Today’s poem recognises Saint Columba, the Irish missionary to Scotland about whom much has been said, many churches and schools named and to whom much praise has been, wrongly, given – wrongly because he was just a man. Still, there seems value in looking at aspects of his life and perhaps to take some warningContinue reading “The Dove, the Book and the Black Bear (For Saint Columba of Iona)”
Author Archives: Matthew Pullar
Farewell, Ray’s Summer
(Reblogged from Ideas From the North) On Tuesday of the week just passed, Ray Bradbury died at age 91. Being one of my favourite authors and one of the most significant writers of the last century, I feel that he deserves something to be said about him. Much has, I’m sure, been said already, theContinue reading “Farewell, Ray’s Summer”
The Man Who Saw Summer (For Ray Bradbury)
The Man Who Saw (For Ray Bradbury) While all around him sat inside Locked houses with their screens, He walked, Looked, observed and understood, Smelt flowers, spoke their smell With words no-one had ever heard; Their smell emerging from the page Bubbled and sprang, where all The pictures on the roof-high walls Could onlyContinue reading “The Man Who Saw Summer (For Ray Bradbury)”
Me and the Skipping Girl
From her prospect on that Richmond hill, Her skipping steps look effortless; All neon-lit in night-time glory, She unfolds her rope and dances With an ease that all these stagnant cars Can in their slow, lethargic chug Only ever dream of. Yet in practice, this is how Sluggish legs respond to the Circling demandsContinue reading “Me and the Skipping Girl”
Entropy
The mechanism failed halfway up the hill, Neither accomplishing nor yielding: An exercise in sheer exertion Of pointless will imploding in Its own closed system of grunt and grind. The friction of the system ground The movement to a huffing halt, With dirt and grass coating the wheels That pushed in all directions butContinue reading “Entropy”
Good Deeds and Rotten Oaks (For Saint Boniface of Mainz)
It’s said that he cut Thor’s oak down Before the pagan crowd, The Sacred Oak of Geismar which, When felled, revealed itself to be Rotten and decayed. It’s said he thought his work a failure In the Frisian land, And went back as an old man to Complete what he had scarce begun And metContinue reading “Good Deeds and Rotten Oaks (For Saint Boniface of Mainz)”
Your Eternal Yes
Show me a quietly place in Your sun; Stretch out my lowly side in the soil. Massage my wincing coldness in rays Of blinding, reviving Yes-ness of hope; When sideways and downwards crawling I stand, When soon my backwards is close to Your side, Encircle me; rewrite Your name in my hand. Scratch outContinue reading “Your Eternal Yes”
Falling Face-first
If you should see me on one of these days when my face falls And drops to the ground, baring all that’s inside, You may be surprised by the exposed dust and the grime, But would not, I hope, be wholly surprised. For you surely know that all of us children Of GodContinue reading “Falling Face-first”
Kotanda, Kotanda, Kotanda!
Today is Trinity Sunday. It is also June 3, which is the day when both the Anglican and Catholic churches remember the 22 Ugandan Christians who, between 1885 and 1887, were martyred. Many of them were killed on this day in 1886, which was Ascension Thursday that year, burnt for their opposition to the kingContinue reading “Kotanda, Kotanda, Kotanda!”
The Consolations of Writing 