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Tuesday, 25 October 2016. So far, the softest of landings. Your sole design, to be left alone, left out,. Or left behind, when the traffic thins. At half-past nine on a workday morning. On a pension,. Time to take thought for a saunter,. Time to write thoughts down. Or, by failure, braced - no freedom. Like it - to highlight, then junk. The latest essay in lost love,. The break having been, in life,. Two scraps of verse, unlikely survivors,. Engross the hour before dawn;. As you had always intended.

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withnakedfoot | withnakedfoot.blogspot.com Reviews

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Tuesday, 25 October 2016. So far, the softest of landings. Your sole design, to be left alone, left out,. Or left behind, when the traffic thins. At half-past nine on a workday morning. On a pension,. Time to take thought for a saunter,. Time to write thoughts down. Or, by failure, braced - no freedom. Like it - to highlight, then junk. The latest essay in lost love,. The break having been, in life,. Two scraps of verse, unlikely survivors,. Engross the hour before dawn;. As you had always intended.

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1 withnakedfoot

2 against completion

3 la vie boheme

4 anything but clean

5 serves until afternoon

6 posted by

7 ian harrow

8 no comments

9 email this

10 blogthis

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withnakedfoot | withnakedfoot.blogspot.com Reviews

https://withnakedfoot.blogspot.com

Tuesday, 25 October 2016. So far, the softest of landings. Your sole design, to be left alone, left out,. Or left behind, when the traffic thins. At half-past nine on a workday morning. On a pension,. Time to take thought for a saunter,. Time to write thoughts down. Or, by failure, braced - no freedom. Like it - to highlight, then junk. The latest essay in lost love,. The break having been, in life,. Two scraps of verse, unlikely survivors,. Engross the hour before dawn;. As you had always intended.

INTERNAL PAGES

withnakedfoot.blogspot.com

withnakedfoot.blogspot.com

1

withnakedfoot: August 2015

http://withnakedfoot.blogspot.com/2015_08_01_archive.html

Saturday, 15 August 2015. If it would not entail. A further falling in love,. I'd write to you again. Instead, I drive as far. As it takes, before I can. Drive back, because it's dark. Or as dark as early summer. All this, to put to bed. A love and loss that's wrong. For us - wrong for the time -. With its genius for the same. Proxy, clone, replacement,. Substitute. You'll find. Another me - just look. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile. Simple theme. Powered by Blogger.

2

withnakedfoot: Against Completion

http://withnakedfoot.blogspot.com/2016/10/against-completion.html

Tuesday, 25 October 2016. So far, the softest of landings. Your sole design, to be left alone, left out,. Or left behind, when the traffic thins. At half-past nine on a workday morning. On a pension,. Time to take thought for a saunter,. Time to write thoughts down. Or, by failure, braced - no freedom. Like it - to highlight, then junk. The latest essay in lost love,. The break having been, in life,. Two scraps of verse, unlikely survivors,. Engross the hour before dawn;. As you had always intended.

3

withnakedfoot: October 2015

http://withnakedfoot.blogspot.com/2015_10_01_archive.html

Friday, 16 October 2015. Cars climb the hill and stare at the sign. Before the long descent. Silhouettes, moving or still,. In cubes of yellow or blue light,. Show what feeling at home looks like. A woman working after dark. Leans a coloured print. Against the gallery wall. As the last, lone, nuisance. Nods at this shadow of a man. A conversation cycles out of town. Tonight, the missing can be seen, almost. Null and void is in season. Traffic-lights fire blanks across the street;. North towards the river,.

4

withnakedfoot

http://withnakedfoot.blogspot.com/2015/11/lesson-montaigne-found-he-learned-lot.html

Saturday, 7 November 2015. Montaigne found he learned a lot. From those inferior of mind. What would Montaigne make of us -. Torchbearers of the second-rate,. Invincible in our belief. Triumphant dimness has no cost? A wise man would be wiser still. 14 November 2016 at 10:52. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. SUMMER LIGHT I knew it was a dream, because he s. LESSON Montaigne found he learned a lot from thos. Simple theme. Powered by Blogger.

5

withnakedfoot: October 2016

http://withnakedfoot.blogspot.com/2016_10_01_archive.html

Tuesday, 25 October 2016. So far, the softest of landings. Your sole design, to be left alone, left out,. Or left behind, when the traffic thins. At half-past nine on a workday morning. On a pension,. Time to take thought for a saunter,. Time to write thoughts down. Or, by failure, braced - no freedom. Like it - to highlight, then junk. The latest essay in lost love,. The break having been, in life,. Two scraps of verse, unlikely survivors,. Engross the hour before dawn;. As you had always intended.

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Poems - Ian Harrow | Poet

http://www.ianharrow.com/poems/4582038496

FROM WORDS TAKE ME: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS. If it would not entail. A further falling in love,. I’d write to you again. Instead, I drive as far. As it takes, before I can. Drive back, because it’s dark. Or as dark as early summer. All this, to put to bed. A love and loss that’s wrong. For us wrong for the time. With its genius for the same. Proxy, clone, replacement,. Substitute. You’ll find. Another me just look. And finally you, his lover/partner/spouse,. To build a slender volume from a grouse. Nods a...

Ian Harrow | Poet | Poetry

http://www.ianharrow.com/home/4574858531

Lapwing Press) appeared in February 2013. He lives in York. Ian Harrow's poems of obsessive love and lost love are strange, stark, profound parables in brief classic forms. They are not consolatory, but neither are they pessimistic because they have what one of the poems calls 'the taste of truth'. When they are painful, it is because reality is painful. Is an utterly absorbing book that stays hauntingly in the memory. It is a major achievement.'. From Words Take Me: New and Selected Poems.

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withnakedfoot.blogspot.com

withnakedfoot

Tuesday, 25 October 2016. So far, the softest of landings. Your sole design, to be left alone, left out,. Or left behind, when the traffic thins. At half-past nine on a workday morning. On a pension,. Time to take thought for a saunter,. Time to write thoughts down. Or, by failure, braced - no freedom. Like it - to highlight, then junk. The latest essay in lost love,. The break having been, in life,. Two scraps of verse, unlikely survivors,. Engross the hour before dawn;. As you had always intended.

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