Saturday, 28 March 2009

beautiful blog

Vaughan Williams plays in the background, on a saturday morning when the weather, as my mum would have said 'doesn't know what to do' We had a good poetry group, Paul has won another prize, his sensitivity is boundless in the words. I woke thinking of the beauty of the solitary blogspace, where one is always alone, but soon the questions begin, am I shouting or am I crying?

Thursday, 26 March 2009

apocalyptic apology

So here's me, an engineer (and poet) writing an apology, or make up note; from a nurse to a school is full of surprises. The website stuff is coming together, hope you have chance to look. Tonight is Louth Poetry Group night and John is bringing cake.

Wednesday, 25 March 2009


Its a work at home day, on the computer by seven (in the morning)

Last night spent trying to fix internet for Kate, took an hour to find out BT had an area fault...was the time best to start the fixes in future...

Also found out to join Monastic order you had to be:
  • Practicising Roman Catholic for last two years
  • Under 50
  • Solvent

Its back to Buddhism for me then...although I do believe they also do some of that silent stuff, which is a bit of a worry

Tuesday, 24 March 2009

G or P

Didn't go to 'How do we know there is a G' meeting, instead put Vicki's G poems into a pamphlet and wrote my own G or Poetry poem.

Monday, 23 March 2009

Carrying on

I write this soon after waking: crunching cereal, sipping tea. The calm of yesterday has been buffeted by wind overnight, the wind is still with us. Yesterday evening we watched two programmes about the musician John Martyn...beautiful music but an angry and troubled man who didn't seem to find much peace, except with and through his music. The book of the moment is about the worth and value of poetry, it brings home the inadequacy of my own work in terms of the issues I don't tackle and my lack of depth in respect of the effort put into the work; much of my work is superficial, to do with presentation and distribution; too little to do with writing the poetry itself, but it is my course, I will follow this path for a while, certainly until the current projects are completed.

Sunday, 22 March 2009

Sparkling uncut diamonds


Warm winds
Cold museums
Yellow glazed baubles

Scoops of salt laden water

A wet tee shirt
Skip steps
Glasses of iced lemonade

Skin is its own free beauty

Rock pool diver
Bucket and spade
Hand held in tender hand

Time heals if you let it