If you could see us noo,wid ye think the instinct deid?That between the thistle n moonwe ur lost? Better tae be left alanethan right. I cin dae wit I wantwae yer language. Freedomtae choose is a chance (again) tae get it wrang.Look how far we’ve come,tae keek through the dreichit cloud…Listen: leave the North Seain […]
Landscape and I get on together well.Though I’m the talkative one, still he can tellHis symptoms of being to me, the way a shellMurmurs of oceans.Loch Rannoch lapses dimpling in the sun.Its hieroglyphs of light fade one by oneBut re-create themselves, their message done,For ever and ever.That sprinkling lark jerked upward in the blueWill daze […]
1Hope feels like a cold glass of Coke on a hot day, dancing in a field, sun shining off my bottle. Walking in the sun after a hard day’s graft,headphones on, drinking beer. Nostalgia as I walk past the club. People stumbling and laughing.Fresh cut grass under bare feet. Those smells: fresh cut hedges and […]
The little girl stands on a knife-covered ledge, Dancing till blood starts to drip from its edge.She’s been licking her wounds since the first time she bled, Getting judged for each thought she commits in her head. She’s been starving herself since she started to eat, Connecting the dots of her heart’s every beat.She’s been […]
These are the shortened daysand the endless nights. Carol Ann Duffy, from Mean Time (1993) Gloomy December.The doldrum days of the dead of winter.These are the shortest daysand the endless nights.So wish for the moonand long for the light. Chill winds. Relentless rain.Dark to go to work in, darkness home again.But, given just one fine […]
Tha Lochinvar òg ’s e air nochdadh bhon iar,
Is gun aon each nas fheàrr aig neach feadh nan Crìoch;
’S gun aige ball-airm ach deagh chlaidheamh a-mhàin,
E marcachd gun armachd ’s na aonar a-ghnàth;
As I lay asleep in Italy
There came a voice from over the Sea
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.
When the fighting days are over, And we’re finished with the fray,When they draft us back to Dover To be put on pension pay;You may think we’ll be in clover But remember this, my son,When the fighting days are over, Then our fight has just begun. It is hard, there’s no […]
Da starns are da map I unrowl
When despair for the world grows in me
/ and I wake in the night at the least sound
/ in fear of what…
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
/ With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
/ And…
Go and open the door.
/ Maybe outside there’s
/ …
