Yesterday I went to a funeral. A friend’s mother. She was 88, frail, with dementia. It’s a bitter pill we have to swallow, aging, but, as the cliché goes, it’s better than the alternative – although perhaps less so towards the end. As is the way now, there was a slide show of her life. …
Read More...Travelling & the Gypsy Heart.
I was 13 the first time I travelled internationally. It was 1971, Alitalia still flew out of Sydney and smoking was still allowed on planes. People would dress up to fly and it was still a big deal. We winged our way to Rome via Bombay, as it was called then, in a smoke-filled metal…
Read More...Roses are Red, Poetry’s Cool, It’s Not Just Stuff You Did at School.
As we hurtle headlong towards St Valentine’s Day – named after the Patron Saint of florists and Hallmark cards – I was struck by a particular radio ad urging men to spend vast amounts of money on something (obviously not a very effective ad) because “flowers are boring and poetry is lame“. Poetry is…
Read More...Back to the Future: Me, 1972
Oh—-my—-God. I’m in the process of a MASSIVE clean-out of BIBLICAL proportions and I came across one of my English books from 1972. So…. I’m 14 years old – the same age as my son is now – and have written a poem. It’s a corker. You will understand why when you read it but…
Read More...Ode to Facebook (and it rhymes).
Dear Mr Zuckerberg I can’t thank you enough for giving us Facebook and its frivolous fluff. From fabulous felines and marvellous memes to pugnacious puppies and talented teens. From all the lost animals and those that are saved to children angelic and badly behaved. Best friends and selfies and women with tatts to worldwide obsession…
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