Poetry

Once upon a time, I founded an online writer’s collective called ‘The Final Carrot’. Here’s some of the poetry that I wrote then, often as entries to the writing assignments.

In Lieu of Flowers - This morning, after waking up unreasonably early, I decided to work on my upcoming book of poetry. I’m at that fortunate and simultaneously frustrating stage, where I have too much material, and in addition to deciding what to leave out, I’m also struggling with how to organize and sequence things. Anyway, as a lifetime procrastinator, I turned to one of my tried and tested ways of wasting time, by reading my FB feed. On there, I was taken by an Internet meme that has been shared by my daughter-in-law, which purports to be an obituary written by an AI program....

No more talk - no more talkof what wasor what wasn’tno could have beenor should have beenlooking forwardthe pastis left behind the ‘we’that we weretogetheris a history lessonof miscommunicationsmisunderstandingsand missed opportunitieswe’ve learned from itno needor timeto relive it todaystronger and wisermore resilientmore understandingmore acceptingwe knowourselveswe loveourselves I celebrate youfinding lovemy search continuespain and gaina bar has been setand youa tough act to follow hopefulthoughtfuland thankfulpatientcompetentand resilient embracing lifetaking warmthfrom the sunreachingfor the starsdancingto my own rhythmnlove is in my heart

Escape Velocity - Whenever I post a poem, I always face the dilemma of whether to share its provenance, or to let readers jump to their own conclusions. After some deliberation, I’ve decided with the latter approach for this one. The idea for this one, came as I watched the sun rise over Crescent Park, in St. Petersburg. I was still wearing a smile on my face, as I could still hear the middle-aged African-American woman still singing gospel songs, as she jogged around the lake. She was now at some distance, but her voice carried over the water, and her joy was...

Precious Summer - This poem is in memory of a late friend, and the precious summer that we spent together, when we were 10 years old.

Forever Friends - This poem imagines a young girl who has moved across the country to a new home, a new school and a new start. Facing uncertainty in her home life, she decides that she needs the stability of a best friend, and so she seeks one out.

Mendacious moments - This is another poem that was written a long time ago (20+ years), and which I've only recently rediscovered and reworked. I seem to remember reading about 'love' hotels, and I just found myself wanting to write about rooms that were 'rented by the hour', digging deeper into the 'who' and 'why' of the people that were frequenting them.

Sixty is the new sixty - Today's the day that I officially mark the start of my 7th decade on this planet. Like many of you, I'm learning that aging is not at all how I thought it would be. My earliest birthday memories are from my fifth birthday. I remember that I had a birthday party, attended by my newly-minted friends from school. I remember some of my birthday gifts, and can even remember how they smelled. Board games of the 60s had a very distinctive boardgamey smell, or at least they do in my memories.

‘Because’ didn’t cut it - This is another blast from the past, and one from 'The Final Carrot' days. I am always amazed at the level of detail that is stored away in our memories, if only we look hard enough. I do remember getting so frustrated when I was told that I couldn't have something or wasn't allowed to do something, because one or both of my brothers had been afforded that liberty in the past, and it had gone badly.

Iris - Today, I read the most heartwarming article in The Guardian, that seemed to be begging me to write this poem. The article was about a batch of letters, that had retrieved from a shipwreck, that was sunk off the coast of Ireland by a German U-boat in 1941. Among the 717 letters recovered from the SS Gairsoppa, were fragments of a 1941 love letter to a woman named Iris.

Catalytic Color Burst - My favorite piece of clothing back then was my scarlet mohair jumper. I'd called around at Pete Monk's house one time (Pete was the rhythm guitarist with The Spasms), and his mum was just sewing up a mohair jumper that she'd just knitted for someone. "I'll make you one", she said, pointing to a color chart on the table, before adding "pick your color". It was almost as if I didn't have a choice in the matter, and I certainly didn't want to offend her, so I picked scarlet. I was over at Pete's house again, a week later, when she proudly presented me with the finished item.