Category arts

The Flotsam of Frantic Dreams

 

We don’t know any more

where our lives belong

or even where to hide.

The walls of home

hold nothing up

or out

and the door hangs slack

on the hinge.

 

Where have our lives gone ?

 

I consult the… Continue reading The Flotsam of Frantic Dreams

That Child Alone in the Tower and Out on the Golf Course

That Child Alone 2

High Noon this Easter

Let’s recall the film “High Noon,” that great Western. The outlaw and his hoodlum cronies are riding into town. They want revenge on the sheriff, the keeper of the law. The sheriff scours the town looking for support, a posse of townspeople who will help him defend their community from the outlaws. The townspeople know… Continue reading High Noon this Easter

Rome Burning

I run a charity called “Hyphen-21”. The charity holds and manages funding for a project which publishes bilingual poem-posters. Since the Spring of 2017, this project has been called “Poems for …the wall” (before that it was called “Poems for…). Since it first began in 1997, “Poems for…the wall” has been funded by the UK… Continue reading Rome Burning

HATRED : A SESTINA by Robert Friend

Hatred

is wanting

to hurt

and its fulfillment

dancing

on someone’s grave.

 

Because the insult was grave,

I must repay hatred with hatred,

abandon all pleasure: the dancing,

the flirting, the wallowing wantings

of every day. How drab their fulfillment

when… Continue reading HATRED : A SESTINA by Robert Friend

Despatches to my Gazan Son

Boy_and_soldier_in_front_of_Israeli_wall

Justin C McIntosh has given his permission for his photograph above to be used for the cover of a long Turkish poem by Cahit Koytak, now published as a book with an English translation alongside. I am proud to have been one of the translators… Continue reading Despatches to my Gazan Son

The Angel Overhead

 

In his grief, he asked the angel hanging overhead,

his faceless confessor  :

Why, Lord, do sinners’ ways so grossly prosper ?

How can you allow the Lie so fatly to preside ?

And the angel answered :

I invited you to my feast,

my laden tables… Continue reading The Angel Overhead

Body Parts

After death the eye fixes

of course. It was just a part –

now discontinued.

Each pupil has stopped

in its own disjointed way,

having nothing

to look at any more,

no one to show.

I looked at her, the mother

of my children.

She… Continue reading Body Parts

Dorset in View

From above, this region is a quilt

of all colours, covering a vast

and restless sleeper ; each week

the colours have shifted, wrapped

in season. No pause here. No holding still.

The tractor driver spends all the daylight

Sayings

Reaching for words
is like searching the earth
for stones
and then shaping them
one after another
into a path.

 

 

Your words took my breath away.

They killed me with their song.

They made my womb turn over.

Sing to me again.

 

The words… Continue reading Sayings

Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

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