In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

Category: Poetry

  • Conference of the Parties 26

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  • Mr. Johnson’s Competition

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    The UK Tory Party Conference is taking place in Manchester, as I write this. In the little poem above, written this morning after a very rainy night, I am thinking of various misleading and dishonest pronouncements made by Prime Minister Johnson in and around the conference. Perhaps the one that struck me hardest, was his…

  • The Good of Language

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  • In Search of Good Faith

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    I have been carrying a little string of thoughts in my head for several weeks. They make a point I haven’t seen being made elsewhere and which might be worth adding to the mix. Maybe it would be of interest to someone passing, even throw some further light, however dim and peripheral, on what’s happening…

  • What Are Words For ?

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    So how are we to use this astonishing power we have ? This ability to shape the air into sounds of meaning which then we can share – is it purely and only a survival tool, a way to influence, or sell a line ? Are words just hooks to fish with ? And on…

  • UK ’21 – Resumé from the Cage

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  • The Death of an Old Man

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    Yesterday, a grand and often very beautiful funeral was held, following the death of a likeable, shrewd and vivid man. It is of course hard to separate the image we are given of Prince Philip, or ourselves put onto him, from the man he actually was. He surely had a similar problem, himself. Who was…

  • Where You Live

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    This poem was finished on the day of Joe Biden’s Inauguration, January 20th  2021. It does not have the glitter and panache of Amanda Gorman’s poem recited on that day, but I think it carries a great deal of the relief so many of us will have felt on receiving Biden’s clear signals that sense,…