Monthly Archives: November 2013

Leaves. Almost gone for the year. New Poem



Duncan Wallace

Patterned, like the stars are patterned.

Tracing a vein through semi-opaque matter, splitting and diverging into delicate fragments.

Not necessarily green but changing with the seasons, like us all.

Forming rich, red and brown hues before falling endlessly and inevitably to the ground

To be trampled underfoot or gathered up in a basket
Or with a brush,
Or hoover

‘til next year, when it will all begin again.


George Galloway. Post script to my theory. ‘My ‘Scientific’ Discovery’

I note that George Galloway, on the Frank Skinner show here in the UK mentioned he has strabismus or a lazy eye, same as 5% of the population. According to my ‘discovery’ he should fit to my 2D theory (see ‘My ‘Scientific’ Discovery’;.

I say, has strabismus because he revealed implicitly on the show that he is one of many who assume that the condition is merely cosmetic and that after a few eye patch applications, one is ‘cured’. In fact, this is the view one is led into by professionals in this area and by society so it is not surprising that George appears to make this decision. If my theory is correct, and please feel free to read it under my ‘Scientific’ ‘Discovery’, then George should be at risk of a diagnosis of schizophrenia. Incurable schizophrenia in fact. By sheer neglect and ignorance of the psychiatric profession. I am not qualified to assess this risk and I also have no personal knowledge of George Galloway. I can only question however why his response to his surroundings as a youth was to put his fists up and say ‘come ahead’. I could speculate further but it would be of little use. He mentioned he was from a long line of boxers but as far as I know boxing as a way of life does not pass from mother to son so there is some initial support for my conclusions. I’ll leave the rest up to you. Perhaps he discredits what I am postulating, perhaps not.

If you want to check out the clip see:

State of the Nation. (Scotland) Poem. Best one so far?

State of the Nation by Duncan Wallace

Stirling is much of a muchness
Paisley is poorly and heartless

Aberdeen stinks o’ the Tweed
Berwick, a town in need.

Build my gallows high in Glasgow
For a lady, frae eastward departed
From Edinburgh town

Hope they pull that town down
And dump it wherever it started.

Poem. Monster of the Slums. A giveaway at the price. (free)

Monster of the Slums

In the network of streets we tread, beneath our feet
In the tenemented halls, stacked
Poly-topped, absurd
In this creeping network, dimly lit

Stalks a masked marauder
A murderer it seems
Who walks the streets by daytime.
At night retreats the scene
To stalk and creep
Round flats, where people once lived.

Grinding coffee for broken machines
Until at last
There’s someone there to scare

First he frightens you
With his scarred face
And daring glare
Turns down the lights
Flickering bulb, then bare.

Then he sticks the knife in
You’re in his lair
Perhaps he’ll electrocute you

With those things you use to straighten your hair.

Look out – there’s a monster in the slums.
When’s he comin, where’s he going, that miser over there?