The sea roars
Flooding barren shores
Then slowly withdraws
Leaving the sand to dry
And gull’s to cry
In the darkening sky
The Sea
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Category Archives: literature
Backup And Backup Again!
Over Christmas I took my trusty Sony Vio laptop to Liverpool with me. Much of my time in Liverpool was, not surprisingly spent celebrating the festivities with family. I did, however find time to write and, as always saved my creations to my laptop’s hard drive.
On returning to London I powered up my trusty old work horse only for the machine to display an error message saying that Windows had been incorrectly shut down. I tried the usual solutions (start Windows normally and when that failed a system restore) but all to no avail. Eventually I took the laptop to a computer repairer I have used previously only to discover that the hard drive had gone to the great computer heaven in the sky where it is, no doubt now whirring away contentedly with other computer bits and bobs!
Fortunately the above story has a happy ending. Although the hard disk had died Graham (the computer repairer) was able to fit a new one and transfer my files from the defunct drive to it. Had he not been able to do this I would, potentially have lost much of my work. Hours of hard slog down the drain!
I had no warning that my hard drive was about to fail. Apparently they can fail soon after a machine has been purchased for no apparent reason, while others can work for years without a hitch. I have owned the laptop since 2011 so had, I guess enjoyed a fairly good run for my money as regards the hard disk.
The moral of the above is to always back up one’s work to somewhere other than one’s computer’s hard drive! Happy backing up!
Kevin
He Will Go His Way
Birds sing
Yet spring
Is far away.
The day
Is cold.
I think of arms that enfold
And do not hold.
The gold
Coin doth spin
And what some call sin
Enters in.
I think of a girl’s scent
Of those who do, and then repent.
I dwell on heaven
O how close ‘tis to hell!
And think it well
To leave the stone
Alone.
Why this desire
To know the secret fire
That in man does burn
And how he doth turn
Away
From the light of day.
He will go his way
Whate’r the moralists say.
On The Closure Of A Retro Shop
The retro
Must go.
A version of the past
Is sold off fast.
Perhaps I will take a look.
Perchance happen upon an old book.
I meant to visit before
But now the door
Will soon close
On retro clothes.
People are interested in the old ways.
The days
When all was right, or seemed so.
The stock must go
For a song.
Before long
Another business will take the shop’s place.
The bland corporate face
Will occupy another space.
We race
Knowing not where we are going
Or what we may be sewing.
Without a feel for the past
The future beccons, bleak and vast.
My First Poetry Reading
I am excited to announce that my employer has kindly agreed to host a poetry reading by yours truly together with a fellow poet and colleague, Toby Wheeler.
Toby Wheeler
The event will take place on 10 February and will be open to all employees of the organisation for which I work. This will be the first time I have given a poetry reading. While I am delighted to have this opportunity, I must confess to feeling somewhat nervous at the prospect.
Please do check out a selection of Toby’s work here (http://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/tobyw). You can find examples of my poetry on this site (http://newauthoronline.com/).
Kevin
The Flower Seller
She stood for hours
Selling her flowers
By Grim towers.
Their scent
Was long since spent.
Their bloom
Was gone to soon.
But still some bought.
Sometimes she thought
Of the bee that does take
And then forsake
The budding rose
Then goes
On to devour
Another flower.
Hour after hour
She saw the power
Of beautiful flowers.
The bees their sweet nectar took
And she was struck
By how the rose does decay
And the bee will have his way.
Touching Words
To hold one’s own book is a wonderful feeling. The tangible representation of one’s endeavours writ large. For most authors the pleasure is enhanced by the ability to read the print editions of their works. However, for me as a blind author (who is unable to read print) the situation is rather more complex. I can read ebooks using the text to speech facility on my Kindle. I can not, however read the print edition of my book, “Dalliance; A Collection Of Poetry And Prose” which sits on the bookcase in my living room. While I still derive pleasure from taking the print edition of “Dalliance” in to my hands, it is not the same as being able to sit in an armchair, flick through the pages and pause at random to read a poem.
I got round the above issue by getting the Royal National Institute Of Blind People (RNIB) to transcribe “Dalliance” from the electronic file held on my computer in to braille allowing me to possess an accessible (physical) copy of my work. Yesterday I sent the electronic file of my latest collection of poetry, “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind” through to the RNIB. I await the braille edition’s arrival with eager anticipation! While I am a huge fan of ebooks there is, in my opinion no substitute for their physical counterparts.
Kevin
Snow
The snow came yesterday.
Ere long it went away.
The landscape it whitened overnight.
O such passing delight!
Will Spring Come Again?
The wood is dark.
The lark
Does not sing.
Will spring
Come once more
And restore
The sleeping rose?
Who knows
But one can grope
For hope
In the frozen ground
And pray for a change profound.
Ball
A child plays ball below.
A long time ago
I lay in bed
The same sound running through my head.
The thud of ball on wall
Is all I recall.
The ball is now still
As evening falls over Beulah Hill.
—
As I wrote this, a child and an adult played ball in the garden below my home. The sound brought to mind lying in bed at boarding school (I was sick), as children played football in the playground below my window. The poem was penned today (as the game took place).
