writing – Page 25 – don't confuse the narrator

time and distance

I have been sorting out papers and have come across a few poems which seem to have slipped through the cracks when copying from one computer to another over the years: I don’t have copies on the current laptop, and I don’t remember seeing printed copies recently.

I haven’t exactly forgotten them, though, as the title or first line is enough to trigger almost complete recall of the words. This is why I find editing and revision so difficult: by the time I commit the words to writing, they have become fixed in my mind.

When I came across Cousin Grace it was like seeing a familiar face – albeit one I feel could do with a make-over:
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limited access

I took this photo a few weeks ago and loaded it to the blog, then never actually used it. At the time I think I was going to post an idea for a TV reality show: something along the lines of Dressage for Donkeys.

Now, though, under the post title limited access, it also suits the fact I’m away from my computer for the weekend and have to make do with ‘mobile technology’ for the update. Fortunately, although I suppose I could, I don’t have to write the post while riding a horse.

poems, pictures, books, beasts & castles

It’s April 23rd and there are a number of things to celebrate, so, I’ve gathered together some bits and pieces from the blog archive. First of all, it’s World Book and Copyright Day.

So, a book-themed poem:

Underground literature

A spotless Stephen King
sits opposite Dostoyevsky
on the metro. The Russian
looks a little down-at-heel:
his jacket, once expensive leather,
is now worn and shabby. Sadly,
he is only a translation. Beside him,
a paternal-looking businessman
holds tight to Harry Potter, while,
further down the car, a little girl
in a blue frock, frets and scuffs
her round-toed sandals. Defiantly,
her bare arms clutch Lewis Carroll
to her undeveloped chest.

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persuasion

This morning, the sun is shining and the sun is clear. It’s a little windy, but most people would think it was a perfect day to wrap up warm and go for a walk. Here I am, though, sitting at my computer updating my blog with a picture taken earlier in the week.

It was a couple of days ago and it was the first real snow I’ve seen this season. Those wonderful, slow, downy flakes that fall when Mother Carey shakes up her feather mattress.
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I could care less

This week I had to fill in a form to register for a new doctor. Last time I registered was when I returned to the UK after 25 years living abroad; that was a fairly painless process, the only confusion being when they asked for my National Health number and I gave one in a format that they stopped using last century.

This time, although I had the right format number, I had to fill in a ten page questionnaire with all sorts of slightly bizarre questions. The one that caught my attention most was: