Breaking point 1
My absence from this space has been from breaking:
A broken car
Broken washing machine
Broken window locks
A breaking boiler.
A broken tibia.
Grind, spin, creak, snap.
And the world slows to a stuttering, shuddering stop.
Everything shrinks into pain relief, comfort, safety, the support of friends who shop and drive, care and check … Read more
It wasn’t winter
I have realised,
that it wasn’t winter that made me miserable and maudlin
It was my work,
the ruled, clock time,
leaving me night.
I have maligned winter,
curled up and wished for spring.
But I have wronged her,
for there is beauty in … Read more
So last week I wrote about poetry and the risk it felt in writing it. I wrote nobly about how failure would be good for me as it wasn’t all about grades. Which was alright to say when I hadn’t had a grade back. But now I have. And I don’t like it.
It isn’t … Read more
As a young child I wrote poetry, badly but enthusiastically, secretly. I then did an English degree which involved, of course, reading lots of poetry. I continued to scribble down verses of my own but the degree was more concerned with the deconstruction and analysis of other people’s poems.
I’ve always fancied doing a creative … Read more
First they came for
… Read more
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.
I don’t really know what to think about the Queen’s death…
I don’t really know what I think about the Queen’s death
apart from how old I am,
how time passes,
how lost they look,
how everything ends
how like Ozymandias,
nothing will remain.
I don’t know how I feel about the Queen’s death
..except that I feel as I do when,
with … Read more