P the fat pigeon nibbles grain. quasi-chaff intended for the sparrows.
In your sleep When vulnerable And fighting Yogurt demons, I creep to your door and Gently Turn the handle. I don’t do anything more than look, Than watch In your innocence; It amazes me how beautiful An individual When unconscious. All the horror anger noise And shouting Is gone; On hold. Suspended. And,Continue reading “IN the night”
The thing about the Sgurr is that from below it looks frightening.
It is the big night. Haggis hot neaps and tatties all prepared. Adequate single malt. 1970’s middle-class, middle-age, middle of the road affluence. Stands prepared memorised the words Rabbi* Burns Toast to the… Mind-block is fascinating. One moment all is ready, the next, nothing. I remember a similarContinue reading “Eve”
We find our way down the cliff, Past Asters And sphagnum, Heather And clover; A muddy track Provides the route. Over style, Past kissing gate, We don’t pause. And the cave mouth, Distorted; a painful yawn, Dripping with hillside water We crawl through. Into the cold and wet and dark. Continue reading “Massacre”
I can feel
As well as
Of their leathery wings;
I love you today
Who knows what will follow;
The only music is the wind
And the waves
Lapping on the pier.
They blend Like cheapened whisky Into a Standing morass of islanders. Talking, Chatting, Mulling over the weather.
The best opening ever. It is from Moby Dick. Ishmael the protagonist; Somewhere near Nantucket. Call me Rod. It doesn’t carry the same Mystique. Wishy-washy, Too British.
My name, Rod(ney) Is an Anglicisation of Reuben* The first-born Or Jacob’s sons. He was supposedly The guy Who suggested Selling Joseph into slavery Rather Than killing him, His idea to daub the coat of many colours With blood from a slaughtered lamb. Exchange sacrifice. It means, Saw in my eyes, For,Continue reading “My name”
The dough, Brown Thick; yeasty, They call it strong. It stands for something; A representation of human essence. Bring us your bread And Salt And earth And we will accept your submission. It is power, It is a norm. And, it is with me. On My hands, Palms, drying CrustContinue reading “The bread”
Silence; artificial, Unnatural; With the elements, There sound, Wind; Leaves; fluttering, Insects Scrambling in their microcosm. There Is always Light Unless You go down, into a cave & Pitch Black. Yet, Even then There is the Sound of your heart Air moving in and out; Muscles twitching.
My dog, Sees a sheep on the hillside And in her head Is sparked An ancient Ecstasy. Her senses heightened All she can perceive is The chase. I hold tightly I sense her frustration, at the futility of her situation. To this, I can relate.
And Islands Without Cagoule or Coat or water-proofing. mid-summer and the midges are alive. The Raspberries nibbled by sparrows and too-tame chaffinches, familiars of the glen.
El gato plump with a late supper of rat or leftover chapatti his swollen testicles on display;
Dog lying, exhausted from the heat & desperation & hunger of homelessness.
In collaboration and partnership we want to harness a movement for change! The introduction of person-centred care throughout The Rotherham Foundation Community Care and Acute Trust: Ensuring that every patient, carer and member of staff is viewed, considered, supported and encouraged through person-centeredness; this is seeing the person beyond their current role or situation. It isContinue reading “Do you want to change the world?”
Would a tiger if given the option have chosen its stripes? Surely;
I find The cinnabar moth caterpillars Moving slowly, ponderously Over the ragwort. A Symphony Metamorphosing Into Something magical. Summer evening beside neglected Railway path, I pause and appreciate; I hesitate and remember. It is all I want, All I need.
I write you a letter, it says How much I appreciate my time with you; All the energy and enthusiasm You invested in our us. I really Cannot express How valuable were the moments. This, then & now. Floating into nothingness, Grasping Now. Together, We can conquer the world, Together, We canContinue reading “Letter (2)”
The message however is usually quite consistent; if you can’t cure me, give me care, comfort, attention, involve my family and those I love, listen to them, consider their wishes.
Joe and I
Nihil sub sole novum Three in the morning. Awake, Throat Trilling; Rasping Scuffing. Saliva nodularity, Inclusion. Exasperation And Exhaustion. Numb. Shaking, Repeating on Itself. Marionette Tarantella. Frustrated Antigone. Moment Like Soft Candy; rock From Blackpool; Stretched from Here to there, Twisted, Manipulated; Elongated to an infinitesimal shattering.Continue reading “Here it is, the allergy.”
Imagine A black hole That consumes Everything. First your name and identity Then your memory, relationships, ideas and personality. Gone. extinguished. Imagine no impression left behind. no shadow no footprint no nothing. And to emphasise the extent of the void take the words, writings and memories of everyone you have ever known and those whoContinue reading “Not even a memory”
I have been reading Amos Oz’s book ‘Dear Zealots’ – it is a collection of essays reflecting the place of zealots in our world – the challenge in our relationships with them, their effect upon us and society, with some thoughts for the future, written last year by Israel’s greatest living novelist. In the bookContinue reading “Humanism/PCC/Amos and archeology”