Training in journalism before the 1950s was based mainly on luck. Getting a job at a newspaper, for instance, could be pure chance. After all publishers did not have a permanent post available for any or every bright young spark who popped into the editor’s office. You had a better chance if you lived inContinue reading “From copy boy to the editor’s chair (if you’re lucky)”
Author Archives: Robin
Endymion
by Thomas Kinsella At first there was nothing. Then a closed space. Such light as there was showed him sleeping. I stole nearer and bent down; the light grew brighter, and I saw it came from the interplay of our two beings. It blazed in silence as I kissed his eyelids. I straightened up andContinue reading “Endymion”
As I Grew Older
by Langston Hughes It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun– My dream. And then the wall rose, Rose slowly, Slowly, Between me and my dream. Rose until it touched the sky– The wall. Shadow. I am black.Continue reading “As I Grew Older”
The last days of real journalism
Q. What links Friday; a war over eggs; and coffee? A. The (ig)noble art of journalism. Daniel Defoe, who gave us the tale of Robinson Crusoe, the sailor marooned on a deserted island with only a single companion – Man Friday, was the first well-known journalist. He was also a spy, a pamphleteer, a traderContinue reading “The last days of real journalism”
A Beautiful Young Nymph Going To Bed
by Jonathan Swift Corinna, Pride of Drury-Lane, For whom no Shepherd sighs in vain; Never did Covent Garden boast So bright a batter’d, strolling Toast; No drunken Rake to pick her up, No Cellar where on Tick to sup; Returning at the Midnight Hour; Four Stories climbing to her Bow’r; Then, seated on a three-legg’dContinue reading “A Beautiful Young Nymph Going To Bed”
Love Sonnet XI
by P Neruda I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day. I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sweet laugh, Your hands the color of a savage harvest, Hunger for theContinue reading “Love Sonnet XI”
First Love
by Brian Patten Falling in love was like falling down the stairs Each stair had her name on it And he went bouncing down each one like a tongue-tied lunatic One day of loving her was an ordinary year He transformed her into what he wanted And the scent from her Was the best scentContinue reading “First Love”
Just a Social Girl
by Pam Ayres I’m normally a social girl I love to meet my mates But lately with the virus here We can’t go out the gates. You see, we are the ‘oldies’ now We need to stay inside If they haven’t seen us for a while They’ll think we’ve upped and died. They’ll never knowContinue reading “Just a Social Girl”
Misogyny
by Gwyneth Lewis I see you, great literary men, holding a party Just beyond me. You are loving and greeting Each other while I’m caught in the junk room Of your misogynies: mahogany furniture Shipped from crises on older continents, Is blocking my way. Massive and polished, They shine in the gloom, recalcitrant. Grand LyricalContinue reading “Misogyny”
London
by William Blake I wander thro’ each charter’d street, Near where the charter’d Thames does flow. And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infants cry of fear, In every voice: in every ban, The mind-forg’d manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweepersContinue reading “London”
Robin's Nest 