In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk
Instead of “shakes the bars” the author might just as well have written “wracks his brains” – a more conventional image, though equally physical a description. But since the parrot lives in a cage, it seemed fitting that he should do some violence to that, instead of to himself. … Continue reading The Parrot Shakes the Bars
I know that, in writing this, I was remembering a scene from an early “Star Wars” film. An ominous planet approaches. And I remember that image occurring to me, when I came across a book by Iain McGilchrist called “The Master and His Emissary – The Divided Brain and… Continue reading A Brexiter Takes Stock of the Dark Star
One reasonable way
to weigh God’s Creation
is to stand at night
in open space
and look upwards.
Infinite dark
vastness beyond measure
made
effectively
of nothing.
Scattered like dust
through this archway of nothing
you see… Continue reading One Reasonable Way
Poetry once belonged only in open space – the mead hall by a great fire, where flea-bitten warriors sat at table with their lord ; or a place of worship or ceremony, the wedding, the funeral. Not in private, on paper, let alone on screen. Poetry belonged in the air between people, out loud… Continue reading Poems in Public
The poem I’m publishing here foresees the end of the world. The false god Me n’ Mine has too many worshippers to be withstood. Besides Greed, the angel which serves Me n’ Mine most faithfully is the Lie and it is the Lie by which the false god rules and will destroy us all… Continue reading Dust
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
Owl sculpture by Dorothy Love… Continue reading The Brain's a Tunnel
Can liberal democracy survive our tumultuous, bewildering, frightening, dangerous times ? Can it surmount them ? Can it contain and even direct the flailing social forces at work towards positive solutions, a viable human future ?
As things stand, it seems not to be coping at all. It is surely in great danger of… Continue reading Can Liberal Democracy Survive our Tumult ?
I see everywhere the false, the masked,
the sleek and hollow,
the bought and the creatured.
Their words twist the wind
tug at my mind
and steal from me
the hymns of my life
the sacred.
True words die
Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk
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