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An Heir Of Resignation

An offbeat collection of recently written poetry. The author’s ironic sense of humour shines through. Never deterred by the vagaries of life, his curiosity and his stoicism in the face of emotional adversity are unquenchable.

If You Are Easily Shocked, Don’t Wear Nylons!

Poetry is the expression of life, both real and imagined, lived and desired, achieved and unattainable. It is the articulation of thought into words, the transformation of concepts into language; a metamorphosis that is neither simple nor implicit. To write poetry is to run free, to dream beyond the constraints of mortality and to see beyond the stars. To read poetry is to fertilise and develop one’s imagination and to alter the parameters of one’s mortal existence.

Lovers, Victims And Heroes, Mr. Pinter & South Of Left Bank

Two screenplays by London writer, James Sapsard.

In ‘Lovers, Victims And Heroes, Mr. Pinter’, set in the late 1960’s, twin sisters, Julie and Jayne, take on the mob, despite their sibling rivalry, using both mistaken identity and deliberate impersonation. Jimmy will kill to protect them both.

In ‘South Of Left Bank’, set in the early 1970’s, Cherry and Ruby are twins. Ruby wants exam secrets. When her lecturer violates her, Jimmy eliminates him. When student Penny is tried for blackmail, Jimmy calmly fixes that too.

You Murdering Barristers!

The third screenplay by London writer, James Sapsard, You Murdering Barristers! poses the question: who murdered Lockwood? Unemployed Johnny Hughes or his barrister twin brother, Charles Flame, separated from him at birth? How will Charles wake from the nightmare of a trial that goes badly wrong? Are the judge, the coroner and the jury foreman all part of a conspiracy? Could there have been a different outcome for Johnny, Charles and Lockwood?

Too Much Too Soon!

Six tongue in cheek tales of murder, mayhem and mischief with lashings of love, lust and licentiousness. Who will win his case when barrister, Justin Fawcett-Gently, takes on rival barrister, Titus Clenchyn-Buthocks in defence of Scoundrel Dithering? Are Felonious Facilitator and Dodgy Dealer reliable defence witnesses? Will Lustful Motion lose her heart to Paradoxically Forgettable or will they have just a one night stand? . . . and that’s just one tale!

Escape From The Highlands

Escape From The Highlands : Poems Of Love And Passion. The title is allegorical. Sometimes we have to break away from the places in which we were conditioned to believe we would find solace, passion and love; too often places that were unattainable without the surrender of our personal freedom and our identity. If we do choose to pursue such places, we discover the myth, trapped and lonely amidst status symbols, cold comfort and relative wealth in the house on the hill, while the single, fleeting, loving kiss of a lifetime may be waiting still, down the road, under an orange streetlamp, in the snow covered street in which we once lived.

If one is a romantic, it’s never too late to swap the tennis court for the divorce court and succumb to the arms of one’s true and only love if only for that single moment of life’s utter fulfilment.

Observations And Philosophies

Observations And Philosophies. With gratitude to Betty Friedan, 1921-2006, for her insights, inspiration and motivation. As much as Betty Friedan was an activist for equality of the sexes and intended her work to be a catalyst for that revolution, the poems in this collection are intended as a catalyst for freedom of thought and escape from conditioned paradigms of the human condition. Dare to think outside the box and there will be no box!

Each suburban wife struggled with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub Scouts and Brownies, lay beside her husband at night – she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question – “Is this all?”

The Feminine Mystique © 1963 Betty Friedan


Journey. Poems describing some of the roads on which the author has travelled and the experiences and people he encountered along the way. Some of these journeys are metaphorical, some are metaphysical and some are just the passage of time.

Late Nights And Early Days

Late Nights And Early Days. Principally a collection of the author’s early poetry displaying astonishing depth and ability. “I was drawn to writing protest movement, satirical and blank verse but felt I wasn’t entitled to call myself a poet unless and until I’d shown I could write in traditional verse forms. I practised iambic pentameter, haikai, Shakespearean sonnets, rhyming couplets et al until the day I came across the work of Charles Bukowski. From that moment on, it no longer mattered to me whether or not my poetry conformed to any particular paradigm.”

Cutting Room Floor

Cutting Room Floor. If there is a discernible theme in this collection, then it’s probably that of irreverence emanating from what began as wide eyed life observation. Irreverence reflected not only in stories about the indifferent waywardness of youth, but also, as can be seen in the penultimate poem, Father O’Really, the irreverence of behaviour incongruent with one’s position in life.

Earnest Endeavour

Earnest Endeavour. I was sitting, at an outside table of a café in Holborn, enjoying a cafetière and a baguette when a guy who appeared homeless asked if he could sit at my table. I told him of course he could. A member of the café staff came out and told the guy, in no uncertain terms, to clear off. I told the café guy to hold on because the man was my guest. He looked me up and down, taking in my perfect, black, three piece suit and impeccable grooming and opened his mouth, presumably to speak.

I pre-empted his words by asking him to bring my guest a cup of coffee or whatever drink my guest required with whatever food he requested. The staff member told me that they didn’t do waiter service. I took out my wallet and handed my guest £10 and told him to go in, choose whatever he wanted and join the queue inside and wait to pay. The staff member, I suspect, appalled at the thought of the presence of a member of the great unwashed possibly discouraging disinfected customers immediately asked my guest what he would like. In a moment of sublime inspiration, my guest asked the staff member what they had. Very shortly afterwards, my guest was enjoying a pleasant afternoon sojourn in the London summer afternoon sun. We didn’t speak much, each with enough thoughts of our own to occupy us. I’d told him he didn’t have to rush because I was happy to sit for quite a while longer.

The man in my photograph on the cover of this book reminds me of Ernest Hemingway.

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