Sherry: John, we are so happy Julian suggested you check us out. Tell us a little about yourself, won’t you?
John: Thank you and thanks also to Julian for making the introduction. I have really enjoyed the prompts and reading
the other subscribers' poetry over the last few weeks. I would like to thank them for the lovely comments
that they have left on my blog.
As for my life, well, I guess I've had a bit of an unusual one. My
parents were expatriates and I was born in Trinidad in 1964. I was educated as a boarder at Elizabeth
College in Guernsey. This school was
founded by Queen Elizabeth I in 1563. The
College is the large building dominating St. Peter Port’s skyline in the image
below.
Guernsey’s picturesque
capital, St. Peter Port
I then embarked on a career in the British Army,
starting as a soldier in the Parachute Regiment, before being commissioned into
the Royal Corps of Transport, which later became the Royal Logistic Corps. I
left the Army in 2003 as a Major.
On returning to Guernsey, I worked as the operations
manager for a local IT company before finding my dream job heading up the logistics
and contracts management for a German alumina refinery, from Guernsey. This
ended following an accident in 2008.
Last year I started work again and I am now a civil servant working as a
procurement officer at our hospital.
I was married in 1993 and had two children who are
both now at University. In fact my son leaving recently inspired
my poem 'Empty Nest'. We have 2 dogs and
2 3/4 cats and live 5 minutes from the beautiful cliffs of the Island’s South
coast.
Guernsey’s South
coast taken from Icart Point
looking West
Sherry: I love your poem Socks,
to the three-legged cat you rescued. And I understand that when you had a serious life
event occur in 2008, Socks was able to return the favour and comfort you in turn. Would you like
to tell us about that time?
Socks
I remember the day I found you
lying crumpled on the verge,
I'd been looking for your sister
when I somehow felt an urge...
There you lay twisted and broken
your life hanging by a thread;
I prayed that I'd not lose you too,
as I gently held your head.
They took your leg to save you.
As I watched you overcome
I marvelled as you learnt to walk,
then jump, hunt and run.
After I was struck down
you tucked in close beside
silently gave me the courage
my demons to deride.
You've been a good friend to me;
as I struggle to overcome
you've shared with me the strength
to survive and not succumb.
My fingers massage your scars
beneath your silky fur
and you soothe mine
with your reassuring purr.
John Carré Buchanan
20 August 2017
Socks
Sherry: I just had to include this sweet poem. I am so sorry about Twizzle.
John: As for the accident; in August 2008 I was cycling to
work when a car pulled out in front of me and my life changed forever.
The physical damage was minor, but I was left with
Complex Regional Pain Syndrome which means that I suffer from severe pain in my right
leg. This pain ranges between 7- 10/10
on the pain scale and is always there.
While I managed to work for a couple of years after the accident, the
combination of pain, lack of sleep, depression and the opiates my doctors had me
taking resulted in me having to quit my job to concentrate on my recovery. I might add that during this period my
employer was brilliant, actually allowing me to work from my bed at home in an
attempt to keep me on.
By that time I was using a wheelchair, heavily dosed
on the strongest of opiates and depressed to the point of being suicidal. I had
a spinal cord stimulator fitted, which allowed me do pass an electric current directly
onto my spinal chord to change the pain. This led to an infection, which meant
the stimulator had to be removed, a blessing in disguise.
Sherry: My goodness, John. What an amazing journey you have made!
John: It was at this point that I realised that if something
didn’t change I was not going to survive.
The doctors and psychiatrists, though extremely compassionate and well-meaning, were actually hindering my recovery with the drugs and the constant examination
of events in my life. I decided to stop
seeing doctors and over the next 8 months I weened myself off the opiates and
the doctors and hit the pool and the Gym.
I set myself a goal of running a half Ironman triathlon
in 2015. Given I was in a wheelchair, had severe issues resulting from the last
time I’d ridden a bike and found that water moving over my leg was extremely
painful, this was a mega challenge. I
persevered. At one point I realised that
it was the water moving the hairs on my leg that increased the pain so I shaved
my leg! It worked, and in September 2015 I
competed the 2km swim, 90km ride and half marathon in just under 6 hours.
Me on the bike
leg of Graniteman 2015
Sherry: I am sure our readers' jaws are dropped, like mine, reading of this amazing transformation! Wow!
John: I immediately set a double goal of returning to work and learning to
barefoot waterski in 2016, both of which I achieved.
Sherry: What a triumph, John! A remarkable story of determination and
overcoming. How are you now?
John: Pain is still a major factor in my life, as is depression and sleepless
nights, but I am now more able to live with it. I do not use painkillers any more, but I use my wheelchair when it’s needed.
I am no longer suicidal, but given the pain is incurable and slowly
worsening, I do pray for a short life.
Sherry: It never fails to humble me, learning the challenges people somehow learn to live with and transcend. When did you
begin writing, John?
John: My first poems date back to just after I left school and my early days
in the army. I even had one published in the regimental magazine (Thoughts on
Cyprus). That said, it was nothing more
than a dabble.
After the accident I realised that everything I enjoyed was physical; as
such it felt like I lost everything. I sat down and listed everything I had
ever done that was not physical and poetry was at the top of the list. To be honest, at the time it I saw it as the
best of a bad lot!
After I had written a few poems which I thought were half decent, I wondered
how I could find out if they were any good.
By happenstance I saw a rather vague reference to poetry Open Mic on the
internet, it was being held in a bar 200 meters from my house that very evening,
so I went along.
A couple of months
later I set up Guernsey Poets Blog to encourage
more Guernsey Poets to give it a go. I
also set up Poet at Jaybern. The rest is
history.
Sherry: And lucky for us, both you and Julian found your way to us! What do you love about
poetry, John? What makes it sing for you?
John: That’s a bit of a tricky question. I can't profess to loving poetry. I
enjoy it as a distraction from the pain, and reading a clever take on a subject
is often inspiring. That said, I have
always enjoyed war poetry, and poems by the likes of Rudyard Kipling, must be
the soldier in me!
Guernsey is blessed with a number of excellent poets, such as Julian,
who often attend the monthly open mic.
My pain management goal each month is to attend this event and enjoy
their company.
Sherry: Since only one of our members can hear your poems in person, are there three you would like to include here for us?
John: Wow choosing 3 is
tricky, I will take one on each of my most written subjects, the environment, the
military and perhaps something motivational.
Let’s begin with a poem
about the damage the human race is doing to the Earth. All over the world we see destruction of
primary rain forest, tundra and other unique environments. We pollute and effectively rape the rivers
and oceans. I believe that in the end we
will kill ourselves off and on a geological timeframe the world will recover,
but in the meantime:
Infection
The infection
started slowly,
but that did not
last;
Lungs weakened by
the continuous onslaught began to fail.
Life giving gas now
bore pollutants which weakened the body
and made the virus’
attack deadlier still.
The beating heart
now forced polluted blood
through clogged and
damaged veins.
Kidneys and liver
began to fail as the antigen’s onslaught
outstripped their
ability to cleanse.
The skin’s surface
took on an unhealthy pallor
Soars broke out,
black, yellow and red puss bearing carbuncles
An unhealthy
cloying stench hung around the body
And still the virus
continued its attack.
Finally unable to
function the fabric of the body broke down
And there hanging
dead in space where the blue planet had hung
Was a smog covered
grey planet destroyed by a virus called;
H U man.
John Carré Buchanan
25 February 2012
Sherry: I'm afraid I have to agree with you on all counts, John. We are taking far too long to awaken.
John: My second poem is on a
military subject. It is a sad fact of
life that Soldiers serving our countries get injured. I wrote this as one of a series of poems
which start with an Improvised Explosive Device (IED) exploding and a soldier
being hurt, then recovered, repatriated and helped through recovery. The series ends with this poem which I
unashamedly wrote to encourage myself during the darkest days. It is a message
of hope. You should bear in mind that
injuries are not just wounds and missing limbs, but often deep psychological
traumas which, being invisible, are often overlooked and of course damage families. This poem speaks of all three.
Singing In The Bath
He's singing in the bath.
six months,
six months,
new legs,
new face,
and he’s singing in
the bath,
because he’s home.
The kids are
laughing.
six months,
new legs,
new face,
and the kids are
laughing,
because he still
can’t sing.
His wife is
smiling,
six months,
new legs,
new face,
and his wife is
smiling,
because he’s
singing in the bath.
John Carré Buchanan
11 March 2011
Sherry: This poem illustrates so well the impact on families of what happens to those who serve. You are right; often, the deepest wounds are not visible.
John: My third poem is
something a little lighter and is based on a tool I use to manage pain. It can
and has been used to reinforce goals, help people make a variety of behavioural
changes.
The Pebble
The little pink pebble
Was found on a
beach
It lives in my pocket
My thoughts to
impeach.
Created in fire
at the dawn of the
earth
It cooled to
granite
With much bigger
girth
It was covered with
algae
When life first
began,
It saw off the
dinosaurs
and the ascent of
man
The rough granite
texture
Has been smoothed
with time
its Feldspar and
quartz
Give off a faint
shine.
My existence is
shorter
Than this tiny
stone’s
and it will be here
when
I’m nought but
bones
With hand in my
pocket
Its cool form I
feel
It gently reminds
me
My life is for
real.
When I feel down
As I often do
I touch its smooth
surface
And admire the view
When I am low
and life’s not
worth a damn
Its touch hits my
thoughts,
Like a battering
ram
I think of those
things
that bring me great
joy
of being a Father
Or when I was boy
Or think I’ll grow
rich
And drive a nice
car
I let it remind me
We are who we are
A negative thought
Like: “it’s been a
crap day”
can turn to
remembering
a romp in the hay
There’s always a
friend
To give me advice
but my little
pebble
will always suffice
So remember this
poem
When next you’re
alone
bend to the ground
and get your own
stone.
John Carré Buchanan
23 Jun 2010
Sherry: I love this one, John. I am always picking up pebbles and small rocks. I especially like "we are who we are." Do you write prose as well?
John: Very occasionally. I have had several articles published in newspapers
and magazines but getting the drive to write more extensively is a bit of a
problem. Penning a few poems a month is
about all I can currently handle.
Sherry: I think you have the makings of a wonderful memoir in all you have experienced. Just saying......... I understand you have
traveled considerably in your life. Would you like to tell us a bit about this?
John: Sure. I was born in
Trinidad and I had lived in Kenya, Sark, Guernsey and England before I was sent
to boarding school at the age of 7. A
year later my brother joined me and my parents headed off for Ascension Island
in the South Atlantic, then it was Mauritius, Seychelles, Gibraltar, Grand
Cayman and the list went on, It made for some superb holidays.
On leaving school I spent
a couple of years with my parents whilst my army career got going. During this
time I went out to Hong Kong, where I worked as a labourer on a building site, and then Gibraltar, where I tended bar.
Having joined the Para’s, I served in the USA, Canada, and on the UN line in Cyprus, before being sent to
Officer training at Sandhurst.
As an Officer I served
in Germany, Canada, Australia, Northern Ireland, Belize, the Balkans, Cyprus
and the UK, and a couple of others. Most
of my time was spent serving as a Logistics Officer, but I also did a spell as a
Primary Forward Air Controller (a P-FAC is the chap that is on the ground guiding
aeroplanes onto their targets). This inspired my poem ‘The Twitcher’.
Jungle River Crossing Central America 1991
Sherry: Forget the memoir! I think there needs to be a movie! What an adventurous life you have lived.
John: My most rewarding
posting was in Northern Ireland when, as a Lieutenant, I commanded a group of
guys who resupplied all the outposts around the ‘Province’. This was a dangerous and demanding role at
which they excelled, and we had a lot of fun.
I must admit that whilst having favourites is not encouraged, of all the
soldiers I commanded, it is those that I was most honoured to know; indeed we
still meet occasionally and several of my poems refer to them.
My wife was a dentist
in the Army and in 1992 I very romantically proposed over the phone from Bosnia, whilst serving with the UN in what was an extremely harrowing tour. When I
returned and she asked for her ring I jokingly offered her the phone card and
said I’d already given her a ring (on the phone). Unsurprisingly that didn’t
wash, but she still has the phone card! We
were married in Sark in 1993.
Our single biggest
threat is that of greed, and our insatiable belief that we have a right to
everything. We don’t. We are not the
only inhabitants on this planet and one day our greed will come back to haunt
us. My poem ‘Have a Care’ which was recently linked to Poets United’s Midweek
Motif on Respect, addressed this issue.
Sherry: I could not agree more, John, especially about most people being good and wanting simple, peaceful lives. Well said. Looking back on your childhood, can you see anything that you think led to
your becoming a poet?
John: At school my spelling was atrocious and I was actively discouraged from
taking the English Literature exams. I suspect the school was worried about
its pass rate record;-)
I remember reading a mock exam paper that contained two amazing poems: Robert
Frost's ‘A Road Not Taken’ and Edward Thomas’ ‘Tall Nettles’. That was the
first time I can remember seriously enjoying and understanding the power of poetry. Unfortunately being a boarder meant that we
were pretty much left to fend for ourselves and there was not too much in the
way of 'encouragement'. My real focus
was on sport, specifically athletics, swimming and archery, and watching out for
my brother who was a bit of a tearaway.
Sherry: Well, poetry found you at just the right time, I suspect. What other things do
you enjoy, when you aren’t writing or working?
John: I was always a keen sportsman. I did athletics, swimming, archery, martial
arts, boxing, rugby, skiing (both snow and water), rock climbing, windsurfing,
kayaking and the list goes on.
Unfortunately the reality is those days have passed. Even if I wasn’t
injured I would still be 53 and having to calm down a bit!
Unfortunately my life revolves around managing the pain long enough to
earn the proverbial crust. My average
day is get up, hit the gym, go to work, come home and collapse. If I am lucky I will have enough strength
left to write something. My weekends are
spent recovering, although sometimes I manage to fly my power kite or go
kayaking along the Island’s spectacular South coast, which is just five minutes
from my house.
Power kiting on
Vazon Bay – West Coast of Guernsey
Oh and I dabble in a bit of Cake decorating, which is
great when I am able to sit or stand for long periods of time, but can get a
bit fraught when my pain kicks up a notch.
One of my
Christmas Cakes
Sherry: The kiting looks fun - and the cake is amazing! Is there anything you’d
like to say to Poets United?
John: Yes, three things, if I
might: firstly I would like to thank the
administrators of the Poets United blog for providing us all with such a great
platform, I know the work that this involves and I really appreciate it, as I am
sure other contributors do.
Secondly I would like
to thank all of the poets who have contributed by submitting poems or simply
adding a comment to a blog post; both these activities bring joy and we can’t
have too much of that.
Finally, I guess I would
encourage people to write about their difficulties and subjects that
challenge. That lone voice might be the
first roll of the snowball that turns into a massive avalanche, or it perhaps
it will give someone else a beacon of hope in an hour of darkness – Happy
writing.
Sherry: Thank you, John. You are so right about the beacon of hope. We have all felt the impact of poems from the heart that resonate, move us, inspire us, give us hope, remind us of what really matters.
Thank you so much for this amazing visit, and for sharing your story. What a story it is! There are many unsung heroes in this world and you, my friend, are one of them!
Wow, kids, I don't know what we'll do to top this. We might have to coast on its coattails for a while. Smiles. Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!
