A poem for Father’s Day
Year of activism #33
Governance and ways of making decisions has been in lots of conversations lately and any activist comes across the relationship between decision-…
Year of activism #33
Without Strings Attached
Prompted by My wife’s recent blog barbaramatthews14.tumblr.com/post/628287492… and experiences of my own.
Do you need clown shoes? Finding a research job during Covid lockdowns
The other day I had an actual 3D, face to face lunch with a colleague, let’s call him Simon. After months of 2D Zoom catch ups, it was lovely to be …
Do you need clown shoes? Finding a research job during Covid lockdowns
Turtledove wisdom
I set aside the dystopian novel I’m reading and gaze through the window glass for external sustenance. An immigrant turtledove, all fluid twitching …
Turtledove wisdom
My Birthday Poem
Tried to write a poem for my birthday and was surprised by what happened, but I kinda liked it 😀
A friend in Another Place
Don’t we all think others are one course’ and it’s only us who’ve lost it?
Other people always seem on course,
Full Ahead to somewhere on the Sea of Life.
I am forever losing the compass
and forgetting how to drop anchor,
permanently adrift in an Other Place.
Occasionally I see harbour lights beckon
but their beams wax and wane in the fog of novelty.
Besides,
I’ve decided,
they’re probably home to the Pirates,
the Pirates of Love.
I am better off out here alone,
amidst the rocks and icebergs and whirlpools.
But I still need essential supplies
and I have nothing to trade,
except for some shells which,
when placed against the ear,
whisper cryptic messages
from an Other Place,
just in case
other people
are in an Other Place
too.
A poem about ‘those days’
Old Men Cry Easily
A song in this vein
Made me think
It is true old men
Wear their hearts on sleeves.
So many regrets
About opportunities missed
Loves sadly lost
Communication so incomplete.
Women on the other hand
Share so much of themselves
Letting others know
About feelings so deep.
Wondering why it is
That men struggle so much
When all they need to do
Is say what they think.
Or more of what they feel
So early this quashed
By those unwilling to acknowledge
The depths that exist.
For men have places
Unseen so often
Faces rarely shown
Ideas that might resonate.
15/8/2020
The Waiting
A vigil of sorts
Waiting for the operation
Trying to reassure
Her thirst unrelenting.
As blood sugar level drops
Confusion more evident
Drifting in and out
Of unsettled sleep.
The hands crocheting
A task no longer possible
Searching for a scissors
To cut an errant thread.
Times of lucidity
Quickly dissolving away
But still worried about me
Time wasted waiting with her.
The time moves on
Passing for me in a blur
Knowing that this may be
My last time with her.
After eight long hours
The advice is received
No operation today
Emergencies took priority.
Happy at last to drink
And eat a small meal
Me hoping that tomorrow
This will not be repeated.
But the phone call came
Explaining the risks ahead
The operation to begin
Uncertainty begins again.
18/8/2020
