Archive 2016 -2020

Head bowed against siling rain Collar up shielding ears Hat brim a leaking spout Shoes beat a tattoo as He Lowried, Uphill, Cobbled streets. And cursed his need of meat And bread And eggs And milk for tea. A passing car scythed Gutter water Over polished shoes He raised his fist And cursed a curse That, against the wind skirl Went unheard A shopping list Suit out from Wizard cleaners. Perhaps, if he had the ...
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We all take criticism of our work in different ways. Sometimes we thank the critic and sometimes we are cut to the quick by brutal honesty. If I say your poetry’s great Please don’t reciprocate Just say what you think It won’t cause a stink I will not shout or berate If you find my wit makes you weary If you think my poems are dreary If my purple prose Gets right up your nose ...
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The reason I feel so alive, Is ‘cos I learned to dive Between you and me Vitamin sea Is all you need to survive ...
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The piano was unusual. It had lain undisturbed behind boxed cargo. The soiled tarpaulin told of a decade’s neglect. It would have remained undiscovered but for the highlanders’ committed quest for alcohol. Rab Niven lavished attention on it and, from unpromising beginnings, he brought it to life. ‘Gie us The Intermezzo Rab. You ken the wan.’ The small, malformed Glaswegian was a private in the HLI. The audience of mixed Highlanders endorsed the request; everyone’s ...
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The competition asked for ‘A short factual – maybe humorous article about the problems associated with getting older, from a personal perspective.’ Some of the responses were predictable:- aches and pains, losing hair and teeth, failing eyesight, losing driving ability, etc. I wrote the following, and submit it here just to see if I have done things correctly and if it appears in the right place. It’s just possible some of you may identify with ...
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Trapped. Goad 'A'm Hungry, whit A wid dae furra a16 0z steak wi aw the trimmings, onion rings and chips, aw that's whit a could go right noo,”Charlie mused. “Right, ma turn, Cottage pie wi cabbage, loads ae cabbage, wi a salty broon gravy,” said Davy smacking his lips. The lamp flickered again; the pit walls could be seen seeping with water, running down to pour away in a stream six inches wide. They had ...
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The Best? We are surrounded by it, we are forced-fed it: candy-floss sentiments, pink and fluffy asinine clichés, the disposable phrases that bedeck cards and gifts. Like Christmas, there is that insidious pressure to conform. What if she was the source of constant pain, emotional damage the ongoing battle with insanity/sanity. What if she manipulated, triangulated, got drunk on sympathy? What if she wasn’t caring; what if she only wanted others to think she was? ...
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He was fed and nourished from the lives of others having no descernible life of his own. To the cast members of The Rugby Players he was 'Electric John', responsible for Lights, Limes and Spots. The Stage Crew called him 'John' for some unfathomable reason. Being artistic and believing ourselves blessed with a waspish sense of humour, we felt it terribly witty to use such an adjective on a man possessed of no dynamism whatsoever ...
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I sucked the marrow out of the bone of life And make it whistle for me the song of my death; And my death shall lead my life like a mother goose. I begin now at 45, Let loose my tongue, And hurl my words at the world. Through the folly of my fallen body and failing health, I lie because I can, and believe in nothing for nothing’s sake; And I perfume my breath ...
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