Wise Beyond His Years

“Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?” – John Keats. Sentiments from the 19th century English poet from which I oft feed when seeking to reconcile tougher life episodes which tap me on the shoulder and tarry unwantedly for a…

Plea For Delay

In lockdown, to continue revisiting some of the 60-70 poems written in summer 2017 (don’t worry I’m not gonna post them all!), I present prose penned to a higher being, pleading my moribund father be granted more familial time. Who that being was/is I don’t know. But regardless if it was one of the Holy…

Leopards with Immovable Markings

I’ve absolutely no issue with religion per se. The comfort it brings to those with faith in a host of dreadful situations is heartwarming and noble. In addition, I’ve nothing but admiration for those who live by the ecclesiastical edicts they serve as a life choice to follow. I am, though, baffled by individuals who…

Woodhouse Man

You may argue you’ve suffered enough during the COVID lockdown without yours truly starting to subject you to a selection of the eighty or so poems I penned in 2017. Although, not exclusively relating to the old man, this prose written during the last few months of my father’s life in 2017. A dreadful landscape…

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…

Poisonous Pathogen

It’s rare I dabble in the genre of poetry writing. I spent some of the summer of 2017 penning around 50 odd sonnets, but stopped when concluding the old school prose style I adopted when chronicling these verses was too self-indulgent for widespread appeal, Under these COVID-19 times, though, this evening I felt moved to…

Defiance

It’s a few years since I’ve penned a sonnet. However, in the isolation of a West Yorkshire dining room, this evening I felt moved to quill prose about the prevailing shenanigans surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic:- SONNET TO COVID Indiscriminate pathogen, agenda stark  Rendering us hermits, unless we roam park  Enough already, you’ve made toxic mark  Existence…

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….