When life is going well, we do it a disservice by not offering it a small bow of gratitude, not acknowledging the simple happiness of the everyday. Instead, we sail on, eyes forward, unappreciative of the smile of fortune that is ‘nothing much happening’. We are conditioned to believe that good fortune and happiness in … Continue reading Better
‘It’s all well and good, this poetry phase you are going through, but please tell me you’re nearly through it. What’s it all about anyway? All that wandering and maundering. And those ghosts? Are they real? –By which I mean, I know they’re not real, but do you think they’re real? When are you going to get this poem … Continue reading Something Simple
Friday’s vigorous washing and mopping of the stairs in my tenement resulted in me having an exercise hangover. It’s one of my quirks. Some years ago the doctor’s diagnosed me with chronic fatigue syndrome but it has since improved such that episodes like this are, thankfully, a rarity. I’m mildly fit, but fit for certain … Continue reading Fit For Nothing
I’ve picked up a virus. I’ve not just brushed against it, but I’ve bagged it, brought it home, and moved it in. It has been a year, almost to the day, since I’ve felt like this. Maybe it’s to become a fixture – clear the decks for the February-flu. Everything in my brain is hazy. Like driving … Continue reading To Weep
“I had no idea you were so melodramatic,” J. said to me on the phone last night. “You are so measured when we talk through things, but when it comes to you feeling poorly, suddenly it’s the end of the world!” My mum laughed, “she’s got the measure of you alright,” as she reminded me … Continue reading Go Slow
I need to laugh. But I don’t have the energy because I’m still sick. Although they do say that laughter is the best medicine. If it were in a box or container beside my bed like the Paracetamol, the Vicks, the Brochco-Stop pastilles and the Echinacea drink, then I might take some, but I can’t … Continue reading Curative Smiling
Sickness has descended. Upon my body. My brain’s foggy. Words escape me. Can't think straight. Not long ago. Read a story. By Colum McCann. Fabulous Irish author. Highly recommend him. Cleverly crafted sentences. Each three words. Unless I’m misremembering? Might try it. Especially when sick. Easier on brain? Don't think so. Feels too hard. Giving … Continue reading Cloak Of Fog
My Edinburgh Press 