Friday, January 18, 2013

Fire Dogs

Fire dogs never sleep when the hearth is awake
Restlessness sat on them; a sojourn outside to make
When the green fields are laced lightly in white
Or the sun hung in a blue sky lower than sight
Birds call from deep within the fastness of holly
To ward off the cold and mourn their sibling folly
A badger may so stir, or a fox may his hunger blunt
But the fire dog knows to survive now he must hunt

Thursday, January 17, 2013


Lateral and careless save for seven shades of moonlight
That lingers long in the half light of this darkness and...
Sends the message to the corvine beast; darkness is coming
For not now one iota of hope is left of sacrifice unmeasured
That should comfort and hold the unlocked secrets of the day
Why did I linger so long on these desolate northern shores?
When all the ships have left carrying my heart with the tide

Wednesday, January 16, 2013


Snow falls like a meteor shower of whitest softness
Hits earth to effervesce and dissipate on warm surfaces
Sows grass on winter dunes rising up from a pale desert
Tarry not in warmth today; a pallid sendaline robed queen,
Shall come swift on a wind and leave sooner than desired


Sunday, January 13, 2013

Fish food for thought

Some scientists published in the journal Fish and Fisheries
Sombre studious research concluding that fish feel no pain
It finds them impervious to hurt by insufficient brain power
I can but only disagree...
For if deficient brain power were the only marker of anguish
The world of men would be a more peaceful place no doubt
For fish swam in concord long before we came to destroy the world

Thursday, January 10, 2013


Mist, mist wreathes everything
It seeps out of the very ground
Trees now bereft of green clothing
Hug it close; hiding their nakedness
It shields motion from eyes and ears
Circles and devours me in watery film
Luminous eyes glow in the half light
Menacing and advancing it comes
Looms large out of the myopic gloom
Into my clear view and happy is he
 My dog and the mist partners in joy

The Nexus of Lesser Men

Futility is the nexus on which society now pivots its future leaders
Here comes the time of lesser men to take up the reins of power
Striving only wealth as the key to unlock influence; tis a fools belief
The look to no superior deed; are not imbued with wisdom; cannot harm
True power comes through obedience to a pure personality; or to terror
The new see only a world where humanity is weak against moneyed might
But they do not see all ends and though we may lose now we remain...
Unbowed in the rattling of sabres by mice long enamoured of cheese


The hour is seven dawn in the month of January
I can see light again on the eastern horizon
A pale fissure opening between the night and day
Starlight recedes into the west; spring is coming

Wednesday, January 09, 2013

Day shall give way

Day give way to night and scatter stars across the water
Pearls to make a trail of cosmic light to guide ships home
For though the world now closes in so fast about us
The spirit of past deeds, lingers like ghosts at dusk
They haunt the night air and pervade uneasy dreams
Till the sun rises again; high and new; in a dawn sky.
Yet the warmth of the fresh day cannot warm the chill;
The world has changed and our hearts are left in the past
To wonder; how on earth did it all come to this?

Monday, January 07, 2013

Love Remembered

Loves shadow lies long on the ground
It hugs against grass like a lost caress
I went back today to our special place
And sat on the ground under the trees
In the warm air within that silent bower
On a soft, mossy carpet of greensward
I felt your embrace upon me once again
And in the fragrant meadowsweet haze
I smelt your skin on mine and so briefly
The temperate breath of day made you real

Saturday, January 05, 2013

778 Islands

East and West Island *and 776 siblings in the southern globe
Wait to share a sumptuous feast of yet undiscovered wealth
That is laid on the white tablecloth of the pristine land south
Libated with the cold wine from clear, southern Arctic oceans
Pity yet that the gluttony is so set against the tyranny of law
That disputes and niggles and gnaws at antiquities very bones
Even before the repast call begins to chime; the bell of war rings
Supplant, rename, invade, and where force fails; wreak diplomacy
The hunger of colonialism and the desperation for wealth see...
Two nations severed in any mediation by the desire to wrest...
One final gem from the last free clean land and sea on earth

*The Falkland / Islas Malvinas are an archipelago located in the South Atlantic Ocean on the Patagonian Shelf. The principal islands are East Falkland, West Falkland and 776 smaller islands. Controversy exists over the Falklands' original discovery and subsequent colonisation by Europeans. At various times there have been French, British, Spanish, and Argentine settlements. Oil exploration, licensed by the Falkland Islands Government, remains controversial as a result of maritime disputes with Argentina.

Friday, January 04, 2013


It wraps around me like a storm cloud; so grey is this winter day
Neither shall I, bird or beast venture from bush, hearth or sett
We will wait just a little more till the waxing days bring spring
Where light and warmth shall disrobe these dreary days and...
Make once more a fair garden to set aside these gloomy days in

W H Smith will not be shopping there again - 1p for a carrier bag indeed.

Hello silly company - you're selling mainly paper products and it kind of rains all the time here

To make it worse they are selling the same book on Amazon for £8.66 that includes a box and free delivery.

Thursday, January 03, 2013

The whittling has finished. The judges of this year's Man Booker Prize started with a daunting 145 novels and have chosen Hilary Mantel's book ‘Bring up the Bodies.’ She becomes only the third author, after Peter Carey and J.M. Coetzee, to win the prize twice and she is also the first to win with a sequel to the first winning novel (Wolf Hall won in 2009) and also the first to win with such a short amount of time between books.

 Her revival of Thomas Cromwell – and with him the historical novel – is one of the great achievements of modern literature. There is the last volume of her trilogy still to come so her Man Booker tale may yet have a further chapter.

 Think I might have to get this book to see how her writing style works – I have to say she kind of looks like an author - see the picture below.

My heaven is not yours

Oh I understand that the empyrean* is not for me
Not in this lifetime; if ever it shall be within grasp
If the baser part of existence is unleashed and tamed
Even without divine intervention we find our heaven

*Empyrean (Pr empirian) - the highest part of heaven, believed in ancient Greek and Roman times to contain pure fire or light and believed by some Christians to be the dwelling place of God)

Wednesday, January 02, 2013

My Journey is not yours

Nobler than thou; hardly my dear, but so much older
I, so old to you now that when your world was young,
I was ripe for a dotage held within this crumbling edifice
That creation is now alas, a remnant of more elegant times
But there was never an era when red dragons rode the air
Nor of princes, elves or wizards righting all the wrongs
I am afraid we did all that you enjoy now without help
Though we may have desperately wished for it at times
This new avaricial beat of the world; I understand not
It never held any rhythmic sway over us then, but for you
It chimes in all you do; becomes the song of your existence
So look not into my life now its pool of stars is fading
Open up the night and make a wish on your own star

Tuesday, January 01, 2013

New Year

Slow is the perceived hand of time to the artist
Yet so, it carves a deep presence across skin
Destroys all touched with sweet cerulean decay
Hides behind the watchful eyes feeding its destiny
A tardy abridgment of a longevity gilt not renewed
Bonded within instance and memory into the aeons