I write as I wonder as I wander.

Christopher L Perry

Journey of Words…latest posts

  • on time

    I only have the hours unspentPrecious hoursI will trade some with youFor what I decide sufficientCurrency to make the best useOf the remaining unspent hours~ CLP 10/05/2025 Read more

  • Junction

    Brakes squeakTyres squealWheels skidSirens scream~ CLP 09/05/2025 Read more

  • on volunteering

    that is to say choosingto participate freelywithout coercionnot without food or waterwhile in mortal fearnot while being terrorisedby dronesor aircraft attacksthis ‘voluntary transfer programme for Gaza residents’is a rounding upit is a deportationwithout railwaysit is a death marchin Paris, Lyon, Avignonsome schools have plaquesnaming the childrenfrom Jewish familiestaken from their classestheir playgroundstheir friendstheir teachersby naziswill… Read more

  • On the Pitch

    Serious stuff doneJust one more for charityFor the love of life~ n.b. 6,012 people came to support Alan Knight’s call for funds for three Portsmouth charities supporting cancer patients. ‘Knightsie’ played 801 matches for Pompey and is being treated for Stage 4 prostate cancer. It’s so sad to see him so ill, but uplifting to… Read more

  • on the train

    Stratford Town to Clapham JunctionTwenty-three stations from end to endShopping centre, Olympic parkFactories, flatsBack-to-backsCanals, parks and hospitalsWaste ground, heath landAbandoned buildings, scrapRail yards, football groundsAllotments, gardensEmbankments, chestnut treesFences, railings, hedgerowsTunnels, bridgesUnder, overSeats, signsStreet art, graffitiTags and advertsAnnouncements, adviceAre all the peopleTapping in, tapping outPoems on their phones?~ CLP 05/05/2025 Read more

  • This Charming Man

    Life on the roadNobody quite seems to knowWhere he exactly came fromNor where next he planned to goHappy to moveFrom town to townJust travelling onLiving’ the bluesClarksdale, ChicagoMemphis, TennesseeCatching The CrescentTo New OrleansUp and down the riverAlways welcomed into bedNight was never lonelyWhere Robert Johnson sleptHe traded his gospel singing talentsTo oil his way through… Read more