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Cluster index: W.D. Jackson

Reflections on Anonymity 2.

Monday, 10 July 2023

W. D. Jackson: ‘Won’t smell its root.
But I don’t give a hoot.
Nor will I care
For life up there.’

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Reflections on Anonymity 1.

Thursday, 18 May 2023

W.D. Jackson: ‘Differing motifs demand different methods. This does not presuppose evolution or progress, but a correspondence or agreement between the idea one wants to express and the means of expression which is inseparable from it”’

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Nathan the Wise.

Friday, 14 April 2023

W.D. Jackson: ‘Richard I and Philip of France
And a band of zealous Crusaders
Set sail to wreak their righteous wrath
On the Saracen invaders.’

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Words in the Dark 3.

Friday, 24 February 2023

W.D. Jackson: Flattering, complaining, wrangling, he
Waged life like a one-man guerrilla war
Against a Romantic century:
Destroyed but undefeated, he bore
A lot of painful poetry –’

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Words in the Dark 2.

Saturday, 28 January 2023

W.D. Jackson: ‘The parks where I grew up are not so quiet:
The sticks and stones flew thick again last night
And milk-bottles filled with petrol, fused with rags,
Bombed shops and local business.’

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Words in the Dark 1.

Saturday, 24 December 2022

WD Jackson: ‘Our German secretary.  Her Nazi father,
She informed my embarrassed wife and me
One evening after wurst and kraut,
Had relished public beatings. ‘

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Of Peace and Strife 3.

Sunday, 18 September 2022

W.D. Jackson: ‘The same young prince went hunting: a crowd
Of monkeys hid their faces.
Not so their leader – who, loud and proud,
Put on rude airs, crude graces.’

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Of Peace and Strife 2.

Monday, 22 August 2022

W.D. Jackson: ‘Jerome was studying in his cave.
The desert night was cold.
A lion roared and roared. Though brave,
The saint was weak and old.’

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Of Peace and Strife 1.

Monday, 11 July 2022

W.D. Jackson: ‘He ran so hard he lost his breath:
With one last desperate bound
He briefly soared to a hero’s death
And smashed into the ground.’

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The Bride’s Story.

Monday, 21 February 2022

W. D. Jackson: ‘Around 1800 in the township of Hanau, amid the great forests of Hessen in Central Germany, Marie Hassenpflug, then about twelve years of age, must have heard a folk-tale (or Märchen) – there was no printed version at that time – which she later told (with a number of others) to her brothers-in-law Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm, who included it as “No.40” in their Kinder- und Hausmärchen (1812-14), under the title of Der Räuberbräutigam (“The Robber Bridegroom”).’

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