Thursday, 14 November 2013

Wipe Out

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I loved water-skiing and it is one of the biggest frustrations about my new life that I will not be able to do it again. It was the one activity I could spend a whole day doing and not have a single memory of what I had thought of during the whole day. In short it was my favourite way to switch off and enjoy for the sake of enjoying,

Wipe Out

Reflections dance on the glassy surface.
Autumnal colours of lake side trees
set against a perfect dawn sky
all held in my mind's eye, a memory.
I glide, wind rushes, hair flies,
a trail of diamonds glints in the sky.
My empty mind, lives for the sheer joy of that moment
every move an instinct, no thought dares intrude,
just pure, perfect, unlimited joy.
A screech of breaks shattered that reality.
Now all that's left is a memory of what was,
of what will be no more.
That dreadful moment when all joy was crushed;
when my spirit was wiped out.

John Carré Buchanan
12 November 2013


  1. JB, Yes! Those moments of simple clarity. As you know, I, like you, won't ski, surf or run again, but whilst we may not be whole in that respect, I think with all the work and time you put in to your poetry and the blogs, you've clearly got joy, firmly 'un-crushed' and can look for those moments of pure elation in other ways. Keep strong, but I do 'hear you.'

    1. Ian, If I actually enjoyed writing I would agree with you, the problem is I don't!
      Writing is one of the few things I can do with any sense of achievement and I use it to stop myself going insane. Of late I find that my level of interest in it is waning to the point of total disinterest.
      The idea behind the blogs is to try and give myself some feeling of purpose. Having been unable to write I have watched my readership tumble from 9,000 page views a month to a couple of hundred, which begs the question why bother?

    2. JB, does writing have to be for anyone else? I understand the Narcissism of public figures, artists, writers and actors, but creativity of any kind can, even when shared, be an intensely private thing. Sharing can bring some feedback which may or may not help style, structure etc, but to be honest though we all may harbour some hope that someone enjoys it, which can be rewarding, if it quells our minds' maelstrom, then it has purpose. Why bother? Because the alternative is nihilism and a very dark place indeed. You have given me some light at a very grim time in my life and for that I am intensely grateful. Lighting one candle can bring light to a huge Cathedral. I am sure I'm not alone in feeling gratitude? 9,000 - who cares, really? It's the one stray dog that feels more the comfort of a warm hearth...

    3. Ian, Thank you for your kind words.


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