Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
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... Continue Reading →
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... Continue Reading →
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... Continue Reading →
Sustained by a Costa coffee, sausage sandwich and a bottle of iced sparkling water, I currently gaze down from a perch in the aforementioned cafe. The target of this voyeurism the massed ranks of consumers below as they wander the main shopping centre thoroughfare, in which I temporarily lodge. There's something almost poetic about watching... Continue Reading →
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.... Continue Reading →
Following the recent emptying of garbage bins by refuse collectors, the wheelie bin cleaning guy is currently treating our cul-de-sac's rubbish receptacles to a monthly spruce up. A £3 jet clean removing the cylinders interior and exterior detritus, providing a sparkling facade, along a pleasant fragrance courtesy of sanitising spray. I'm unclear what cologne this chap... Continue Reading →
Tomorrow sees the 100th anniversary of the end of the Great War (WWI). To mark this occasion today I've decided to take a break from the status quo and write a poem. A piece of prose addressing a fallen soldier from that conflict, referencing the irony of this centenary celebration's close proximity to seemingly fraught... Continue Reading →
Exhausting the superlatives utilised to describe the enchantment of the Lake District has it's challenges. In the absence of a better simile, the degree of difficulty in achieving the paucity of adjectives is akin to an inward high board dive incorporating a tuck, pike, along with a straight water entry. For centuries the aesthetic splendour... Continue Reading →
21st March 2018 is World Poetry Day. A perennial event introduced in 1999 by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO) aimed at raising the profile of prose. It's goal the pulchritude of a poem, the splendour of a sumptuous sonnet, the opulence of the ode and, for the less discerning, the lewdness... Continue Reading →