Sunday, 29 March 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/The Old Woman



 As a white candle
In a holy place,
So is the beauty
Of an aged face.

As the spent radiance
Of the winter sun,
So is a woman
With her travail done,

Her brood gone from her,
And her thoughts as still
As the waters
Under a ruined mill.

Joseph Campbell
Photo of Tante Margot by Alistair.

Sunday, 22 March 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/Threnody



Lilacs blossom just as sweet
Now my heart is shattered.
If I bowled it down the street,
Who's to say it mattered?
If there's one that rode away
What would I be missing?
Lips that taste of tears, they say,
Are the best for kissing.

Eyes that watch the morning star
Seem a little brighter;
Arms held out to darkness are
Usually whiter.
Shall I bar the strolling guest,
Bind my brow with willow,
When, they say, the empty breast
Is the softer pillow?

That a heart falls tinkling down,
Never think it ceases.
Every likely lad in town
Gathers up the pieces.
If there's one gone whistling by
Would I let it grieve me?
Let him wonder if I lie;
Let him half believe me.

Dorothy Parker
Photo by Alistair.

Sunday, 15 March 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/ Villanelle




Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away?
Will time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.

W.H.Auden
Photo by Alistair.

Sunday, 8 March 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/Untitiled



I wish I could drink like a lady
I can take one or two at the most
Three and I'm under the table
Four and I'm under the host

Dorothy Parker.

Sunday, 1 March 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/ My Little One



My little one whose tongue is dumb,
whose fingers cannot hold to things,
who is so mercilessly young,
he leaps upon the instant things,

I hold him not. Indeed, who could?
He runs into the burning wood.
Follow, follow if you can!
He will come out grown a man

and not remember whom he kissed,
who caught him by the slender wrist
and bound him by a tender yoke
which, understanding not, he broke.

Tennessee Williams
Photo by Alistair

Sunday, 22 February 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/I taste a liquor never brewed





I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
When butterflies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler
Leaning against the sun!

Emily Dickinson
Photo by Alistair

Sunday, 15 February 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/Learning



 I'm learning to say thank you.
And I'm learning to say please.
And I'm learning to use Kleenex,
Not my sweater, when I sneeze.
And I'm learning not to dribble.
And I'm learning not to slurp.
And I'm learning (though it sometimes really hurts me)
Not to burp.
And I'm learning to chew softer
When I eat corn on the cob.
And I'm learning that it's much
Much easier to be a slob.

Judith Viorst.

Sunday, 8 February 2015

The Sunday Posts 2015/ Conceit



I heard a winter tree in song
Its leaves were birds, a hundred strong;
When all at once it ceased to sing,
For every leaf had taken wing.

Mervyn Peake
Photo by Alistair

Saturday, 7 February 2015

Changing Paradigms in Education.





No comment or introduction is really needed from me  here. I'd just ask you consider this argument from educationalist Sir Ken Robinson.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

Porage Anyone?

A few lines on why I have started another blog called The Porage Diaries.


If I can really remember I called the blog The Porage Diaries simply because I liked the name. I started blogging on it about my diagnosis of type two diabetes. But it didn't last long. Shortly after I lost interest in talking about that so I took those posts down but kept the title. It's been sitting waiting on me for a long time now it seems.

The last few years have been busy and several aspects of life have intervened to take precedence or more honestly to rob me of inspiration or enthusiasm for blogging. Here at Crivens Jings And Help Ma Blog I've kept it going with the odd piece and regular Sunday postings of poetry. During Scotland's referendum last year I was very engaged with politics and the debate about our future. Some of that found its way into Crivens Jings but I was always a bit uncomfortable. It's a personal blog and although politics is personal it's not what I want the blog to become about. There are times when I would like to write about life or other stuff and I'd like to preserve Crivens Jings  solely for that.

So I'd like to write now and again about politics or share articles for other sources. That's going to be at The Porage Diaries. As a committed YES supporter I was devastated by the result against independence last year but like so many others I have to come to terms with the fact that many people, the majority in fact, could not find themselves convinced by the argument for an independent Scotland. They will have had as many reasons for their decision to vote No as other people did for voting YES. I don't blame them for that no matter how deep my personal disappointment may be or my conviction that it is still the right thing.

When ever something occurred that he saw as a set-back or at the end of holidays when we had to return to normality my Dad would always say "Ah well. It's back tae auld claes and purritch the morn." That's just how I felt after September the 18th 2014. Not that this is a reality I want or am prepared to accept as anything other than a temporary measure, but it certainly fits with my mind-set.

So, if this blog in any way charts the days towards a time when Scotland can be independent or improved within the framework of the UK then The Porage Diaries seems like a perfectly good name for it.

Welcome one and all. Please feel free to comment, argue or disagree but do it politely or I will cut you off at the knees. Comments will be moderated.

Porage anyone?