As I began to recover from the stroke that kept me in hospital from December ’23 till March this year, I managed to write – or rather, type – a significant amount of poetry and other things, all of which helped me to focus on thoughts which were not just about the depressing and disorientating … Continue reading FROM THE STROKE WARD 2
POETRY
EAT YOUR HEART OUT EDWARD LEAR
I was having fun keeping up with the Trump cavalcade of chaos and confusion - largely Trump's own confusion - on Youtube, and on one thread I found myself writing this limerick. I know I'm in the UK, but I feel I've hit on a truth: 'There once was a MAGA in Maine Who woke … Continue reading EAT YOUR HEART OUT EDWARD LEAR
FROM THE STROKE WARD 1
As I began to recover from the stroke that kept me in hospital from December '23 till March this year, I managed to write - or rather, type - a significant amount of poetry and other things, all of which helped me to focus on thoughts which were not just about the depressing and disorientating … Continue reading FROM THE STROKE WARD 1
A Lesson In Criticism….
'You do not like this poem of mine,And you say so, loud and clear;You want to prove your brillianceWith a harsh, dismissive sneer.But all your knocking tells me isThat you have nothing to sayWhich I could usefully listen to:So please, just go away.' No artist expects their work to be liked by every-one. But they … Continue reading A Lesson In Criticism….
Name A Great Poet…
('Reading By The Brook' Winslow Homer 1879)Name a great poet.You have a very wide choice,But one name will do.Was there a time whenThat poet couldn't walk or talk,But then, wow! he could?And was there a timeWhen that poet couldn't write?But then, yes! he could?He learnt how to makeWords appear in front of himWhich others could … Continue reading Name A Great Poet…
The Hill
These handsome. many-windowed housesand their pampered tree-sheltered gardenswere built to partner this steeply-rising road; for looking down on cool nights such as thisthose who live in them can observe at their leisurea sparkling city, a glittering mosaic of brilliant jewels. But do they ever look the other way, to where the roadreaches up towards a … Continue reading The Hill
Heritage: A Story
His mother lilts for the dancerswhen there's no musicians to play;she stands by the field sideon summer eveningsand faces themas they show off their ancient artto the darkening sky,while the old folk sit on chairswatching with critical eyesand the children,with fewer years than fingers,sit on wallslaughing, shoving. clapping;and he one of them,though prouder than theybecause … Continue reading Heritage: A Story
A Sermon Against Sermonisers
I wrote this poem-cum-rant some years back having been somewhat insultingly condescended to by a well-meaning but profoundly insensitive Christian when talking about my depression, an illness I have fought unstintingly since childhood. Since then I have been in many disputes with evangelical and 'born-again' Christians who cannot understand how anybody could disagree with their … Continue reading A Sermon Against Sermonisers
When God Plays His Fiddle…
When God plays his fiddleWe dance to his tune,From noon till midnight,From midnight till noon. When God plays his fiddleThe music he playsWill make the world danceto the end of its days. When God plays his fiddleWith its bitter sweet-tone,We all dance together,We all dance alone. When God plays his fiddle,We both laugh and weep;We … Continue reading When God Plays His Fiddle…
I’m Done With Politics (At Least For A While)…
I'm done with politics (at least for a while).Like so many others I'm desperately angry at what's happening in the world, and I have been doing what little I can -and it has been I admit very little -to contribute to the various debates which are raging around the world today.However it has become plain … Continue reading I’m Done With Politics (At Least For A While)…
The Ethical Watchman 