
Walking with yon dog with leaves the size of dinner plates…and then the wind blows!
Walking with yon dog with leaves the size of dinner plates…and then the wind blows!
…
West slanted gold tinted light
white and black smudged clouds
scud in from the North along far off hilltops
bringing the grey gathered curtain of rain
…
that sweeps through the trees
on the path in the valley where I walk
thinking of you again
and this thing that invades
…
your brain and your life
without warning from time to time
I listened for several hours
as you spoke of your fears
…
the terror with which you view
the risk that it might return
you now believe it’s as inevitable
as the rain on this Autumn day.
…
Distant dim voices
the sound of laughter
the smell of burnt fat drifts
across the river from the Trattoria
…
I watch leaves fall
hastening the end of another year.
…
©robcullen19102021
…
Facebook is a mystery sometimes
always
reading the class reunion page
in a sort of disbelief
the gushing praise
of a certain teacher
…
the one who’d order me out
at the beginning
of every class
for an unknown reason
knowing though the consequences
if I was found
by the head teacher
was a certain beating
…
it was my best subject
English
she was the new teacher
so to avoid the certainty
of my fate ironically it seems
I hid in the Art room
with the Art teacher’s
quiet agreement.
…
Resistance takes many forms
its consequence uncertain.
…
©robcullen18102021
Verse as Commentary
…
…
…
On the flyleaf I wrote Avenel, New Jersey
twenty first December seventy three –
Rommel Drives On Deep Into Egypt
Richard Brautigan.
…
a Christmas present to myself
ninety five cents
alone along with Frye boots
bought in Connecticut
it had been raining all day
in the night snow fell.
…
Books on the shelves
each dated and signed
negotiate my travels
pinpointing those days
it was a bad year
I’m still affected
by your betrayal
this year talking about it
with a friend
another element revealed
…
The Frye boots lie
in the attics darkness
I have no idea
the reason they stay.
…
©robcullen19102021
Verse as Commentary
…
click your profile picture –
it’s the profile picture in the top right of your inbox
…
the Garden Warbler is rather non-descriptive
but then it sings
…
click add account –
it’s in the bottom left of the drop down menu
…
Chiffchaff the bill is thin and needle like
the legs are black
…
click “more options”
…
Siskin can be recognised in all plumages
by the broad yellowish bar on the dark wing
…
click “create account”
…
the Serin is flushed
with bright yellow on the head
enter your new account information
…
click “next step”
scroll down click “I agree”
…
Kestrel in flight long tail and shallow beats
Of long pointed wings distinctive
….
click continue to….
…
click continue to….
…
click continue to….
…
…
©robcullen22092021
….
this is a love poem for you
…
Love is a story told
in the tight fold of families
told in the cwtch
when you hold
…
a child through growing
love is a beacons
starlight shining through darkness
a closeness no oppressor
…
can out do or overcome
love is its own brightness
when you hold
when you cwtch* a child
…
this is a love poem for you
…
©robcullen24082021
Cwtch* is a Welsh word with no English language equivalent. It is the place in the crook of the arm where a child is held from infancy onward…young babies and infants are held by their mothers using a woolen shawl wrapped in the “Welsh way” which allows both arms to be free. The child is held next to the mothers heart and listens to the mothers voice and much else beside. The cwtch is a place of reassurance and comfort — and love.
…
Love is at the heart of radicalism. Love is at the heart of Resistance.
©robcullen230921
…
…
On 9th March 2020, I suffered heart failure. With a heart rate of 257, I was rushed by ambulance to the Accident and Emergency of the local hospital which luckily for me had not been closed by the machinations of the Health Board bureaucracy.
…
My life was saved. Within four days I had two heart operations and a pacemaker defibrillator installed in a kind of skin flap on my chest linked by wires to my heart. Following the operations on the fifth day following admission I was discharged to home and six months of shielding to look forward to. Followed by a lockdown, a short period of what people called “normality”, followed by another lockdown and before we knew it we were into 2021. The time we found ourselves in could definitely not be described as “normality”.
…
…
In the isolation framed by shielding and lockdown I wrote.
I completed poetry which has been well received and prolifically published in the US. I re-edited my first novel and made good headway on my second.
…
I gardened as best I could…I cooked meals. And walked the hills around my home accompanied with my faithful sheepdog Meg. But most days I spent alone with my wife returning from her teaching in the evening.
…
I also wrote in Journals and notebooks. The following fragments are excerpts taken from my Journals.
It also contains observations, thoughts and early workings and excerpts of poems. These are just a few beginnings.
…
We live on the steep side of a hill
when winds blow in from the North
the days and nights are always cold
this winter and spring
the winds have turned
a cold wind from the North East
not blowing from the Southwest
as they normally do
I saw one Swift caught
by a sudden winds gust
it was my first
of the year.
…
A gale still blows on a spring day
the crop covers bedraggled
blown over the kitchen garden
scattered wherever their taken
…
looking to the house
the smoke from the new lit fire
swirls in the fast wind of these days
white smoke from Ash kindle
new gathered not yet dry
still burns with a bright flame
as Ash will do
a spring day trees fully leaved
open to damage
and these silent “lock down” days continue
…
No jet trails cross skies
in this year of contagion
TV news cast politicians headshots
empty phrases assumed lies
like north westerly winds
there’s no let up or restraints.
…
One book
a replacement
for the lost original
I know not where
last seen it sorting through
shelves of books of lives
not seen in an age
another mystery unsolved..
…
©robcullen05102021
…
The river seethes in its angry boiling rush
brown filled with soil robbed from the land
with each long downpour of heavy rain
and sets its course for reunion with the sea
…
©robcullen05102021
Poetry and Flash Fiction
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Tumse Na Ho Payega
Write what you feel, coz it doesn't make you fear. A doctor by profession and writer by passion✌️
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~{LOVE IS THE ANSWER|HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT}~
…where poems and drawings breathe
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"I have enough time to rest, but I don't have a minute to waste". Come and catch me with your wise words and we will have some fun with our words of wisdom.
You & Your Health
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.