All The World’s A Stage

Yesterday evening, UK prime minister Boris Johnson informed around a 30 million TV audience the lockdown edict of ‘Stay at Home > Save the NHS > Save Lives‘, had been superseded in England with a slightly more libertarian advocacy of ‘Stay Alert > Control Virus > Save Lives‘. Advice, which is at this time, isn’t being adopted…

Animals Are We

At a risk of alienating my readers and social media followers, this week I’ve embarked upon the always risky strategy of publishing my poetry. A controversial pastime which led to the following observations on the blurb of a poetry book I self-published a couple of years back. Today’s sonnet contains a few observations about the…

Legacy To The Progeny

As relayed in the poem Poisonous Pathogen, in lockdown I’m revisiting the literary conduit of poetry. In this case with a revamped sonnet in tribute of my paternal and maternal grandfathers. Two men whose jocularity fuelled my penchant of seeking a quip out of the most challenging of circumstances. Legacy “I was in Bagdad when you…

Toasting The Bard of Argyll

25th January 2020 – Today sees Scots around the world marking the birthday of 18th century Caledonian poet and lyricist Rabbie (Robert) Burns. Incorporated within these global Burns Night celebrations revellers will feast on haggis, neeps and tatties; along with partaking in a wee dram to toast the national poet of Scotland. In some cases,…

The Self-Proclaimed Bard of Bardsey

A couple of years back, in an attempt to increase the versatility of my work, I set myself a challenge of penning poetry, as an aside to my daily blog. Deliberately quilled in an enigmatic, cryptic and pretentious style, these sonnets provoked the reader into their own challenge of unravelling the meaning of the locutions….

Last Bottle of Red

Departed Loiner’s final glass vessel; merlot bereft In smithereens; akin to spirits of those left behind Fragmented for regeneration; successor yet untold   Like Loiner, vessel existentially intact two months prior Their chance meeting short, though physically & spiritually fruitful Distressingly, House of York affiliate’s hindmost drop of fermented grape   Empty merlot vessel bereft…

The Tiring Jab?

Triggers abound; blindsiding brood Culprits melancholic refrain, aroma, vino, cuisine Messages present on device; though hearken avoided Sobbing avoidance key for offspring of taken Tears for departed patriarch not an option Resistance to avoid exhibiting fragility his lad’s focus.   Triggers ad infinitum; their sporadic existence surety Though no surety of coping strategy to employ Has…

Salle Des Declencheurs

Comfort zone, erstwhile sanctuary of clan chief Former chamber of serenity, grape and musical refrain Empty leather seat beckons product of god’s own county to no avail Empty brood hearts beckon man of god’s own county to no avail Sinatra in solitude, Darrin in desolation his clans hereafter.   Yorkshireman’s invite to his sanctuary has…

Black Skies Are The New Blue

Name your ransom; what dowry for chief’s homecoming? Brood at sea, despite occupying terra firma Clan cut adrift, despite occupying terra firma Old Blue Eyes lament awaits chief Frankie’s throat cleared; though won’t sing ‘The Good Life’ Wine rack bereft of buddy merlot For Pontefract cakes, blue is new black For the brood, skies black…