Yesterday was the first day of autumn in the northern hemisphere.
Over the years, I have posted lots of poems here on on the blog marking season changes, solstices, equinoxes, the day we change the clocks, meteor showers and other astronomical and astrological events, but since I’ve been back in the UK this has become increasingly difficult: I’m writing less, and I’m far less tied to the natural rhythms of the planet. Continue reading “nocturne”
Last Thursday was National Poetry Day in the UK, so I am feeling very guilty that I haven’t got around to posting a poem to mark the occasion. It wasn’t simply that my head has been too full of wispy clouds to focus. Even on Saturday, a day when I usually post, I was busy, not just with the usual domestic nonsenses, but also preparing to present the guest poets at an evening of readings at the local bookshop and community centre. Continue reading “a little light poetry”
When I told a friend that I’d been looking through old poems trying to find one to send to a competition with the theme darkness, he laughed and said I should find that easy: after all, I write lots of dark poems.
In fact he was wrong. The subject matter isn’t always the most cheerful, but I do tend to find a bright twist to things. Like the owl in the photo – the Midnight Moths owl from Birmingham’s Big Hoot Art Trail – I can’t help but see the stars.
Coincidentally, yesterday I came across the word eigengrau: the colour that we see when there is zero light.
It seems that even in perfect darkness we don’t actually see black: our optic nerves make us see a dark grey instead. Perhaps we should re-name them optimistic nerves. Perhaps I should write a poem about that.