illuminating moments

The sunrise streets
are hammered gold
while mundane city bylaws
 gleam
with transient enlightenment

Not for the first time, I am reminded that much of my poetry is centred on the visual and heavily influenced by the quality of light.
Continue reading “illuminating moments”

nocturne

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”

the dark side

I’ve mentioned before that, although I don’t mind dealing with negative subjects, most of my poems and other writings are optimistic in tone.

So, as I noticed that I’ve recently gathered a number of photos taken in the dark, I thought I’d pop back to the dark ages today:

Shakespeare's House, Stratford-upon-Avon, by night Continue reading “the dark side”

dusk

When the sun goes down on a clear day, there’s a very special kind of light – neither daylight nor moonlight, but somewhere in between: the two lights that meld into twilight.
Continue reading “dusk”

enlightening and entitling

Christmas lights

I mentioned a while back that my poetry is full of references to light, whether it’s fireworks, stars, moonshine or street lamps, so I suppose it’s unsurprising that, however little attention I pay to Christmas in other respects, I enjoy seeing the festive lights and decorations around the streets and in people’s windows.
Continue reading “enlightening and entitling”

a little light poetry

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.

wispy cirrus clouds and vapour trail
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”

light relief

Midnight Moths owl: Birmingham  Big Hoot Art Trail. Artist: Alyn Smith
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.