Ruth McAteer is the joint youngest, with her twin sister, of four kids. She grew up in Milton Of Campsie and now resides in her wee one bedroom bungalow in Kirkintilloch. She began working for NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde in 2001. Her first exposure to political activism was as a baby when her mother […]
Month: November 2016
Remember Ronald Reagan
Remember when Ronald Reagan opened his presidential campaign at the Neshoba County Fair, in the same community in which the three civil rights workers were murdered by the White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan in 1963? Remember when the week before Super Tuesday Ronald Reagan gave a “tough on crime” speech in Stone Mountain, […]
Red Raiph Writing
Poetry Raiph’s Alfybet A poem fur a Inorgerayshun You can see Ralph’s Ungagged Art here
Roy Møller Writing
Poetry Seaside Perimeters Hot Desk First We Take Manhattan
Hot Desk
Hot desk, commandeered, I’ll man you like a cannon on a flight deck, folding, or a guard to take over as hours itch like busbies overheating. Hot desk – I make my slow beginning, dispersing fast food discarded by another facing down the jaws of a deadline. Shared PC – you’re sluggish this lunchtime so […]
Perimeters
Perimeters work at my innards from the edge – of sodium shrubs and the lit-up hedge of the morbid peripheral road. Perimeters wrap sick halos above them, around them silent snow’s undercut by the hum of a huge freezer. Perimeters stab barbed embroidery on faded fabric of undone ordinary outskirts while concentric circles of […]
Seaside
We’ve all weathered blustery seaside in the company of people we no longer talk to because of loss or one of our choices. That’s what the waves hit the sea wall for.
Roy Møller
Roy Moller was born in Edinburgh on 3rd July, 1963. Conceived in Toronto, adopted and raised in Leith, he attended Strathclyde University, where he won a poetry prize. He promptly put writing poems to one side for 25 years to concentrate on songwriting, singing and playing the guitar in singular dyspraxic style. A long, chequered […]
CREATE YOUR OWN SYSTEM
Is it just me or does the shit seem to flow one way? Holy Thursday into Black Friday And who’ll clear out the gutters in your 2.3 million pound terraced house in Peckham Rye? You know, when push comes to shove. Maundy Monday and someone let a fart go on the cattle-train transporting us from […]