Philosophy for life
Yorkshire Pud
God’s own food
From his very own county
Filled with gravy
Really tasty
Kids a bit doubtful
Until their first mouthful
Get through a plateful
And for once are grateful
Can we have them again?
Next time can you do a tray full?
A morning of baking and cooking rounded off with sausages, Yorkshire pudding and gravy. Perfect. And an unusually appreciative audience.
On a misty morning
With the kids in the car
Turning left
The surprise of a huge sun
Low in the sky
A silver gold blob
Just too bright to stare at
Not too bright to blind
Heralds
An emergent phenomenon
Not easily had
Coming into being
In my busy head
Happiness
More than a brain state
A life lived instead
Myriad things
In work at home at play
To bring together
Before it is found
Easily lost
A single moment can confound
But in simple pleasures
Doing the right things
Caring for people
About things
And oneself
Happiness shines
At times
Just too bright to stare at
Not too bright to blind.
I talked to a taxi driver today – an old man and a nice one. He revealed he studied art a good many years ago. Very much against the odds on a scholarship, he went to the art school at the bottom of our road – near where he was taking me.
He said other cabbies sometimes mock when he says he paints, but it brings him great peace and satisfaction. I owned up that I’ve started writing poetry too. We found ourselves kindred spirits. It’s not always the winning, it’s often the taking part with art. This poem refers to yesterday, but some of the warm glow spilled into today’s conversation.
Wobbles
Bike and scooter
In the boot
Me and the boy
Off for a scoot
He’s a bit wobbly
But getting the hang
Of his shiny red bike
Until he has a prang
The distraction of pals
Takes its toll
Adverse camber
Yields a painful fall
It means a sore elbow
For my little friend
Tears and a hug
Pull him together again
He gets back on
Then pedals slowly
An ice cream pit stop
And he’s weaving home boldly.
Snap, Crackle & Pop
Scarcely awake
And a request to bake
Inspiration strikes
Rice Krispy cakes
Sweet and simple
Lots of sprinkles
Helpful daughter
A satisfied customer.
Massed commuters
iPods on
Wave of ignorance
Marching along
Poor old cyclist
Trying to get through
Smacks into one of them
Minor to-do
Felt for both of them
Embarrassed and hurt
But the ignorant pedestrian
Should feel worst.
Not on my bike today, I observed a nasty bump as commuters spectacularly ignored a truck and a bicycle as they surged across a road. Groupthink, ‘me first’ and headphones to blame. Reasonable accommodation fell – along with the cyclist – by the wayside.
Artificial light
Glittering goods
City folk
And ordinary bods
Expensive calories
And consumer excess
People walk at you
Through hunks of metal
Steel and glass
Artificial climate
Escalator rides
Look out the window
Drizzle outside
Holes in the ground
Building on every acre
A miracle of mammon
Flattening nature.
Every time I go to Canary Wharf I feel a strong sense of alienation. I had a meeting there today. I worked in Docklands when it was a building site, in the 1990s as Canary Wharf went up. On the face of it what’s not to like? Efficient high quality office and retail space on reclaimed land.
I can’t put my finger on it, but something feels wrong. It’s like a glossy ad or the guff you read in an in-flight magazine. Lifestyle, grooming, money, power and status and posh nosh. It lacks the class of New York or the crush of Hong Kong. A soulless place.
Achilles & Aristotle 