This week’s podcast is a cautionary tale of deep sadness and misery. A failure to communicate, to understand those nearest and dearest to us. It was written in response to an Ekphrastic prompt at Poetic Bloomings and is available in text form here
To listen just click ”Runaway Train“
If you want to know why I have chosen this poem then read on…
There are two main reasons why I don’t relish this time of year. The first is the rabid commercialism that has turned Christmas from a festival of celebration on a nominated day (or twelve days if you wish, I have no axe to grind there!) into over a month of non-stop parties, adverts, competitive decorating (the first tree, the most lights etc.) and something that surely is exactly the opposite of the Christian message. The second reason is “the Christmas Spirit”, the “season of goodwill to all men”. As opposed to actually giving a flying wombat’s thingy-ma-jig about anyone else at all, the rest of the year. I refer you dear reader/listener to my previous comment about the Christian message! Black Friday is probably the best (worst?) example of this.
I set aside my own different spirituality and the fact that most of the iconic symbols of Christmas were stolen from pre-Christian religions/belief sets and the date set to usurp a pre-existing festival (here, my Viking ancestors’ axe does need grinding!).
If you can only manage to be nice to others at this time of year then spare a thought for the desperate, the broken, the acquaintance, the friend or your g_d forbid, the family member that needs reaching out to. Then do exactly that!
This will be the last podcast of 2013 for logistical reasons. The site is moving to another server, the podcasts themselves will finally be combined here and the old site shut down and redirected to this one.
Best wishes as ever to all for the next month and always. My audio section will return in January 2014 with a new feature of a famous poem to start that and each month until June.
Lang mae yer lum reek!
Filed under: podcasts, Poetic Bloomings, Poetry
