Breaking point 3
We two rest and heal
do not very much
let nature do her thing to knit and mend
to let sleep balm and soothe.
Oh that I could wish the same for all those souls.
But for all … Read more
Breaking point 2
First the tibia,
The horror of waiting in pain
of watching it pale and bleach his skin to blue.
My growl to keep him safe
so he is not just another patient
to be processed by staff
doing their best
under-water with overwhelm themselves.
Then… Read more
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