When your preconception about something you are looking at is suddenly and completely overturned, the experience is memorable. This happened to me in The National Gallery in London a few years ago. PLEASE CLICK ON THE BUTTON ABOVE TO HEAR THIS POEM The proof that less is more …
This poem came out of a recent Suffolk Poetry Society workshop, ‘Tree Ring Time- Clock Time’, led by the excellent Kate Foley. I wrote it thinking about the mass of empiric knowledge we have to accumulate in life.
On May 2nd 2012 we took a break in a five-star hotel on Malta to recharge our batteries after a long winter. The first day held a surprise.
Watching somebody start out on the complexity of life’s journey is awe inspiring.
In the Spring of 2010 the wind in East Anglia blew directly from the Artic and the low temperature locked us in Winter. This position held until March, when the wind suddenly swung to blow from the South and swiftly brought us the long awaited season change.
Have you ever had the experience of tapping into vivid memories whilst dreaming, that you could not draw on whilst awake. An experience that teases about the brain’s capacity and potential.
Existentialism or virtual reality, a narrowing choice?
A recent conversation triggered memories of a health scare, but composure was regained with a realisation of scale.
Only in my 50’s did I learn how the goat had got its own back, and mine.
This poem recently appeared on the webzine ink-sweat-and-tears , and is about an event that happened nearly 44 years ago, a moment when unexpected enchantment and beauty produce a merger of the emotional, aesthetic and spiritual.
This poem comes from the time when I was learning how to operate every part of the process in a sugar factory, enamoured with the false idea that knowledge was merely the ability to discover the unchangeable truth behind how things were.
Can you remember that moment in childhood when you realised that your existence was much greater than your experience?
This poem refers to a natural marvel that is currently happening every evening. A particularly spectacular event occured on December 14th 2010, which the poem recalls.
When I was a young boy, my father took me poaching, not for fun but for meat for the table.
By luck we saw a young male leopard in Kruger National Park on October 29th, and Roger Garrison took a great photograph of that moment, which the poem describes.
Jean and I recently travelled in South Africa, and this poem is about an unexpected experience in the Hluhluwe Game Reserve.
This poem was written about a day at Canopy Tower in Panama rain forest in November 2009. Returning to the Tower we were urged to look into the air where over 40,000 hawks and vultures were circling .
A poem for performance at Henham Steam Rally in September 2010, about the power of steam and the reduction of ‘Enchantment’ in our pressurised, high speed modern lives.
The poem links back to a war that ended sixty five years ago, but perhaps the experience is still known to military families.
This poem was written on an Atoll in the Maldives on February 23rd 1991, but the ramifications of idealistic destruction are ongoing.
