I Send Greetings from this Place

 

The place I’m thinking of this evening is called St Aldhelm’s Chapel, pictured above. It is a small and simple Norman structure built right on the edge of a Dorset cliff, facing out over the English Channel and beyond that to Europe. The chapel has no electricity and… Continue reading I Send Greetings from this Place

The Widow

 

Here is another poem of loss and it’s called “The Widow” (the title links to it). I wrote it some years ago, in sorrow for the grief of the person concerned, but also in awe at how she voiced her bereavement, the words she reached for, and… Continue reading The Widow

A White Shirt Writ Large in the Rose Garden

Dear MP’s Office Manager,

Thank you for your earlier response and yes, please, I would like to hear the Cabinet Office’s response to your news, that by the 26th May you had already received 1500 emails concerning Mr Cummings.

I need to report that the responses I’ve heard so far… Continue reading A White Shirt Writ Large in the Rose Garden

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

The Lying Toad is Back, the Tousled Look, the Winning Smirk, Our Leader…

The prose piece that follows begins with the mismatch in the UK, between the present Prime Minister’s relative popularity on the one hand, and his long established disregard for the Nolan Principles of ethical conduct on the other. The piece provides a reminder that our Prime Minister has… Continue reading The Lying Toad is Back, the Tousled Look, the Winning Smirk, Our Leader...

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

To Stand upon the Earth

This is the last of a daily succession of poems I’ve been uploading “from our seclusion.” They are all excerpts from two series of poems I wrote in the 1990’s, one on Martin Buber’s concept of I-Thou, the other on Carl Jung’s concept of the shadow. They belong together… Continue reading To Stand upon the Earth

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 The True, the Between, the Forming

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 Learning to Dance with my Shadow that Haunts me

The Frail Haven Between I and Thou

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

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