A blog about anything and everything…
Here in Yorkshire
it is not unknown
for a man of my years
to be addressed by
a bus conductor (male)
as “Love” but “Flower”is a
term of endearment
reserved for intimate
family and friends
and “Petal” is reserved
for moments of real affection…
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, lillian in Quadrille
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.
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
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…
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…
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…
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Ten things for which I give thanks this week…
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…
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…
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…
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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
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…
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…
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Speaking truth to power
can be frightening
that’s the whole idea of all those
big men in black uniforms
all leather and shoulder pads
masks and dark glasses and of course
scary looking guns…
(Where do they find such types you wonder
ready to do the dirty work)
Imagine if you dare
this sorry lot in the changing room
at the end of their shift – they will
certainly look a lot smaller out of
uniform and you will then recognise
the usual suspects of High School bullies
And you may feel yourself
to be too small a number
knowing as you do that the one in power
pays no heed to Polls and
if he chanced to think of you at all
he would imagine a very small number
“So very, very small!”
But numbers add up and if you can
share the secret password – K1ndness#
to find like-minded souls
with whom you can conjugate
– like times tables and become
the very thing that fascists fear
“We the People!”
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Lisa or Li in Poetics invites us to write about “Power”.
Hani Mahmoud is starving
his face has presented the afflictions of Gaza
on Al Jazeera throughout the conflict
but now, shrinking like a prune
his face tells its own story
Today he covers the shortage of blood
blood is life and however much iron
Gazans fortified their souls with
there is not enough iron in their blood
for it to be usable and besides
they are too weak to be able
to give blood without fainting
Israel calls a special meeting
of the UN Security Council
to complain about the starvation
– the starvation of hostages
and calls it an act of propaganda!
No doubt there was a time
when hostages were looked after
as the bargaining chips they are
but now there is not enough food even for the captors
whatever sympathy he may feel for
the family member who voices the complaint
and pleads for the return of his relative,
the Palestinian Ambassador ripostes
that Israel is starving a whole people
In other news today
it is eighty years since the destruction of Hiroshima
by a bomb so small that some today dare to classify it
as merely tactical and threaten to use such on their enemies
So much for the “War to end all wars”
and we are come to live in the moral wasteland…
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
I had not watched Al Jazeera news for a month or so, partly because the news about Gaza was moving more into the area of political and world people’s awareness and response, but also I confess to emotional overload. Yesterday, also the anniversary of the destruction of Hiroshima, I watched Newshour on the station and was shocked and upset to the point of tears, to see how Hani Mahmood’s face reflects his own malnutrition as well as the ongoing stress of reporting from Gaza for Al Jazeera. The screenshot above is from a while back, but I urge you to view Al Jazeerah news, not only for its coverage of the genocide in Gaza, but for a different perspective (non-American/Eurocentric) – even their weather forecasts cover all areas of the world…
Tonight, hosted by Björn Rudberg (brudberg), is Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub and so I am posting a link there and there will be a live meeting at 10 AM and 11 AM New York Time August 16th…
would you like to play with me
says one grubby clothed
sticky fingered toddler
to another – no question
of race or status entertained
a playmate is a playmate
to be shunned only if
they won’t share and play fair
playmates with fluffy tails
stride statuesquely on stilettos
around the Playboy Mansion
of one who either likes to
play the field or has
commitment issues or
perhaps just has a
thing for bunnies
my mother gave us no pets
to play with – carriers of disease
she reckoned – except once
she did allow a tortoise
but you can’t play fetch with
a tortoise nor even give them a squeeze
I ache in the places that I used to play
sang Leonard Cohen – he was
definitely a player
play us a song
play with your hair
wrap it round your fingers
like you mean to wrap me too
play with your fan and
send secret signals
play me like a harp
with playful fingers
plucking at heart strings
gently please for I am
still bruised from
previous playtimes
play all night and play all day
play chess like a warrior
play Monopoly to practise
world domination
flirt play
sport play
game play
cos-play
and don’t come home if
you’ve dared to play away
life is not a rehearsal
but they don’t tell toddlers
that, when you grow up
they’re not playing any more
but try to make room
for playing somehow
some day
just to keep you supple
keep on playing…
© Andrew Wilson, 2025
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, sanaarizvi in OpenLinkNight invites us to post a poem of our choice. This poem was written to the monthly theme of my local library group – a small group of poets almost none of whom have an online presence. Keighly Library is one of many in the UK which were funded by Andrew Carnegie the Scottish-born (in poverty) US Steel magnate from the Gilded Age, which presents me with an awkward feeling – he was typically, for the times, exploitative of his workers but then donated huge amounts of money to foster literacy in Britain – grey areas, not black and white.
Anyway, I resolved to try and write about subjects other than the current appalling state of the world and so this topic fitted right in…
