little Big Boy
You can find more details about Max Power’s books here : –
twitter @maxpowerbooks1

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16 thoughts on “The clink in the glass of my soul…

  1. “My bleeding mind to bleeding page, may well be what readers like about my style I don’t really know for sure, but it is a mighty price to pay sometimes.”
    Well said. I recall, after a reading of my poetry at some local cafe, a friend telling me how she loved the way I captured the rawness of experience in my writing. I smiled, thanked her, and thought “ah, but that ability, such as it is, comes with the price of having lived it.”
    Such is the writer’s gift and curse–to be unable to turn from or suppress or pave over those difficult things that others bury.
    Lovely tribute to your love. I, too, am blessed with such a being.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. A profound and beautiful tribute to Jo, Patrick. I’m pleased for you both, but I know my delight could never measure up to where you are. We don’t have any dogs, and though we have one child, we like to think we made a damn good job of him. He’s now 35, lives in a foreign land, speaks the language fluently and is better travelled than Alan Whicker.
    Do I have a ‘Joanne’ in my life? My Jo is called Olive, and I set eyes on her one night as I tried to focus on something other than my drink and my cigarette. I have her to thank for my existence because unlike your good self, my physical and mental destruction was slow and self-inflicted. Thirty ciggies a day, and ten pints a night, and I was only 23. 🙂 We saw each other for a couple of hours at a time over a few months and then we were parted for a year. In 1977 when Olive was only 19, we married, and that year I gave up the cigarettes and cut down on the booze.
    Yes, we have different memories of ‘darkness’, and different reasons to be thankful for the girls in our lives, but I know where you’re coming from. Long may it last for you both. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Tom.. sounds like we are both lucky and grateful because of the ones closest to us in our lives. I’m off the cigs nearly 14 years now .. there are perhaps unsurprisingly many stories associated with that addiction too ☘️🎈🎃

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Lesley.. it took someone special to teach me the value of opening my heart and she has made my life extra special. I’ll take humble .. there is plenty of room for compliments inside this big old head of mine🤔☘️🎈❤️


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