Author: humanist55

Finding Happiness

humanist55

The pursuit of Happyness
is not a straightforward path
signposted clearly for each of us
to follow to our heart’s content

Stumbling on happiness
is nearer the mark – a series of
Happy Accidents amidst the
inevitable unhappy stumbles

One person’s happiness
is another’s purgatory
so distrust universal guides
like The art of happiness

Happiness cannot be regulated
and a Ministry of utmost happiness
would never dare be adopted by
any government for fear of failure

to meet the metrics and achieve even
More happy than not let alone promise
a triple locked happiness
quota for all…

Happiness is a choice asserts
Neil Kaufman but try telling that
to one who is not
Stumbling on Happinesss

and can happiness be described
without reference to it’s opposite
The Happy Prince is a tale that
will leave you moved to tears

So when you find your own source of
happiness, don’t proselytise for it
to be universally adopted but
carry your flame wrapped in your heart…

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Punam – paeansunplugged in Poetics, Uncategorized, invites us to write about Happiness and offers a series of titles which we may choose to use one or more of – not wanting to make any of the authors feel left out and unhappy, I went for all of them…

1.The pursuit of Happyness by Chris Gardener

2. Happy Accidents: A memoir by Jane Lynch

3. The ministry of utmost happiness by Arundhati Roy

4. Stumbling on happiness by Daniel Todd Gilbert

5. The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde

6. The art of happiness by the Dalai Lama

7. More happy than not by Adam Silvera

8. Happiness is a choice by Neil Kaufman

Health Conscious…

humanist55

Give me not statins
those white little pills
give me good greens
let me not eat too much red meat
whose production decimates
our blue marble planet
white meat takes a lesser toll
I will not eschew the yellow yolks
of eggs and go full vegan
limited to the orange, brown
and greens of lentils
the gold of grains the
white of rice and others
of the blond grasses
but let me sway more
in their direction
– to healthy balance
whatever colour that is…

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Laura Bloomsbury in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft, invites us to write a poem with a colour motif and optionally, an Imagist poem.

  • take one or more literal colours (not a fancy colour name)
  • repeat the colour word(s) throughout the poem (e.g. refrain; anaphora, epistrophe)
  • use colour synonyms
  • employ colour with its specific meaning to the poem’s theme
  • let your colour motif(s) also become symbolic
  • Your poetry style is optional but you may want to experiment with Imagism. If so these are the guidelines:
  • Use language of common speech. direct and economical, using common words and phrases.
  • Embrace free verse. Disregard poetic meter but rather, focus on the rhythm of your phrases
  • Your choice of subject should reflect real life

The Last London Smog…

humanist55

Three years before I was born, my parents drove to London only to be wrapped in the yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, the last London smog – born of ten million coal fires insinuating their smoke into the streets and passageways and parks – those lungs of the metropolis – fog turned to smog -mixing its sulphurous poison with fumes from the growing tide of motor vehicles to burn the lungs of the pulmonarily challenge – trees recoiled and people died…
A fog so thick my mother had to walk in front of the car waving a torch – a fog that recalls Dickens’ opening to Bleak House, and at least there weren’t motor cars in his day, but this twentieth-century fog too far, sealed the fate of future smogs by ushering in The Clean Air Act and the advent of smokeless fuel…

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

Police officer with a flare. Source: Public Domain. From The Story of the Great Smog of London

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Björn Rudberg (brudberg) in Prosery, invites us to write a piece of poetic prose in exactly 144 words to include a line from T.S.Elliot’s poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” – “The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes”. This recalled for me, one of my Mother’s stories about driving to London in 1952 and encountering the last great London smog…

07 September: Ten Things of Thankful

humanist55

Ten things for which I give thanks this week…

1 – Our Olive tree seems to have set the majority of flowers – whether they turn into lovely black olives remains to be seen but there are far more, potentially than last year…

2 – We were loaded up more or less according to schedule to depart for our holiday in Cornwall – and no, there is no kitchen sink in there…

3 – Grateful to our neighbour opposite for agreeing to water the garden (containers) whilst we are away – the Rhubarb is the bellweather – I hav e never tried to grow Rhubarb in a pot before and it has grown so much this year, after already being repotted once, that I think it will need an even larger pot for next year. It started from a fragment of plant that came away with a stalk I picked two years ago! It has wilted several times with this years heatwaves but has perked up within the hour after being watered…

4 – Gratefull not to have been travelling an hour earlier when a serious accident happened en route for the motorway at a place where, stuck in the queue waiting for it to be removed (took another hour) we could do nothing but chat to other drivers and I took this picture of the landscape. There was no alternative to waiting, no lanes that could be used to bypass the incident – es la vida…

5 – Glad to have been once more passing surely the best motorway service station, possibly in the world! Looking like some ancient megalithic structure embedded in the landscape, this service station is a Farm Shop selling amazing artisan breads and cakes, fruit and wholefood goods. I bought a Sourdough loaf which will last our first week on holiday, apples and a Pistachio cream filled Croissant…

Even the Fuel Station is different from usual…

6 – Glad that this is the season of native English apples and here is my favourite a Discovery apple. The intens red of the skin permeates the flesh inside – and the taste – well, this is to other apples as Champagne is to other wines! Sadly, supermarkets favour apples that last longer (at the cost of less taste) and have their supply lines set to a steady flow of foreign apples – so all the more reason to savour English apples when they are in season and you can manage to find them…

7 – We arrived at 9 o’clock at night after an epic 12 hour drive and this is the little garden at the back of the static trailer. The approach to it is not very prepossessing – a building site! But the accomodation is nice if bijou and there is a stream flowing alongside which gives a constant gurgling soundtrack…

8 – On the other side of the wall is a disused China Clay drying works since we are on the outskirts of St. Austell, Cornwall, where china clay mining has been an industry for a long time supplying clay for uses from toothpaste to glossy paper…

9 – It is raining this morning but we are on holiday so es la vida! (That’s life!) We shall just relax and go with the flow…

10 – We had chip butties for lunch yesterday – how decadent is that!

I hope you are all living your best lives too and if you want to join in – click the link below…

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

https://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=c0efdbe6b4add43dd7ef

30 Aug: Ten Things of Thankful

humanist55

Ten things for which I give thanks this week…

PYO Wildflower Meadow near Helmsley

1 – Glad that my partner and I made another trip and managed to reach Whitby, or rather the adjacent beach at Sandsend. On the way, instead of stopping for coffee at Helmsley, we found this Pick Your Own Wildflower meadow where you can also get coffee and cake…

2 – This week’s texture for graphic work – woodchip path at the PYO – one day I will show you how these textures come in useful…

3 – Grateful for the sea whose presence and waves are varied but always there to provide a sort of meditation break from the affairs of men…

Sandsend is a popular surfing spot in the new world of cold-water surfing (who wants to hang out in Hawaii anyway – grab your wetsuit boys and girls…)

4 – Grateful that the Spider Orchid Lily bulbs I added to the garden this year have finally flowered – nothing to do with spiders and not orchids either…

5 – I collect odd bits of detritus to use in collages – this one (probably a piece of gearing from a Bradford Mill or more prosaically a piece of a car engine) is a bit chunky but it reminds me of the 30’s Sunrise motif…

Somewhere in Wiltshire from a sketch I did at 17…
Yorkshire moors between Oxenhope and Hebden Bridge

6 – There is but one Painting/Poetry Postcard to go after this – I am replying to the “bonus” cards sent by participants to the International list (as opposed to the majority US lists) of which five included their names and addresses and so though, under the terms of the PoPoFest, one is not obliged to reply – these guys were obviously hoping for one – in fact one was on my list in 2023 – so I decided to press on with the paintings. I was particularly pleased with these two which are acrylic on paper, because I achieved the sort of looseness of touch that I seek but don’t always find – this may be a result of doing 35 paintings in about 5 weeks…

7 – Glad that a friend of mine who has been struggling with having terminated an unsuitable relationship is getting back to herself…

8 – Grateful that our holiday in Cornwall is only 5 days away and I hope the change of scene will do us both good…

9 – Glad that the apples I scrumped are ripening nicely without loss and that Discovery apples – my favourites – are coming into their all too brief season – it will be Egremont Russets’ turn next…

10 – Glad that dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night gave me the chance to post an unprompted poem of a tender disposition which made a change from the angry poems I find I have to write in these difficult times – you can read it here.

Have your best weeks ever – be your best selves…

Why not tell us about your Ten Things o Thankful…

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Kiss Points

humanist55

Buy a proper bread roll
and it will have flat, crustless sides
where it swelled during baking
touched and melded with its neighbour
though not so hard that it
could not be separated
– bakers call this the “Kiss Point”

Do partners’ bums whose owners
both turned their backs to sleep
from argument or mild estrangement
– softly reach out to gently flatten
and warmly kiss their loves behind
baking a fresh start into
each beautiful new morning…

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

Kiss points in bread rolls courtesy of Christie the Baker

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Grace in Poetics invites us to post a poem of our choice. As a salve to all the bad news and hatred in the world at present, which even we poets must do our bit to suppress, I offer you this gentle poem of coming togetherness…

22 Aug: Ten Things of Thankful

humanist55

Ten things for which I give thanks this week…

1 – Glad we found the perfect spot for these carved Elephants in a corner of our winding stair – we bought it last year in the market in Dieppe whislt on holiday…

2 – This week’s harvest/scrumped apples and plums plus Blackberry and Apple jam and Apple sauce. – I say scrumped but the apples and plums were eithe wild or hanging over a wall into the public domain…

3 – Grateful that the fern I placed in this lovely Macramé plant holder, is finding sufficient light to thrive. The Macramé was a gift from our son’s crafty girlfriend – Yayyy the 70’s…

4 – Grateful for the cards I have received through the Postcard Poetry Festival – the ones on the left are from my list – List 4 and on the right are the bonus cards from the International list. Everyone wants to send to a person outside the USA so they publish an International List – there is no obligation on recipients to respond to these but most include their address so I gues they are hopeful of a return card and I will not disappoint…

5 – Glad that I finished and sent the last of my official PoPoFest cards – this one to a lady in Dublin, so I decided to paint Ben Bulben in Sligo where we lived for 10 years for which I am also grateful…

6 – After a week without rain and with watering by hand at 100litres a pop, I was glad to see a little drizzle today (manifested on my windscreen) – enough to moisten the leave though I had to do a proper watering testerday…

7 – Can you guess the texture I spotted this week (useful for backgrounds in graphic work)? It’s a towel drying on the washing line…

8 – Glad that my partner has managed to get up and see her best friend locally, followed by a haircut in advance of our holoday njext month

9 – Glad that my working week is over but grateful to still have a job 2.5 days a week…

10 – Glad to have found this list to do each week…

I am new to this – my second week but in these difficult times it seems an excellent thing to have to focus on Ten Things of Thankful each week…

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!
Click Here to Enter!

Ubi Sunt

humanist55

Where are the days of our young passion
Where are the parts participated
In more than some or other fashion
In fact, in lovemaking delighted
Where are the springs in our eager steps
Crossing the threshold of our new doorstep
Painting our very special bedroom
Yet there it was came the cloud of doom
From early, unknown trauma, came down
To settle like blight on our good life
Occasional sunbeams and some strife
Now forty years and more gone around
Where are the lovers are they still there
Still searching for sunbeams, loving pair?

This is a carving I made for my late sister and brother-in-law for their wedding present – it is based on a drawing by Eric Gill.

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

Over at dVerse Poets pub,  Laura Bloomsbury in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft invites to write to the question UbiSunt… Where are they 0r Where oh where?

Title your poem with the question – where are the/they…
Use the questioning within your poem, even with repetition
DO NOT ANSWER it though – the questioning is rhetorical
Employ concepts of mortality, the transience of life, a sense of nostalgia
Suggested themes: Childhood; Youth; Lost Generation; Days of Yore;
Employ whatever poetry style of your choosing from free verse to sonnet

A House Upside Down

humanist55

Our house is upside down
in more ways than one…

I wake in “my” bedroom
also my dressing room and study
to my right, from a huge shelf
hang my unenclosed clothes
a subdued rainbow – a male palette
with chests of drawers beneath
for more clothes and craft materials

Two bookcases bracket the bed
their shelves double stacked
with precious books and on
a pile of storage containers
my to-be-read are perilously perched
next to my desk – the space beneath full
four ukuleles lean against a bookcase
yearning to be played
one shelf above them
loaded with music

The ceiling is high since
horses once resided here
and through the window
our cobbled yard is packed
with plants and trees in containers
their aspirations to growth
also kept contained
Mock Orange, Olive and Winter Jasmine
now struggling with alternating
Yorkshire rain extended and
sun and wind induced drought

Rising I go to the spacious
though windowless bathroom
also given grandeur
by the high ceilings where
I had to lower the light
for effective illumination
and after some time checking
emails and doomscrolling
on the throne
I shave and brush my teeth
before breakfast
as per the latest thinking…

I look in on my partner asleep
at last, in the other large bedroom
where I began the night
falling asleep as she listens
to her talking book and enjoys
moments of snuggling up to my back
safe now the day is over
cut off from the world
by an evil disenchantment
forced to lie in bed like Brian Wilson
she may be asleep now but she knows
I am here and will feel safer for it…

I climb the winding stair
to the living area
once the hayloft
where two doors into open air
allowed the rapid transfer
of horses’ hay at harvest-time
Now made safe with Juliet Balconies
from which we can survey
the backstreet below or
the strange sight of our
garden yard seen from above
at night all a-twinkle with
sun-powered magic

The landing at the top of the stairs
is a library where recipe books
compete for space with novels
and therapy books and all open-plan
blends seamlessly into dining table
kitchen and sitting room
all traversed by a great King-post beam
in the centre of a roof rising
to twelve feet above me
I breakfast to the awful news
from Al Jazeera garnered
from around the world
and enough to make me as
depressed as my partner
if I were not able
to take action in polemic poems…

And so I descend to my study
and open the computer and work
at what the day provides
en route I note the cobwebs
and dust on the stairs
and when they get too bad
I will sweep them away
but not today
our house is upside down
in more ways than one…

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Melissa Lemay in Poetics invites us to write a poem “wandering from room to room like a man in a museum.”