A Living Wage For Writers – From A Most UNLIKELY Source

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This is undoubtedly an interesting idea. I note though that it doesn’t apply to my craft (that of poetry), can you hear my deep sigh?!
While I can see advantages to such a scheme (namely allowing writers to hone their craft on a full-time basis and produce great literature), having a job (other than writing) arguably does furnish the author/poet with a broader perspective on the world. Philip Larkin was a librarian while Sir Walter Ralegh engaged in diplomacy, exploring and twiddling his thumbs in the Tower of London prior to an unfortunate appointment with a very sharp implement! The poetry of both men arguably benefited from their day jobs. If, however anyone wants to pay me a good wage to compose poetry full-time I’m certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth …

Tara Sparling's avatarTara Sparling writes

A Living Wage For Writers – From The Most UNLIKELY Source

Sometimes your internet life and your real life meet in the most unlikely ways.

For an Instagram star, this might be when they get caught for Photoshopping in a sponsored tan, and out a dimpled arse.

On Facebook, it might be when you’re tagged in a photograph on the night you swore to your soon-to-be-ex best friend you were not going out.

On Snapchat, it…. Oh, who cares? It’s Snapchat.

My two lives collided briefly this week when I read an article in the Guardian about a publisher which is going to pay writers a salary to give up all other paid employment and write full-time.

Apparently, this publisher reckons that writers can’t get really good at it, unless they can do it without the distraction of having to earn money elsewhere. The Guardian says:

De Montfort Literature, a new publishing company that is part of London hedge fund De Montfort Capital…

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Sphinxes

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You have seen desire
In a lover’s eye
Kindle then die.
You survived the fire
But I know well
That you have no riddle to tell.

Yet had you something to say
To those who pass your way
It would concern
A flame that does burn
Unrequited, for whom or what
I know not,
Or perhaps I hide
Inside the sphinx
Who can see
But will not reveal
The real
Me.

—

This poem was inspired by a visit to Crystal Palace Park, which contains a number of sphinxes https://memoirsofametrogirl.com/2017/01/08/crystal-palace-park-sphinxes-restored-history/

Riding A Mare To Nowhere

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Riding a mare
To nowhere.
The pace is fast
And he
Will Spill
Into the vast
Gulf she
Can not fill.

But the run
Was fun
Was it not?
And he will trot
Again,
Though his heart says “beware
For the mare
Can not take away your pain.
The wise can see
That she
Is as thee”.

Men Surf The Brine

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Men surf the brine.
As a line
Of mermaids throng
The sand. Their song
Odysseus heard long ago.

Many men were lost
For they failed to count the cost
And drowned. Twas always so
And the wise well know
With Sirens not to play
And with Odysseus stay
Lashed to the mast
Lest they drown in the ocean vast.

“The Odyssey isn’t relevant today”
The stupid say
But only look behind
The text and you will find
A very modern tale
Of the sailor who with a mermaid played
And for his stupidity paid.

Each Text Would The Bishop Vex

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Each text
Would the bishop vex
Where he to know
So
Let us draw a discreet veil
Over his daughter’s conversation
Lest he turn pale
And the congregation
Find something other than hymns
To sing. Yet I think
That I see the devil wink.
I hear him whisper low
“You know
The bishop also
Has his sins …”.