-
on Ukraine
it’s no sports eventpeople’s lives are in dangerfruit has to ripen ~ n.b. The Ukraine top security official, Oleksiy Danilov, has been trying to explain to news media, that the counter-offensive against Russia will take time to have a significant impact. He used a typically poetic metaphor about fruit. You can only admire the hope →
-
It’s a goal!
Holes in my socksEnd of season sale shortsA third choice shirtOf several years pastIt’s a bit of a mish-mashBut it’s only for funI’m still playing footballWhile I can still runThere’s no better gameI still pretend to be Andy ColeWhen I make some spaceAnd score one more goalIt might be my last everWho knows what fate →
-
Still writing…
Dear reader, Thank you for still reading. I am still writing… https://spidewriter.blogspot.com/?m=1 Poems, haiku and Senryū will still appear here, from time to time, but there is other writing going on elsewhere. CLP 11/07/2023 →
-
on Ukraine
US cluster bombsfragmented moral high groundindiscriminate ~ n.b. What other disgusting inventions are being picked out of the warehouses of the industrial military complex in the name of freedom? CLP 08/07/2023 →
-
on Ukraine
murder their parentssteal children and grandchildrennot content to kill ~ n.b. If you made this stuff up, people would condemn you as a sicko. Well, this is Russia and consequences of their ‘military operation‘. I note Switzerland is supporting an international air defence programme now. Even the discreet, courteous, stable, confidential, neutral Swiss, who take →
-
Weathering
after countless weeksrain finally cameenlivening the window with shivering streamsthat attracted tired eyesfrom flickering screensa stop earlier than intendedshe stepped off the busbare-headedrivulets formed on her browcoursed down her faceran down her neckunder her blousechilled her breastshe slowed her pacefaced the skyran her tongue tipfrom lip to lipat last, againsweet rain on skin ~ n.b. →
-
kingfisher
we found ourselves at an old creek weary willows draped the banks hornbeam and alder, white birch, poplar cooled our path between pond skaters we paddled beside budding balls of yellow lilies their dank soggy pads, launch points for kinked blue sticks of damsel flies riding tandem cross the dyke flittering by in their clumsy →
Journey of Words 