Biography of Don Pearson
No chronology, but here are facets:
Loving father and grandfather.
Moderately intelligent, extremely stupid, former systems analyst and former heroin addict.
I play squash, bridge, tennis and chess.
Depression and cluster headache.
I live overlooking the sea and beautiful Devon country.
Practical skills in cooking and with software but in nothing else.
Atheist and anarchist
I love trees.
I have a taste in music that ranges from Carter family, Woody Guthrie and Bessie Smith to Gillian Welch and Arcade Fire with stops at Mahler, Grateful Dead, John Martyn, Kathleen Ferrier, Massive Attack, Doors, Mozart, Van Morrison and Kosheen.
I love poetry by TS Eliot, Kipling, Thomas Hardy and a very long list of poets who make me wonder why I even bother to try to write.
Don Pearson Poems
(For Annabel Jones) I have walked with beauty, seen it set in stones, Run my hands across it, thrilled to hear its tones,
Tigers - For Children
(For Julia Howe and to our grandchildren) I am a tiger, roaring, and you run, screaming, to hide
I have caught tears in my mouth, washed in the dust of the dead,
My dream had beauty. Black pooled light on rainswept streets, blood on the walls
Good morning, Sir. Come in and take a seat And how can I be doing you today?
I remember a past of confident movements Of rhythmic sounds and a time that escaped And young girls and bright lights and excited voices And …
It is said that, on this shore, Lies the ideal pebble.
Truth - Haiku
Blessed are the poor in spirit: for they shall be beloved by their exploiters. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit nothing and yet be satisfied. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be renowned after they have been killed. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs
(For everyone involved in Poetry Teignmouth) They wait in ambush, poems by writers
Pohutukawa - Haiku
(for Suzanna) Christmas blossom fades: A newborn daughter cries out
Privatisation Shortage of staff Emergency repairs Signal failures
Island - Haiku
(for Elvina) Abandoned stone heads Survey wasted treeless land –
Flying ant day dawns: The glut is unheralded,
He sat beside me
drawn into futility:
I knew who he was,
well-known, a scientist,