I tried to resist, but the thoughts struck me, and some of the words, none of which I used in the end. A poem about the Olympics. About watching it, I guess, because what else I can write about?
Continue reading Backing
But I HATE Sebastian Coe!
The Olympics haven’t even started yet and I’m already sick of hearing what a triumph they are. I’m also being told, constantly, that I should stop moaning. Not directly, that would be rude, but indirectly. The time for cynicism is over, say the pundits. The enthusiasm for the Torch Relay has silenced the naysayers! Boris bloody Johnson, a man whose mouth should permanently be stuffed with footwear, told us that it was time for critics to ‘put a sock in it’.
Judging a book by my covetousness
Strike
Written, partially, on the walk to work during a recent bus drivers’ strike. Tweeted as a short poem on Friday, refined to this on the Monday. I say refined. Elongated.
Popped from my shell;
by action struck
out of a self-made bubble.
Forced to walk ancient paths
made modern, by face alone,
and modern roads burned
by history’s glow.
Continue reading Strike
Present tension.
Everyone is double-income now.
We can’t afford the past.
Milk and butter
Milk and butter,
a flowing flower carpet unwinds
beneath confidently stumbling tread.
Bacon.
Thanks to @NathanHuman and @Orbette
Notes,
studied on the refrigerator door.
The cold hum,
drowned
by breakfast’s gleeful crackle.
Continue reading Bacon.
To be a poet
How wonderful,
I think,
To be a poet.
To move from town
To different town,
Each night to be ignored
Over indifferent tapas
In the bar of some
Chain arthouse cinema.
Tree Fu Tomboy.
A new show has started on CBeebies, Tree Fu Tom. Yes, yes, dyspraxia, all very worthy, but look at it from the point of view of a regular viewer. Another cheap-looking CGI show (I’m sure it’s not that cheap, but I expect it’s not expensive), another male lead.
This prompted me to ask Twitter to name CBeebies shows where the lead was female. Dirtgirlworld and Everything’s Rosie came up very quickly, and 64 Zoo Lane. All solidly girl-centred. Charlie and Lola. Well, I’m not so sure about that – yes, it’s mostly about Lola, but they share equal billing and Charlie is the narrator. Then the suggestions moved to Nina and the Neurons, Same Smile, Come Outside, I Can Cook (oh, you can see where that’s going) and Balamory. Notice anything about those? Not girls, women, and generally quite mumsy women, helping you to learn.
Naming convention
Disclaimer before we begin: I’m not a real writer, I’ve never been published. I’m not an authority. I just have Opinions. Also, none of this applies to sci-fi or fantasy, where you can really just go crazy with names (although getting those right is a whole other post).
Names are important. The final act of Arthur Miller’s magnificent The Crucible hinges on John Proctor being unwilling, almost unable, to put his name to a confession because it would mean signing away its integrity. In the end, he chooses to hang rather than lose his name. It’s allegorical, of course, but the point stands. Names are important.
Continue reading Naming convention