#NaBloPoMo 5 – Michael Longley interview with Krista Tippett

I feel a great sense of weariness as I look at the current political scene. Domestically, in the UK, we…

#NaBloPoMo 4 – Sowing in fertile ground

I wasn’t always lazy. As I have written before, I think it became a safety valve for me around the…

My friend and I were almost at the end of our hour together. Banana cake (me), almond croissant (him). China…

There I was with my friend, on my second cup of tea. He had just asked me why I do…

You write a blog post every day since the middle of July. It goes fine. But just as you begin…

I have begun to acclimatise myself to the fact that the Book is not coming back. To lure it back…

I turn the radio on and switch it off again, unable to settle to anything. There is still no sign…

There is still no sign of the book. I go for a walk; it is not there. I visit our…

True to its word, the book has disappeared. There isn’t a trace of it in the house, not even a…

‘I think I’m going to be going away for a bit,’ the book says. ‘Give you some space. Let you…

The Half-Finished Heaven Despondency breaks off its course.Anguish breaks off its course.The vulture breaks off its flight. The eager light…

Tracks 2 am: moonlight. The train has stopped out in the middle of the plain. Far away, points of…

‘I’ve been reading Wallace Stevens.’ ‘So?’ ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’ ‘I don’t get it.’ ‘Wallace Stevens!’ ‘I know who…

The way I found out, just as with my diagnosis, was via a segment of a conversation about other things.…

‘I’ve got some good news,’ the book says. ‘I’ve just written ten new poems.’ ‘Wow, that’s great,’ I say. ‘Are…

‘I’m depressed,’ the book says. ‘We can’t both be depressed,’ I say. ‘One of us needs to function.’ ‘Well it’s not…

‘It’s over,’ I say. ‘You’re always saying that, too,’ the book says. ‘Always ‘tired’, or ‘busy’, or ‘giving up’. People…

Last Sunday I attended the last ever group meeting and reading of the Mincing Poets, in Exeter. A classic…