Saturday, December 9, 2017


My thoughts on that loathsome liquid, milk, have just been published in the Food section of the online magazine LONDON GRIP.


Friday, December 1, 2017

Creative Writing

'And what is rhythm?' asks Janine, as Harry
(big fan of Irvine Welsh) drops into a doze.
Prunella is planning a life of Larry
Olivier but has problems with her prose.
'Ye cannae beat Burns, if ye ask me,' states
wee Tam (unasked). 'I've no time for rhyme, drawls
languid Dolores. 'Deep feeling negates
the need for form,' she purrs, deep in her shawls.
I smile, agree, and introduce the nuts
and bolts of verse, of plot, of dialogue;
and Hadrian's haiku needs a few cuts,
and I don't know a good rhyme for hedgehog.
But, later, slipping homewards in the train
a harp sings soft, unfingered, in my brain.
I was inspired to write this in 1990 whilst Writer in Residence in Stirling Library.
I have, of course, never encountered anyone who remotely resembles any of the characters in the poem. 

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Instance (25)

When the tomatoes
and hard-boiled eggs are eaten
I reach for the prize:
one vanilla-iced biscuit
with a glace cherry - halved.


Friday, November 10, 2017

Instance (24)

The boiler, the wringer,
a huge pot of hankies.
Four flights of stairs,
then clothes poles and rope.
Time now to make the tea.

Thursday, November 9, 2017

Instance (23)

Mother knitting
baby clothes in lemon wool;
the tiny arms
for some niece's child.
'I wish I'd had a daughter.'


Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Instance (22)

On the gramophone
Bing Crosby singing
Silent Night again.
I alternate the needles;
it still sounds the same.


Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Instance (21)

Music and Movement
on the school's big wireless.
We're told today
to be sailors and trees.
I just feel thin.

Jim C. Wilson  Poet
‘A true poet —