Nice Matin
Photo Eric Ottino

Nice Matin
Photo Eric Ottino

Our cocooning becomes oddly normal. We are a household of seven including three grandchildren, two teachers who work online each day, and two “oulwans” who mind children and write an assignment for the Masters.

Along with this, meetings and workshops become virtual. Poems spread across the web, ideas travel from mind to brain to arm to pen to paper and to screen.

To date, 12 million people contracted the virus and 550,000 have died across the world, a world that did not understand what was happening and did not know what to do. It is how pandemics work – fast, deadly, and out of control. It hurts our vulnerable populations and their carers worst of all.

Washing over all of that came Black Lives Matter, the bursting alive of a long history of inequality against our black communities across the world. The tinder for that was the outrageous murder of a black man by a white police officer on camera.

Thoughts like these can send a body to the bottom of the pit quickly. An antidote helps and may even be necessary, some healthy dissociation to get through the day.

Here is something totally disconnected from our current situation. Read, enjoy, pass on, send feedback.


            Pleasure in itself cannot give our existence meaning thus

            lack of pleasure cannot take away meaning from life

                                                            Victor Frankl

Pavlova topped with strawberries, plums, grapes,

your clear skin under the palm of my hand


Grandchildren’s early morning jump on our bed


Mozart Soave il vento Cosi fan Tutti, Puccini

Addio La Boheme, Verdi Ave Maria Otello


The three-hundred-year-old oak tree that we hug


Mahler’s second symphony in Edinburgh

Shostakovich chamber music in the late evening


Pints with classmates, laughs and poems


Opening night of Twentieth Century Coward Peter

Shaffer’s Equus the college production all those years ago


Summer morning in the garden of a

bunker apartment in France


Peter Clarke

8th July 2020


Leo Smyth

11.07.2020 17:22

A kaleidoscope of memories, firing on all senses, now senses in search of sense, a troubled psychiatrist seeking sense in a senseless act.....You made a hell of an impression with that one, Peter


09.07.2020 18:01

Oh god, I remember Equus too. I grow old, I grow, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.............

Anne Gilleran

Excellent Peter, I too remember Equus with a certain PD

Margaret Dromey

09.07.2020 13:44

08.07.2020 20:25

So much to appreciate each day. A lovely piece. I do remember that performance of Equus long long ago!


08.07.2020 11:53

Beautiful! Thank you for reminding us to treasure all those precious moments. I have to disagree with Mr Frankl on this one!

Latest comments

25.11 | 22:15

Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.

07.11 | 11:14

Hi Peter,

A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there



06.11 | 16:24

A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.

06.11 | 15:59

Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.

In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.

Share this page