Well, here we go, my first ever blog post. I suppose a self-introduction might be in order for those who don't know me who might one day accidentally stumble across this.
I'm 44, Scottish, Atheist, engaged to Susan, have a heart condition and am suffering from depression (Prozac and half a pharmacy help wonderfully), have in the past suffered three strokes (I thought it was only two but the other day I discovered that the first one had in fact been two and was massive) and two heart attacks, and have a non-malignant brain tumour which is doing absolutely nothing and so is really quite friendly as brain tumours go. It is "probably" a craniopharyngioma, so it has a very friendly and wonderful name, too, which I would love to use in a song, but there could conceivably be scansion problems with it. ("Oh sweet craniopharyngioma, how I love your internalistic aroma..."; you'd have to be Paul Simon to sing it properly, although if he wrote it at least it would be better).
I tend not to write songs, but I do write poetry, and this blog will on occasion be a vehicle for new pieces, and even more occasionally for old ones, such as the one that has inspired the blog's title. Which is Dodophobia. Would you like to hear it? Oh all right then, as you've twisted my arm.
I bet I suffer terribly from dodophobia.
Now I know some of you are sitting there saying "THAT'S not poetry!" but it is, and I shall tell you why; because I say it is. Poetry has nothing to do with rhyme or scansion, it is simply a way of using words artistically to create mood and image in the mind of the perceiver. In this case, the mood is mostly just humour, but with a thoughtful aftertaste, I hope. That is, I hope you will continue thinking about it and its possible meaning after you have moved on to another webpage, after having had an initial giggle or snigger.
Actually, not just poetry but all art forms are art if their creators say they are (or if they don't but the thing has an artistic effect on you), and for the same reasons. All it's about is the provoking of thought or feeling, so if a pile of bricks (to choose an entirely random example) makes you angry or causes you to ruminate on the nature of art (for instance) then of COURSE it's bloody art! And art of all kinds, including poetry, is everywhere around us, occasionally deliberately created.
Also I will share with you, whether you like it or not, my thoughts and feelings about whatever enters my mind to mention. Could be anything, anything at all, because my brain goes off on all sorts of tangents at times.
And I think that's quite enough for now.