Friday, 8 August 2025

GHOST FAINT IMAGES

I appear to have spent this afternoon changing the following words into different combinations, ghost faint images into faint ghost images and I have reached the point where I can no longer decide which is the better. The drawer beckons for that particular quandary. I had been reading something about how photographs will fade over the centuries and leave blank shiny paper. Given the present state of dubious narratives, false news and outright lies the poem was an easy write. 

PROPAGANDA


The photos presented problems

having been badly curated

and too quick to fade

to a yellowing cream blankness


We were forced to trace the outlines

of the faint ghost images

with fine graphite sticks

which slipped on the slick surface


As we attempted to harness the past

to justify our political position

Even if I can decide the order of the words: faint; ghost; and images I am unsure that the poem is finished. As I say one for the drawer.

I've been listening to the expanded edition of A Distant Shore by Tracey Thorn, my original album is worn out. Such a classic. 

Until next time.

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