Tag: poem
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The Keirful Goodbye
With Reeves wiping tears from her eyes,Sir Keir said his final goodbyes.He walked out the door,To a clap from the floor,Beneath the Westminster skies.
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Love, Too, is a Type of Pain
Love is a type of pain,the soft kind;the ache of holding somethingthat could breakand knowing you’d break with it. It’s the bruise of caring,the stretch of becomingbigger than your own skin. It hurts, yes,but only becauseit matters.
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Short Review: The Song of Lunch, 2010 Televisation
In October 2010, the BBC and Masterpiece released a television adaptation of Christopher Reid’s poem, The Song of Lunch, for National Poetry Month. It grabbed my attention right away, at the time. It seemed to me a sharp, funny, and somewhat brutal experiment. The adaptation worked, though. It worked because it leant fully into the…
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Fourth of July
An old charter sat on its pedestal, edges worn from years of hands that claimed to honour it. Lately, a few visitors have begun lifting pieces from it; small ones, easy to pocket, easy to pretend were never there. The pedestal still stands. The room still applauds. But anyone looking closely can see what’s missing,…
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July Tries Its Luck
July wanders in with a swagger. It’s heard rumoursabout what summer should beand is determined to give it a go,even if the clouds have other plans.The mornings start bright enoughto make you hopeful,then dim just slightly,like someone turning the dialto see how much you will tolerate. The air grows thicker,not hot exactly,but warm in a…
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Foxes, Seagulls, and Other Street Prophets
I walked past the takeaway and a man was chanting at a seagull like they had unfinished business. A bus hissed, a fox trotted through the queue like it owned the franchise, and for a moment the whole street felt beautifully unhinged. I didn’t find meaning. I didn’t need to. Sometimes the world just wobbles…
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Shed a Keir
The party machine made that small, decisive click;that indicates when a part has worn down and everyone finally admits it. No drama. Just the quiet swap of one name for another waiting in the wings, already practising its posture. People nodded, half‑expecting it, half‑pretending they hadn’t been waiting. And in that unceremonious shuffle the whole…
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The Constitutional Knot
Parliament’s particularly picky politicians peddle patchy policies with performative precision, while backbenchers bicker in brisk, bitter bursts about budgets, borders, and broken‑bus‑routes. Meanwhile, ministers muddle through midnight memos and misfired mandates, making major matters mysteriously more muddled. Across the aisle, opposition orators offer oddly optimistic options, only to wobble, waver, or wildly withdraw when the…
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The Gradebook of Small Griefs
We came for chalk and the sound of a question landing,for the slow bloom of a student’s face when a hard thing suddenly makes sense.We came with lesson plans like little ships and optimism folded into our pockets,and somewhere between the photocopier and the meeting room the compass got nicked. The salary letter arrives as…
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The Sneaky-Sneak’s Sneaky-Sneak Scheme
In the halls of Holyrood, dusty and grand, Where the leaders all gather to govern the land, There was a great kerfuffle, a hullabaloo, About money that vanished; a million? Or two? “Oh, where is the cash?” cried the people, quite loud, “It was meant for the Cause! It was meant for the crowd!” But…