Monthly Archives: August 2010

How poems happen

Nicholas Blincoe questioned on my Facebook page why we take Orwell so seriously, and as I stirred the porridge and tried to frame a reply it came to me, as so many things do, as a poem. George Orwell He … Continue reading

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Passion

The sorrow of his blood upon her lips Salome lies crushed under many shields. Each of her tears, each drop of John’s blood yields rich vintage. We’ve learned from mad girls with whips that passionate destructive wild despair, heard from … Continue reading

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Aubrey Beardsley

Corrupted embryos with knowing eyes carnival masked – their little pouts are wet, anticipating how a thumb applies exquisite pain to nipples. Not quite yet. Bare-breasted woman raddled, on the town again. Her hair’s a mess. Her chin’s like will … Continue reading

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THE PURSUIT OF LOVE

We chase down wet suburban streets in dreams, or grimy corridors. A noise of trains we’ll never catch. And yet we run. It seems the floors are slippery. Outside it rains. That’s why the streets are wet A local bus … Continue reading

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A thought about 1984

None of us know what George Orwell would have believed if he had lived past 47 into the 1980s or beyond. He might have got over his tendency to put women on a pedestal and then lunge at them; he … Continue reading

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And the next composer is…

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart The cracking voice of his last hours alive singing sad notes that Sussmayr took down, ‘Give them eternal rest – give me…’ A frown – he hoped perhaps his music would survive as Handel’s had. It had … Continue reading

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A new Comment is Free piece here on Religious Art, Religion and Art.

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