Category The brain

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… continue reading

The True, the Between, the Forming

This is the penultimate seclusion song of this series, in which the hyphen between I and Thou has alternated each day with the shadow.… continue reading

Learning to Dance with my Shadow that Haunts me

Shall I teach my shadow how I like to dance ? Or must I learn the dance-steps my shadow knows ? Or should we learn a new dance, altogether ? … continue reading

Where My Shadow Lives

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I Range the Earth

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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 out on the world we have made. And perhaps we choose, or… continue reading

Dust

Lost in the chaos of present events, we – or something in us – look to leadership for orientation, guidance and comfort. And the same something perhaps assumes that, the worse the crisis, the better that leadership must be and rescue is on the way. And assumes as well that, in this chaos, our own judgement and choice of leader… continue reading

The Parrot Studies the Human Brain

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 of whom had only just joined the membership, adamant they… continue reading

The Parrot Keeps Asking

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 expressed when he did. In the meantime, one was vividly… continue reading

The Parrot Goes to Glastonbury

The 2019 Glastonbury music festival is now behind us. The parrot attended, at least in spirit. Then he came home and read this article in The Independent. https://www.independent.co.uk/…/brexit-jeremy-corbyn-len-mc… It suggests that, out here in the present-day world, what goes on in dear old Len Mcluskey”s tent/castle/head-harbour-of-the-past seemed to be having an immoderate affect upon Corbyn’s position and actions over Brexit,… continue reading

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

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