A Guide To Extending Foreign Policy

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Reflecting on parliament's decision to bomb IS assets in Syria I recalled several lectures I attended during my military training. These lectures contained a number of 'lessons learnt' (often the hard way) during past conflicts.

The complexity of the current situation is horrendous and resolution will require the full spectrum of political and diplomatic effort. That said I can't help thinking that our politicians should be required to attend the same lectures, particularly as they are the people who ultimately define what our armed forces are tasked to do.

My thoughts and prayers are with the men and women who protect our nation and of course the people of Syria and Iraq.

The following poem sums up some key lessons.

A Guide To Extending Foreign Policy

“War is the continuation of politics by other means.” - Clausewitz

There are times when action is needed
when you just can’t stand and observe
but if you plan to use Armed Forces
take note these lessons learnt;

Regime change is not your decision
no matter what you might feel.
You have to let the people decide
not grind it in with your heel.

Rich bullies are never respected,
their acts breed envy and hate.
Win the hearts and the minds of a people
and your efforts will carry more weight.

When fighting terrorists or rebels,
you have to comply with the law,
if you break it you may win a battle
but morally you'll lose the war.

Your allies’ views will be different
they may even get in your way.
Tread carefully when taking action
lest the cons do the pros outweigh.

Befriending your enemy’s enemy,
is rarely the best way to go.
If you can’t find an ally you trust
take care; you’re in the wrong show.

You can't hold ground from a plane,
with artillery it's just the same.
If you want to hold on to what's around
you’ll have to put boots on the ground.

If you’re in you must be; all in,
there is no other way,
the reward for a half assed effort
is to be bitten another day.

Yes - war is a messy business
in which everyone gets burnt.
So before you stick your oar in
take heed these lessons hard learnt.

John Carré Buchanan
03 December 2015

Emotions High

Image: A Barroom Brawl - Anton Otto Fischer (1882-1962)

The theme for last nights Open Mic was; 'a poem based on an article in a newspaper or magazine'. The Guernsey Press headline; "Mourners involved in Town fight", caught my eye and the following poem was the result. I hope you like it.

Emotions High

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust;
to dust up.
Down into the ground,
down into town,
down the hatch,
light the match.
Emotions high
tempers fly
a fan smashed,
headline splashed;
"Mourners involved in Town fight"
police ask for insight,
whilst down with the worms
the departed turns.

John Carré Buchanan
7 November 2014

Elevator Music

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A friend of mine has encouraged me to have a crack at writing poems which do not use end rhyme. This is perhaps the start of something new. I hope you like it.

Elevator Music

Water dances over the stone obelisk
making sweet music as it tumbles and turns.
The joyous sound, natural, calm, peaceful.
A tranquil environment, sit, lighten the load.
Yet, there is an alien tune, an intruder.
Insipid, plink plonk of piano, sax, bass.
Riffles of Jazz on endless loop.
Someone, somewhere played this
image of a dark smoke filled room.
Worse still, someone bought it
and inflicted it on tranquillity.
Why?
Turn it off, let the natural order return.
Let the rivulets run.

John Carré Buchanan
15 January 2014

The Poet

My apologies to my regular readers for my extended absence. I have spent the last year or so completely immersed in fighting CRPS and the combination of drugs and surgery have dulled my ability to think and write. I’m just a week from finishing a staged withdrawal from pain killers and whilst there has been a marked increase in pain, I can almost think clearly for the first time in quite a while. Hopefully I will be able to start writing regularly again.

This poem is about something that most poets experience at one time or another. The words; notebook, pencil and dictaphone spring to mind, but in those early morning moments reaching for the pad……. Well, we all know the score.

The Poet

Awakened.
In the darkness,
the thought,
perfectly formed,
races around a clouded mind.
So perfect.
So complete.
So, memorable.
It compels,
it swirls and churns,
demands attention,
confounds sleep.
Yet, in the morning
the rested mind recalls but fragments;
that, perfect thought,
gone.

John Carré Buchanan
23 August 2013

A Tetractys On War

This morning I was introduced to the concept of the tetractys poem.

The tetractys was made famous by Pythagoras and has since become a modern poetry form. The form is based on the number ten which was thought to be a number of power. The name tetractys poetry derives from the fact that the syllable count of the first four lines equals ten.

A tetractys has in total, five lines, each having a syllables count of 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 10.

This format gives the poem a triangle shape. The format can be played with to produce "reversed tetractys" and "double tetractys". The following poem is a double tetractys, I hope you enjoy it.

A Tetractys On War

War,
soldiers
clear up failed
diplomacy.
Struggling to stay alive in muddy fields,
whilst politicians, back at home, squabble
like small children
about who
they should
blame.

John Carré Buchanan
01 May 2013

World Domination Achieved - Thank You.

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Thank You

I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to visit and read this blog.

The Blog has now been read in 245 Countries which (according to Flag Counter) means that it has been read in every country in the world.

The blog has 73,096 page views in 34,288 visits which mean the average visitor has seen 2.13 pages per visit.

I am delighted with this result and would like to thank everyone who has visited and read my poetry.

I hope you enjoy my work.

John Carré Buchanan
11 November 2012

Alliteration Based On The Letter ‘T’ The Thirst

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The other day I wrote an Alliteration based on the letter S, This was quite a bit of fun, not to mention a bit of a challenge, so I thought I wold have another go at it. This one based on the letter T is about the way the plains in Africa become more dangerous as the rains make them more beautiful. Touareg are a type of African cow, as for the rest I’m afraid you will have to use a dictionary, but trust me it does make sense.

Alliteration Based On The Letter ‘T’ – The Thirst

The Tumultuous Thunderclap
Tears The Torrid Troposphere.
Thick Thorn Thicket Trammeles
Tightly Tethered Touareg.
Tentative Tears Tumble
Teasing The Thirsty Terra.

Then The Torrent Triggers.
Trickles Twist Together,
Then Tributaries tear trenches
Through The Terracotta Terrain
The Tide Tremulously Trumpets.

Thirst Tempered,
Tasty Tussocks Thrive.
Transient Throngs Traipse Traditional Tracks,
Trailing Treacherous Toothed Terrors
Tactically Tracking, Targeting,
Then Terminating The Tenderfeet.

This Time,
The Time Torrents Tempt Tender Tucker
To Transform The Tortured Transvaal.
The Technicolor Treasure Trove
Turns To Treacherous Tracks.

John Carré Buchanan
22 June 2012

Alliteration Based On The Letter ‘S’ Slip Slop Slap

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On Monday I went to our local Open Mic Poetry evening. It turned out to be a cracking evening. At the end we decided that the theme for the next event would be to write an alliteration poem using a letter of our choice. I decided to try writing a poem using only words beginning with the letter “S”. I hope you enjoy the poem.

Alliteration Based On The Letter ‘S' - Slip Slop Slap

Silver Stallions Surge Shoreward.
Spray Sprung Skyward, Splits Sunlight,
Sending Sparkling Shards Soaring,
Subverting Sapphire Sky’s Splendour.

Slip Slop Slap, Sun Screen Splatters,
Sharp Sand Sticks Spoiling Smooth Silky Sheen,
Sand Scratches, Scours Sensitive Skin;
Swim Strips Sand, Starts Swirling Sunblock Slick.

Satsuma Sun Scorches Stark Shoulders.
Sombreros Shunned, Scalps Smoulder.
Sunblind Survey Supresses Scarlet Shene;
So Sungod Spurns Suncream,

Sunburn Sufferer Seeks Shaded Solitude;
Sipping Sundowner Sporting Swizzle Stick.
Salve Smothered Scarlett Shoulders Sting,
Sizzling Sucker Swears Softly – Schmuck.

John Carré Buchanan
20 June 2012

Relaxing with Haiku

Like the Japanese Macaque (Snow Monkey) in the Photo above, I have just spent a morning relaxing. Unfortunately I do not have a thermal spring to hand, so I spent my relaxation time sitting in a warm bed writing Haiku.

I feel sure that the traditionalist might complain that they do not all contain a ‘Kigo’ (season) word, or that the themes are not all natural, or some such.

Having read around the subject recently I have learned that modern Haiku are increasingly unlikely to follow the tradition of taking nature as their subject, but the use of juxtaposition continues to be honored.

The style I am using is the British style of 3 lines with 5, 7 and 5 syllables respectively.

I find writing Haiku a very relaxing way of passing time, and an extremely useful tool in my pain management tool box. The rigid structure seems to aid my writing when I am having a flare up or a setback and it also seems to divert my attention away from some of my discomfort.

The fact that I have managed to write about twenty Haiku since New Year’s Eve is testament to the fact that I have not been feeling that great since last Friday, having reflected on this I realized that during the Christmas rush, which I had planned well ahead, I had not taken the time to produce a proper pacing plan for the week surrounding New Year, hence my ninth Haiku.

I hope that you enjoy reading these Haiku and that 2012 has started well for you.

New Year

The rush is over,
It’s back to the old routine,
A stone heavier.

Christmas Toys

The toys lie scattered,
Children play excitedly,
With the toys’ boxes.

Gales

The South Westerly
Tears at the massive oak tree,
I watch from inside.

New Year Resolutions

They lie in tatters,
The New Year Resolutions;
Just a ‘to-do’ list

Half Full

Vicious wind roars past,
Rain falls horizontally.
Sun shines above clouds.

The Cat

Curled up in a ball,
Soft purr invites you to stroke,
Claws sink into hand.

The Dog

Lies at master’s feet,
Car passes house in street,
Master bowled over.

Turkey

Christmas leftovers,
served curried, fried, boiled and cold.
Kids search dump for scraps.

New Year Flare Up

I’m back in my bed.
Pacing New Year went to pot.
Forgot to plan it.

John Carré Buchanan
10 January 2012

Haiku

The ancient pond,
A frog jumps in.
The sound of the water.

Matsuo Bashou (1686)

I have been writing fairly standard poetry for some time and decided to branch out a little and explore the Haiku.

The Haiku is a styalised Japanese poem, the English version of which follows these basic rules;

1. Haiku do not have to rhyme,
2. Haiku have 3 lines,
3. The lines have 5, 7 and 5 syllables, (these aren’t “syllables” in the western language sense)
4. Ideally they should contain a word that conjures up an image of a season.

This evening I wrote my first eight which I hope hope you enjoy.

Bullies

The hurricane hit hard,
The oak stood firm against all,
Then hit back harder.

Hibernating

Soft mound of dried leaves,
Hedgehogs missing from garden,
Slow heart beat below.

Cobo *

Waves pound rocky shore,
White spume flies high in the sky,
Fish and chips on wall.

* Cobo is one of the biggest beaches in Guernsey, it also has one of the best fish and chip Shops on the Island. There is not much better then sitting on the sea wall on a summer evening and eating fish and chips.

Changes

Caterpillar eats,
Chrysalis hardens on twig,
Beauty flies aloft.

Felix

Cat curls in tight ball,
Purring softly in its sleep,
Claws steeped in dried blood.

Poppies

Fields of pink petals,
Flutter in the Afghan breeze,
Junkie dies in street.

Surfer

Waves power shoreward,
Growing taller and taller,
Lone surfer wipes out.

Kite

Clear blue sky stares down,
Light bounces from rippling sea,
Red kite intrudes.

John Carré Buchanan
03 December 2011

Writer's Block

Having recovered from my recent Flare Up, I realised that the way I presented the subject matter in my last three posts was probably too downbeat for people to enjoy. I guess we live and learn!

Since I returned to the land of the living I have been looking for inspiration for some lighter poems on which to base my next blogs. Unfortunately I am still looking, so I will use a poem I wrote last time I got stuck;

Writers Block

Sitting on a rocky outcrop,
Trying to write a poem,
Don’t know what to write about,
My mind it must be goin’.

The pencil hovers o’er the page
Waiting for inspiration,
The empty page reflects the sun.
I bead with perspiration.

It seems a poem has found the page.
I’m not quite sure how.
I better quit while I’m ahead,
I must be goin’ now.

John Carré Buchanan
17 July 2010

Silence

A few weeks ago I attended a poetry workshop in a lovely old house owned by a friend. The weekend allowed me to spend a considerable amount of time in large silent rooms and uninterrupted; I managed to write 5 poems in 2 days. This poem came about as I sat in the drawing room and listened to the silence.

Sitting in silence is an interesting thing to do. If you try it you will quickly discover that we are very rarely able to sit in total silence. That day I could hear an orchestra playing in the old house.

Silence

The house is quiet, but not silent.
I can hear an orchestra.

The stray branch which scrapes the window
mimics the strings as they warm up.

As wind caresses the chimney pot
a flute plays in the fire place.

The ‘woods wind’ can be heard
through the old sash windows.

The rattle of a door as it sways against its latch
adds percussion.

Then, as a spoon tinkles in a distant cup
and a pianist springs to life.

In the hall the grandfather clock conducts
beating out a steady rhythm.

Footsteps herald the arrival of coffee
and the moment passes.

John Carré Buchanan
21 September 2011

Icart Tea Gardens

I wrote this poem sitting in one of my favourite places. A secluded tea garden, lovingly coaxed into existence, near the top of some of the most spectacular cliffs in Guernsey.

Icart Tea Gardens

Blue ceiling,
Green walls,
Soft music,
Tranquillity.

Gentle breeze,
Busy Bees,
Verdant leaves,
Bird song.

Strident Echium,
Pink Campion,
Towering Blackthorn,
White Oleria.

Gentle murmurs,
China clinks,
Buttered Gâche,
Great Ice-Cream.

John Carré Buchanan
10 May 2011