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ROLL OVER BEETHOVEN

Richard Fleming

October 20, 2026

Chuck Berry·Fiction·Legends·Richard Fleming·SixMoreArts·Tunes Into Tales·Yore

The Parish Church is full to bursting. Light pours through the ancient stained-glass windows. The glorious notes of a Beethoven sonata fill the air. I glance down at Chuck Berry’s shoes as the Minister’s voice intones those familiar words: “Who gives this woman?” I answer firmly: “I do.” It was nineteen-eighty-something. I was a young man, free as air, making…

Photos Into Words·Poetry·SixMoreArts·Trails

What’s the Mandarin For Orange?

While poetry isn't quite my trade, I do thoroughly enjoy a touch of wordplay…

The Minnow and the Moon-Peel

He spent months trying to leap high enough to touch the Moon.…

Will The Earth Have the Final Word?

One day, there will be no political victory worth celebrating, no fortune…

The Lost Crimson Heart

October 2, 2026

Banksy·Experimental prose·Graffiti·Paintings Into Letters·SixMoreArts

One second, it was anchored by a fine black thread wrapped twice around her wrist, and the next, it was adrift, caught in an updraft and carried along the rough concrete wall. Geum reached, a reflex of hope and panic, but her fingertips only brushed the tail of the string…

The Scallop Shell and the Lapis Lazuli

September 25, 2026

Experimental prose·Painting·SixMoreArts·Trails

In truth, there was no grand sea foam or divine zephyr carrying a goddess ashore. There was only Simonetta, his married neighbour, shivering in her shift while two apprentices blew dried rose petals at her through brass tubes to simulate a celestial breeze…

Prelude

September 23, 2026

Experimental prose·Photos Into Words·SixMoreArts·Trails

The poem was written on a sheet of cream lay-laid paper he had taken from his study two days ago. He had used an old Parker fountain pen with blue-black ink that took five minutes to dry on the hard surface. There were no long words in it…

Before I Knew Who I Was

September 20, 2026

Experimental prose·Paintings Into Letters·SixMoreArts·Trails

I picked up Oliver’s forgotten graphite pencil from the floor. Holding it against the blank space above my collar, I did not draw eyes to see with or a mouth to speak. Instead, I drew a single, delicate bow tied into the fabric of my cardigan…

A Final Brushstroke

September 15, 2026

Experimental prose·Paintings Into Letters·SixMoreArts

Pablo Picasso’s final year proved that for him, art was not merely a medium of expression, but the literal engine of his survival: a final, defiant assertion of life against death…

Two Rococo Couplets

September 15, 2026

France·Paintings Into Letters·Poetry·SixMoreArts·Yore

Queen Marie Antoinette, who regularly sat for Vigée Le Brun, popularised the kind of simple, white muslin dress so beautifully painted in this portrait of the Comtesse de la Châtre, daughter of a high-ranking member of Louis XV’s immediate court.…

Beyond the Smile: My Sister, Lisa

September 12, 2026

Experimental prose·Interview·Italy·Paintings Into Letters·SixMoreArts

She merely said, ‘The Master keeps asking me to think of secrets, Ginevra. He tells me to hold a thought I will never share with anyone.’ Back then, she found it odd, a silly game, but she humoured him. And that, I believe, is the heart of the mystery that…

How Human Is It to Always Be Wanting Something Else?

September 8, 2026

Essay·Experimental prose·Paintings Into Letters·SixMoreArts

There is an impulse almost instinctive about wanting what we do not have. We can be surrounded by things we once hoped for and still find ourselves looking towards something beyond them: a different life, a different place, a different person or simply a matter we cannot quite name. It…

In the Sky with Diamonds

August 27, 2026

Experimental prose·SixMoreArts·Tunes Into Tales

Working for Diamond Airways sounded glamorous right up until my inaugural transatlantic flight from Heathrow to JFK. The luxury branding meant our dress code consisted of an unnecessarily stiff-collared midnight-blue uniform and a pair of glittering silver wings sharp enough to slice bread. Lord Feckington pressed the call attendant button…

The Cerulean Temperament

August 25, 2026

Experimental prose·Photos Into Words·SixMoreArts·Trails

The afternoon sky awoke in a fit of violet jealousy, bruising the horizon with rich, velvet shadows that spilled over the roofs of the quiet village. Down in the square, the cobblestones soaked up the lavender temper, turning the fountain’s spray into fine threads of plum-coloured glass. Nobody dared carry…

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Muppets on the Muppet Show tonight

The tension is personified by Statler and Waldorf, the two elderly cynics perched permanently in the box seats. They are the ultimate…

Books of Our Continent

From the quiet shelves of forty-four national archives and ancient university libraries to the cosy corners of independent bookstores and modest home…

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SixMoreArts

ROLL OVER BEETHOVEN

What’s the Mandarin For Orange?

The Minnow and the Moon-Peel

Will The Earth Have the Final Word?

The Lost Crimson Heart

The Scallop Shell and the Lapis Lazuli

Prelude

Before I Knew Who I Was

A Final Brushstroke

Two Rococo Couplets

Beyond the Smile: My Sister, Lisa

How Human Is It to Always Be Wanting Something Else?

In the Sky with Diamonds

The Cerulean Temperament

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