Poems.

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Poem: Digital

A couple of years ago, I had a run-in with my brain. I like its not having a precise diagnosis, and even better that it only happened once, briefly. (Insurers please note.) Read more...

Published

26 January 2014

Poem: The sound of a carotid

A couple of years ago I had a.... No that's boring. Hell, I'm 67, I am in the zone, no more or less than that, so far. I have had the odd brush, the odd procedure, I take the meds... Read more...

Published

26 January 2014

Poem: Schoolboys on a bus

I like my bus rides into town. We are a very mixed bunch, but I like best checking out the real-life youngsters I overhear. How like are they to the reality-TV shows and dramas by which I normally get to hear and watch them? How like the young of other generations? Read more...

Published

26 January 2014

Poem: Alfie – a dog

My wife had a Jack Russell for five years until this summer. We miss him, though he was a stroppy little beggar (and perhaps because he was). Read more...

Published

21 November 2013

Poem: The mobile waste facility

I wrote this poem as a first attempt at doing justice to the pleasure I get in almost any site to do with the waste industry but perhaps especially recycling facilities. Read more...

Published

01 September 2013

Poem: Bernardine Bishop, RIP

It's not important why I lost touch with Bernardine Bishop and my friend, later her husband, Dr Bill Chambers. I feel a fool for letting it happen and it's a lack made even more sharp by her death. Her novels and other writing will last, and their publication make an extraordinary story, both literary and personal. I wrote this for me, of course, but also for Matt, her elder son, because he very kindly included me in her funeral, an event which was exhilarating as well as tearful. Read more...

Published

01 September 2013

Poem: Wild flowers

This is the first poem I posted on my website. Something like it had been in my mind from visits to Crete and Pembrokeshire, but it was really prompted by my daughter Emma. She was celebrating Peter Renwick's birthday today and wanted a poem for the occasion. She and I had been visiting the Rex Whistler works in a temporary show at Salisbury Museum and his room at Mottisfont Abbey. Afterwards, we went for a walk on Stockbridge Down, our first there. Read more...

Published

01 September 2013
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