Precious

Precious

Aye, you were that right enough,

Write from the start,

A story once heard,

A presence so light,

Like a pulling together

Of all the best words.

And paths aren’t plans;

We are our own page.

Read us in peace,

Sing us on streets,

As la-la-la-la lullabyes,

Tra-la-la-la love yous.

RF 2017

It's new. First line sounds pretty Scottish (to me) but then we have been living here 14 and a half years now... Photo was taken in Musselburgh in October 2016.

Sign of the times

Significant age milestone approaches so here I am (above), in 1970, having the kind of crazy fun we had in the 1970s. Beach is somewhere in North East England... it could be Scarborough, Redcar, Filey... it doesn't say. I was 3. It says 'September' on the back.

As part of grand ageing I promised myself I would put out a little pamphlet of poems this year. My last publication was 2008 so I if I am serious about this it's probably time to be getting on with something. I don't do a lot of inspirational quoting but here is something from Jeanette Winterson's very marvellous "Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?" (possibly best memoir ever...):

"I am an ambitious writer – I don't see the point of being anything; no, not anything at all, if you have no ambition for it."

The poem below is from a few years back and I come and go with it... is it cheesy (a cardinal sin in poetry world...), do most 'proper' poetry folk think my poems are off the scale anyway so what does that matter, have I got too many 'I' poems already (another sin), am I just a sinner (answer, well, yes, undeniably, out of choice for the main part), do I want to write like anyone else? Anyway, here it is. What shall I do with it..?

A rainbow state of mind

It's just another image,

Me up on a cliff edge.

Can you see me – look harder,

I'm doing something absurd.

I'm on my tippest toes,

My whole being straining

Like I'm taller and daring,

Arms reaching, quite mad.

There are colours above me

And I'm trying to grasp them,

To grab hold of a rainbow,

That is my task in hand.

Its arch seems so solid,

The prettiest concrete,

I'm mocked by a playground

And we all love to play.

I stretch for the edges,

My muscles complaining,

The prize looks so perfect,

The true swing of swings.

And though I know it's unlikely

I'll feel satisfaction,

My eyes still burn upwards,

My touch flies sky high.

RF 2010

Definition...

Open arms

Let your family

Be something good,

Open and warm,

Not ruled by blood,

Or geography.

And, large or small,

Keep this resolve:

Embrace outside,

Work hard inside,

Make history.

RF 2016

For me the best family is an open concept. Read about some very special Xmas dinners here.

Xmas number one?

Straight in

It’s been a tough year,

People gone, times hard,

But how to write that

In a ‘merry xmas’ card.

I think of you my love,

How you make loving fun,

And all I want to be

Is your xmas number one.

Days are short and cold

And the funds are low,

Xmas lists so long,

There’s no sign of the snow.

I think of you my love,

Look, here comes the sun,

And all I want to be

Is your xmas number one.

Music’s on repeat,

Jingle bells on high,

Wham’s 'Last Xmas'

Lasts forever, who knows why.

I think of you my love,

And I need nowhere to run,

And all I want to be

Is your xmas number one.

It’s a drawn-out day

For a lonely heart.

Some can’t wait for the end 

Of the joy to start.

But I think of you my love,

What we’ve done, done, done,

And all I want to be

Is your xmas number one.

RF 2016

Tune anyone? 

Hate Crime

The opposite of brave = hate crime

It’s the land of the free

If you look like me,

If you talk like me,

If you think like me.

It’s the land of the free

If you ride like me,

All the way to the bank, guys.

And it’s just as well

I believe in hell,

That’s where I’m going,

All this hate I’m sowing.

It’s just as well

I believe in hell,

Down, down to the bank, guys.

And don’t you wish your country was free like mine?

Well, don’t cha? Don’t cha?

Terrifying kids and feeling fine?

All the way to the bank, yeah.

RF 2016

Untitled

Pivot

Cry today for our choices that are so poor.

Kill or be killed,

Starve yourself, or others.

What choice is that?

Cry today for our view that is crooked.

Hate because you’re told to,

Because you want to,

Because it feels good.

Cry because your god is bitter.

Love thy inconvenient neighbour,

Not just your family,

Or love is mean.

And cry today because you can,

Because you still care,

And remember what good can be;

It is a choice.

RF 2016

Photo taken from Caterthuns, Angus, yesterday.

Entry number 2

So in the last post I offered my first entry for the Great Trump Inauguration Poetry Competition. Maybe it was a little angry. Maybe it could be misread (largely I was using his voice, or one of his voice's anyway...). Still, I'm going to try and come up with a few alternatives because I really want to win this competition! And like Trump I will say just about anything to secure my win. If I was a hashtag person I suppose I might try and start #Great Trump Inauguration Poetry Competition... maybe someone else will do that. There will be a positive, life-affirming, all come together entry yet to come (I am sure!) but it might take a few weeks. People keep crying on the news, beloved artists keep dying... it's all very inconsiderate.

At least in part my second entry was influenced by this article. And possibly the fact that I keep seeing mention of some shop's TV Xmas ad. (because that's news, obviously...).

The Great Inauguration Poem Competition – take two.

We expect a lot of politicians,

Too much perhaps.

They are only human after all,

If we’re lucky.

We want them to fix everything,

Be plumber, joiner, carer, nurse.

We give them the keys to our castles,

And our cells.

We write them letters,

‘Dear Santa, please outlaw abortion’.

We have our own focus,

And they have theirs.

RF 2016

Photo from 2013, Pennan, Aberdeenshire.