
The 10th Muse.
By David Milligan-Croft.
.
A dusting of morning snow,
Covers my car.
I trace a love heart
In the passenger window,
And imagine you smiling
On the other side of the glass.
.
By David Milligan-Croft.
.
A dusting of morning snow,
Covers my car.
I trace a love heart
In the passenger window,
And imagine you smiling
On the other side of the glass.
.
Filed under Art, Books, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Haiku, Ideas, Innovation, Inspiration, love, mental health, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing
That’s Greek for goodbye, if you didn’t know.
At least, that’s what Google translate tells me. It could say ‘f*ck you’ for all I know. Which would work just as well.
Saying farewell to the year in a foreign tongue has become a bit of a custom for reasons I shan’t go into right now.
Greek mythology and the divine muses have been pretty prominent for me in 2022, so it seems quite appropriate.
This year, I’ve managed to paint lots of pictures, visit lots of the Peak District and write lots of poetry. So much so, I’m hoping to publish my second collection of poetry, “Go tell the bees” some time in 2023. (I’ve even been dabbling with a book cover design for it.)
To see out the year, I thought I’d leave you with a few samples of abstract doodling which I’ve been doing quite a bit of lately. It’s a very cathartic and mindful exercise if you want to give it a go. I’ve even tried it with patients on the ward and it went down really well. (Remember, it’s about the process of doing art rather than the end result.)
It just remains for me to say, thank you for visiting my blog, your support is very much appreciated. I hope you have a very happy, healthy, peaceful and prosperous 2023.
Keep being creative and tell those closest to you that you love them.
In the words of the great poet, Philip Larkin:
“…we should be careful
Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.”
Filed under Art, Books, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Education, Haiku, Ideas, Illustration, Innovation, Inspiration, Literature, love, Medicine, mental health, Nature, nhs, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing
By David Milligan-Croft.
.
I have built a special place for you
in the corner of my mind.
Where I can simultaneously feel
happy and forlorn.
.
I go there when I want to be alone
with you. We sit in the shade of a cherry blossom tree.
Scintillating sun flickering through the branches.
Monarch butterflies flit through the air,
as pink petals fall like snowdrops.
.
There is a shallow stream
burbling over rocks, carving through a vale
of lush, verdant grass, abundant
with iridescent wildflowers.
.
Your head is on my shoulder;
I can smell honeysuckle in your russet hair,
feel your heart beating
against my rib cage.
.
Warmth radiates through your skin
into my fingertips. Stroking the soft down
of your arm. Breathing you in.
This is the closest I can get
.
without crawling inside of you.
I close my eyes and feel the heat of our star
on my face. Everything is ecstasy.
And we stay in paradise forever. Or,
.
until it’s time for me to go.
And I leave you there,
beneath our tree, shielding your eyes
from the sun, waving me goodbye.
.
And I go back to reality,
where you are oblivious
to my existence.
.
για τη δέκατη μούσα μου
Filed under Art, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Ideas, Inspiration, love, mental health, Nature, Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing
.
By David Milligan-Croft.
.
Cornelia is 96-years-old,
With skin like crepe paper.
Her chest rattles like a percolator.
Her lungs have more fluid than oxygen.
Her arms are purple
From where they have drawn blood.
She sings between coughs.
.
Gilberto is a nurse
From Sierra Leone;
He loves to sing too.
He has sung in the church choir
Since he was 8-years-old.
.
Gilberto pulls up a chair
Beside Cornelia’s bed
And takes her bruised hand in his.
Softly, he begins to sing
Edelweiss to her.
.
“Edelweiss, edelweiss,
Every morning you greet me.
Small and white
Clean and bright
You look happy to meet me.”
.
His voice is how I imagine
An angel might sing.
Gilberto sings
Until Cornelia’s gurgling stops,
And her gnarled fingers
Go limp.
.
.
*Edelweiss by Rodgers & Hammerstein from The Sound of Music.
.
για τη δέκατη μούσα μου
Filed under Art, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, health, Ideas, Innovation, Inspiration, love, Medicine, mental health, Music, nhs, Philosophy, Poetry, religion, Uncategorized, Writing
By David Milligan-Croft
.
There is a type of landmine
That only detonates
Once you have taken your foot
Off of it.
.
It spares you
Instant disintegration –
Instead, it gives you
That split-second realisation
Of the impending horror that is about
To ascend upon your hapless body.
.
Of course, if you are fleet-of-mind,
You may realise the error of your way,
And keep your weight
Pressed firmly down on the detonator.
.
In the hope that someone
Might come to your rescue.
That they collect rocks
And sticks and boulders – anything
They can lay their hands upon
To replace the downward pressure,
That is you.
.
And that is how it feels
To be in love with you.
To have two choices:
To wait for you in vain,
Or to accept fate
And lift my foot off.
.
για τη δέκατη μούσα μου
Filed under Art, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Ideas, Inspiration, Literature, love, mental health, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing
By David Milligan-Croft.
.
I picked an old poetry book off the shelf.
It was ‘The Art of Life’, by Paul Durcan.
Something about its spine caught my eye.
I hadn’t read it in years.
.
I flicked through a few pages and a photograph fell out.
It was of my daughter and I when she was a baby.
I’m wearing a front-facing baby harness
And she is strapped to my chest,
.
Wearing a white, winter bunny onesie.
I’m holding up her bunny ears
and beaming a smile to the camera.
We’re in Dunham Massey, I think.
.
* * *
.
I go to my daughter’s bedroom – she’s 16 now –
And show her the photograph.
She laughs and we reminisce. Well, I do.
She was too young to remember, obviously.
.
As I’m leaving, I say, ‘Do you want it,
Or shall I bin it?’
Without looking up from her phone,
She says, ‘That doesn’t work, Dad.
.
‘I know you would never do that.’
Then, she looks at me and smiles.
I don’t know why I put the photo in the book
In the first place. Perhaps to use as a book mark.
.
Or maybe, for a moment like this.
.
.
Filed under Art, Books, Children, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Ideas, Inspiration, love, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing
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Beatified.
By David Milligan-Croft.
.
I would wash your hair in a roll-top bath.
You, leaning forward,
Nose almost touching the fig bubbles.
.
My fingers, massaging your scalp,
Your temples, your crown –
You deserve a crown, my Queen.
.
Combing through the conditioner.
The viscous liquid oozing through the teeth
Of the comb and your russet brown hair.
.
Leaning back, I cradle your head,
Lowering you like the baptised.
Cupping the water to stroke away the lather.
.
Your lustrous hair floating on the surface.
Eyes closed, your face framed
In a perfect oval of foam.
.
για τη δέκατη μούσα μου
Filed under Art, Contemporary Arts, Creativity, Ideas, Inspiration, love, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing