Category: Poetry
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West of Caritas
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“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.”…
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Word Play
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“What is the purpose of poetry ?” I ask myself. Sometimes I find this question simple to answer. And sometimes the answer itself is simple. The purpose of poetry is to work.… continue reading
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I See Everywhere the False
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I thought this was true in 2014, when it was written. I did not know then that the truth can become truer.… continue reading
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Counting
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This poem seems to follow on a bit from the previous one uploaded here. But whereas I wrote “I Insist my Ribs…” over three years ago, “Counting” has been written in the last few days. I have a vague idea of what was in my mind as I wrote this latest poem. And looking at…
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I Insist my Ribs Contain Stars
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I like the idea of mayhem in the crematorium…… continue reading
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Kenwood in May
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Kenwood is an impressive mansion on the northern edge of Hampstead Heath, London. It and its grounds are managed by English Heritage and open to the public. It is a deservedly popular place to visit and on the day in question, I drove my dear friend the late Mary Young there. She lived nearby. Mary…
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Facing West over a Small Field
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Here is a link to a poem about the poet D.J. Enright and his French wife, the artist Madeleine Enright. (See one of her pictures, above). They belonged in worlds quite foreign to me, but in the last few months of their lives, I chanced to be their next-door neighbour. I had moved into a…
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The Blue Field
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This poem was written over ten years ago, when flying was still a safe assumption and planes were common overhead. This year we’ve been been hearing less of the planes, but – thankfully – the swifts are still with us.… continue reading