Seed of Creativity

A quote from Dubliners by James Joyce in “A Little Cloud”

A light began to tremble on the horizon of his mind…

He tried to weigh his soul to see if it was a poet’s soul. Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy.”


Quote from Dubliners by James Joyce in “Two Gallants”

“He thought how pleasant it would be to have a warm fire to sit by and a good dinner to sit down to. He had walked the streets long enough with friends and with girls. He knew what those friends were worth: he knew the girls too.

Experience had embittered his heart against the world.

But all hope had not left him. He felt better after having eaten than he had felt before, less weary of his life, less vanquished in spirit.”

The day the war began

The day the war began

Seasons framed in reflection
Of my bedroom window view
In the mirror
I see me in all my bedding
Hair awry, face unkempt
Illuminated by the backdrop
Of the cherry tree
Telling me how long 
I’ve been sitting here
Since the day the war began
Lying wounded and shell-shocked
Months ago on my pillow
Craning my neck hesitantly
To peer out at the cherry picking
Birds up high buried in leaves
Listening to little voices squeal
Mouths filled with red juices
Delighting eating low hanging fruit.
More recently sitting strong, erect
Arms opening wide the curtains
To feast my eyes 
On the kaleidoscope 
Of fiery leaves still attached
And glowing in the light
As the sun hurriedly sets.
The coolness of the window
View icy grey branches 
Dew upon the buds 
That wait in vain for the frozen
Months to pass.
Teased endlessly by a
Weak winter sun bare lee
Shining on their old
And twisted frame
I feel much the same.
Old inside but 
Growing wise to not
Allow the inevitable
Changing seasons to
Dominate my own
Mind’s window view
Instead, I rely upon You.
To fight my battles with the
Endless foes apply the balm 
to shrapnel woes
Batten down the mind’s 
Battle cry and send the 
Warning salvo’s high.
Relent, relent, face me till
All life is spent.

Pieced together

It was as if a happier place existed

Geographically removed
From the seaborne blues
That swept our lives
And loved ones away
There is no respite from events
They carried on living and breathing
In our minds reenacted, even resolved
In our dreams..
Words such as ‘trigger’ held
Different meanings here
In this broken state they became one
But individually, completely undone
It is a necessary drawl to share
Whatever their minds have prepared
In the week since they last met
Whether triumph or despair
Friendships quickly tarnish
Like a silver teapot from the burden
Of incessant hospitality –
They could no longer see themselves
In the shine of each other’s eyes.
The warmth of the tea turns bitter cold
On their lips after a long-winded session
Of one-upmanship.