Writing Good Poetry is like Riding a Ghost Train

For me, writing good poetry is like riding a ghost train:

You start in the dark and have to wait for your eyes to begin to become accustomed to it. The track isn't always straight and sudden turns spin your stomach. There are things that make you shut your eyes and things only glimpsed that dare you to focus in. You need to be ready to hit things hard and go right through.

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Singing as the Darkness Lifts 13/11/2023 (Episode 11)

Singing as the darkness lifts 13/11/2023 PETRICHOR Me and my brother on a farm holiday when we were little and me and my brother at Bletchley Park more recently. I am a poet who does not like the smell of petrichor. Last night it rained enough to make puddles on the path, so the smell is not in the air. This pleases me. Instead there is a refreshing, just there, note of herb and I learn that fruit flies too are sensitive to that smell of rain on dry ground. When I was at school one of the projects involved counting fruit flies. I do not remember the exact logistics, but think it had something to do with tabling the numbers with different markings on their rears. My turn one lunch time resulted in me wracking my brains for the knowledge I needed when I dropped the lid of the fruit fly housing and some of the numbers headed for the freedom of the laboratory ceiling. I didn’t let my group down, but I do think a fruit fly flew up my nose during the proc...

'Sisters at the Snooker' (Episode 24)

Singing as the Darkness Lifts 19/02/2024 Episode 24 Podbean Link for those who like to listen This morning the air seems to smell of egg nog. Inquisitive, I sniff again. Later, I realise the scent is lifted from my body and is from my shower gel. I wonder how many scents are mingling around me. Alt Text for today’s photo tells us this is: “Two women taking a selfie”, but as me and my sister like to see it this is... “Sisters settling in for the semi-finals at the 2024 Welsh Open”. This was my first time at the snooker and I remember learning most of what I know about it from watching it at my granddad’s house when I was young. It was in black and white in those days and frequently viewed without sound, but I remember the joy of a 147 break and the peaceful way my grandad watched it. When we were walking to the venue, I said to Katie, “I’m really looking forward to seeing a 147.” And she replied, “That’s not gonna happen sis. It’s very, very rare. Although it wo...

'A Blue Apple and An Ammonite' (Episode 28)

Singing as the Darkness Lifts, Episode 28 : A Blue Apple and An Ammonite Podbean Link for those who like to listen This morning I cannot determine what scents are in the air. I have a cold and am temporarily blocked from my observations of smell. It feels a bit strange to not be able to notice so do let me know what the air smells like where you are! When I was little my brother would let me in to his museum for a small pocket money fee. I liked looking at the shells and fossils and interesting finds he had gathered together there in his attic bedroom. He knew stuff about the exhibits. I liked the way they were laid out and the textures and shapes. I also liked spending time in his company and finding out what was new. Amongst the sharks’ teeth I think there was also a large dinosaur tooth of some kind. I remember the shine of the fool’s gold and of the mercury which we rolled across the lino to one another. On Saturday I enjoyed the fe...

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