#NaBloPoMo 10 – I have no idea what I’m doing

A thought occurred to me as I found myself scribbling in a notebook earlier this morning: I have no idea … More

#NaBloPoMo 8 -Try to Praise the Mutilated World

Try to Praise the Mutilated World Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, … More

I have to be honest and say that, in the light of yesterday’s US Election result, I am tempted to … More

My friend Rupert Loydell has emailed me a list of blog posts curated by Rob Mclennan on writing at the … More

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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