Category history

The Gaze Blank and Pitiless

WB Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming” was written almost exactly a century ago, but if it’s possible for a poem to become truer still with age, then surely this one does.

And yet…Yeats wrote his poem in 1919, in the aftermath of the First World War and the… Continue reading The Gaze Blank and Pitiless

West of Caritas

“The Conversion of Saul” by Michelangelo, Pauline Chapel fresco, Vatican City.

 

This “I” we each inherit, made spine

of the world, axis, pole,

look-out from the world’s helm

gazing on the universe,

gazing on you,

gazing on death…

 

“Mummy,” I said,

seven or eight years old,

“I have decided

that I am God.”

We were walking east

along Glebe Road

towards the… Continue reading West of Caritas

A Sentence Called Humanity

Steps

The Photograph

“He first deceased : she for a little tried

To live without him, liked it not, and died.”

 

 

There they stand,

those old antagonists,

posing at the head of the high-walled city,

that vast coronet of ruin.

 

Above… Continue reading The Photograph

Trace a Fraught Frontier

Where’s the fraught frontier between

Mercia and East Anglia ? Guards were stationed here

gazing out from within. And within

was somewhere to die for. And without

was someone to kill. I explored it once,

that fraught frontier, now footpath

between nettles. It was sunday

and Cambridge families were out walking there

after a good lunch.

And where’s

the fraught frontier between Wales

and the… Continue reading Trace a Fraught Frontier

Britain’s Return to Health

 

I want to talk about the British Labour Party which – despite everything – still occupies the ground I look to for the beginning of this nation’s regeneration and return to health.

But “ground” is one thing ; the withered and stunted vegetation I see presently over-running and littering… Continue reading Britain's Return to Health

Cat Vies with Hard Drive for my Soul

Our race has re-made the world to be a reflection of our own chaotic inner lives and processes. We’ve fashioned our environment in such a way that it has become our self-portrait (if we dare to look). Perhaps we see ourselves for the first time, when we look… Continue reading Cat Vies with Hard Drive for my Soul

High Noon is Nearly Upon Us. Where’s the Sheriff ?

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 Repetitive

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

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

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