Today’s choice

Previous poems

Jim Murdoch

 

 

 

Love is…
…inconvenient. Love is untidy. Love is relentless, ruthless and rapacious.
Done well, it’s hilarious, playful and redemptive – Gina Barreca
(for Carrie)

We don’t decide who we love.
Who we hate, yes,
who we’re jealous of,
but never who we end up loving.

It’s not fate or anything—
that would be silly—
but it is out of our control
and often bloody inconvenient.

But, seriously, what do you do?
Love is like a stray dog
that finds its way to your door
that even a cat person can’t turn away.

 

 

 

Jim Murdoch is a Scottish writer living in Cumbernauld. He’s been writing for over fifty years and his list of rejections is voluminous but he keeps at it. He’s written most things over the years—novels, stories, songs, even plays—but he thinks of himself primarily as a poet and is currently producing poems at an unpresented pace. There are worse things to be doing in your sixties.

Lesley Burt

There’s a house in a suburb of between-the-wars pebble-dash & bay windows, where the soundtrack is sighs, tuts & bellows, the clash of plates & jangle of cutlery.

Gemma Blakeley

My Dad Complains That The Hedges Are Overgrown

and the word bemuses me, implying as it does
the concept of excess in what can only be good.

Nick Cooke

Molluscous receivers, would that you could
turn your talents inwards, and pick up
all that goes on in the cerebral swamp . . .

Siân Bentham

She doesn’t know what she is doing.
She chops and boils, snacks and sneezes, sits.
Classical radio plays, imbuing
the scene with comic dignity and wit.