In The End

In the end we meet finality
Where there is no more to come,
It represents totality
The comprehensive sum.
In summ’ry there’s an ending
To a captured set of thoughts,
There’s a possible extending
Depending on reports.
To conclude requires judgement
Giving closure to a theme,
Brings meaning to a segment,
That may unrelated seem.
. In a climax there’s achievement, a moment of reward,
. A peak of high endeavour, a point of much applaud.

© Tim Grace, 27 February 2010


To the reader: In the vast scheme of things our minuscule stop-start segmentation of time must seem a little trite and unnecessary. Periodic pauses, earth hours, pit-stops, forty-winks and memorable moments form a staccato of stuttering events. The End and it’s relationship with finality is not fixed; all endings are not terminal. We use endings to pause the run of play, to catch our breath, before resuming with new vigor and direction.

To the poet: Shakespeare was endlessly concerned with overcoming the injustice of time and reconciling this with a life short lived. His first three groups of sonnets consider options for achieving perpetuity; not eternal life, but eternal meaning is his desired destiny. Putting ‘The End’ in context is a poet’s lot; why am I doing this? In ‘The End’ is there any defense against the futility of a battle with Time?

Saturated Image

Liquid reflection

A saturated image floats lightly
As a surface level scene.
An occasional glimmer shines brightly
To accentuate the sheen.
From fluid thoughts and wet connections
Comes a deeper contemplation.
A pool of thoughts, recollections
born of liquid incubation.
Still waters give reason to reflect
but shallow is its lasting.
One slip, one drip, and gone is its effect
No image is it casting.
.    The clarity of thought can be swallowed by a ripple
.    Drowned in the disturbance created by a tipple.

© Tim Grace, February 2010

To the reader: Watching the dynamics of ripples in action is fascinating. The way ripples bounce off each other and merge into new concentric patterns is poetry in motion. But the impact of a ripple on a liquid surface breaks the mirror-like qualities. As ripples expand across a surface they blur clarity and replace a perfect image with a disturbed and distorted impression of the form at source.

To the poet: In this sonnet we look through the image to contemplate a deeper thought; there is something below the surface worthy of attention. In delving deeper, the poem introduces the impact of a ripple. One drip and the unity of an image is disturbed. Over time I learnt to separate the writing of the final couplet from the body of the work; often with a night’s sleep. Creating some space in time allows me to step back and observe then summarize the work from a useful distance.


Vagrant Wordsmith

A dispossessed poet has no address?
Vagrant wordsmith finds himself lost for words?
Sunday morning solitude, more or less
A waste land; quarters apportioned in thirds.
Fractional allotments, absurdities;
Occupied tables, multiples of six,
Or four, or two; disputed territories;
Unilateral remedies, far from fix
An awkward treaty. Spaces between lines
Become expansive; attract attention,
Heightened meanings and hollow countersigns
Position the possessed in contention.
.   A poet in the margins, far from lost,
.   Far from desolate, with his words embossed.

© Tim Grace, 24 August 2014


To the reader: If you’re outwardly observant and inwardly conscious the creative mind looks after the assembly of a poem. Once the mind is in-flow with the general gist of a theme it will mix and match its contribution of frames and reference points. That’s all very well, and easier said than done; practice and discipline are critical components of the process – and that presumes a conducive space to write.

To the Poet: Rhyme inducing comfort zones are hard to find, and even harder to keep; context is everything. For years, I’ve sampled cafe cuisines in pursuit of an ideal writing ambience. For the most part, a hotel’s ‘breakfast room’ seems optimal. As a large enterprise, hotels usually offer an affordable option of ‘tea and toast’. With a passing trade, the regular change of clientele constructs an interesting sense of community; notable but not obvious.