In The Poetry

I love looking at pictures and Rembrandt is my favourite painter among the old masters. And this poem is called ‘Rembrandt’s Late Self-Portraits’.

Rembrandt’s Late Self-Portraits’

You are confronted with yourself. Each year
The pouches fill, the skin is uglier.
You give it all unflinchingly. You stare
Into yourself, beyond. Your brush’s care
Runs with self-knowledge. Here

Is a humility at one [...]

The next poem, ‘A Bird in the House’, is a piece of autobiography and it’s a straight recollection of something that happened with my sister and me when we were small.

A Bird in the House

It was a yellow voice, a high, shrill treble in the nursery
White always and high, I remember it so,
White cupboard, off-white [...]

I love looking at pictures and Rembrandt is my favourite painter among the old masters. And this poem is called ‘Rembrandt’s Late Self-Portraits’.

Rembrandt’s Late Self-Portraits’

You are confronted with yourself. Each year
The pouches fill, the skin is uglier.
You give it all unflinchingly. You stare
Into yourself, beyond. Your brush’s care
Runs with self-knowledge. Here

Is a humility at one [...]

The next poem, ‘A Bird in the House’, is a piece of autobiography and it’s a straight recollection of something that happened with my sister and me when we were small.

A Bird in the House

It was a yellow voice, a high, shrill treble in the nursery
White always and high, I remember it so,
White cupboard, off-white [...]