In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk
Does our race keeps shaping and re-shaping the world that exists around us, as a reflection of our chaotic inner world ? Do we fashion our surroundings in such a way that they become our self-portrait (if we dare to look) ? Perhaps we see ourselves for the… Continue reading Cat Vies with Hard Drive for my Soul
Around the world, the hoodlums and outlaws are running amok, in their suits of armour made of lies. By contrast, the sheriffs seem downcast, overwhelmed and on the run. I feel downcast and overwhelmed, too. Might it mean that I’m a sheriff, in disguise ? But there is no star in my cupboard.
The picture I… Continue reading High Noon is Nearly Upon Us. Where's the Sheriff ?
The parrot in his cage is sitting pretty, hanging on tight. Meanwhile, Mr Toad is enjoying himself in the chaos he’s been allowed to stir up. Chaos is Toad’s element. It tends to follow him, with cameras. Presumably those who’ve granted Toad this scope find chaos fun as well.
The first… Continue reading The Parrot Repetitive
This stanza was written just minutes before it was announced that Mr B. Johnson, sacked twice in the past for being a liar, had just become Prime Minister of the UK. He had been elected to that position, not by the country, but by members of the Tory Party, some… Continue reading The Parrot Studies the Human Brain
On the day this piece was written the nation was waiting to find out which of the two rival (Tory) candidates was about to take control of our nation, Hunt or Johnson. Both were hollow men, diddy men. Johnson was widely expected to get it, so no great surprise was… Continue reading The Parrot Keeps Asking
I don’t think there was any immediate catalyst for this stanza, as far as date or event were concerned. In the UK, as elsewhere, there just seemed to be so few redeeming features, no 5th cavalry rescue , no clearing of the mist, no light of sanity breaking through. The… Continue reading Judgement from Paradise
The stanza above makes extensive reference to that extraordinary and justifiably famous poem by W.B. Yeats called “The Second Coming”. Yeats’ poem applies so closely to our own present time, of course. But might that be true of every present time ? Shakespeare too was gripped by the fear… Continue reading Speaking of the Worst
This stanza was written just after Theresa May had accused the Commons of merely obstructing her and the “will of the people” and just before she headed back to the EU to beg for an extension. The thought occurred that it is possible to have no pride and no humility… Continue reading The Parrot Meets the Grotesque
I’m thinking here of our sleek new Foreign Secretary’s recent comment, saying – as reported in the Guardian – that “relations with the EU will be ‘poisoned for many years to come’ if Brussels fails to budge in the Brexit talks.” In other words, says Mr Hunt, he of… Continue reading The Parrot Takes New Bearings
The parrot thought he was studying the tea leaves. Instead he found himself watching in horror as the tea cup crumbled in his hand… Continue reading The Parrot Wails
Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk
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