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Thou shalt pass the plate of brass

With felt to deaden the ring of coins

Or take the collection

In bag of leather or bowl of wood

Remembering to avert thine eyes

At the widows mite

And the rich man’s notes.


Thou shalt wear a smile

Of indifference

Even unto those who turn their heads

Or pass the parcel quickly to their neighbour

Or over th...

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Liverpool poetryWelsh PoetryWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

purple city

Red for love Blue for sky's

A tap full of tears a mothers eyes

Dry are the lids from mourning salt

Mothers world has come to a halt

Love for truth honesty and pride

Sky is were he lives mother dying inside

Red for anger blue for healing Anger for injustice and Grief and lies

Healing for the families of those in the sky's

Red is our blood Blue our veins

Vital to living in...

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HillsboroughjusticeLiverpool poetryLiverpool Poets

Pan of Scouse

Over many many years my life was in a mess
But these days I consider my life to be a big success
I don't have a lamborghini
I don't have a big house
All i want in life is a flat a cat and a big pan of scouse
I have now piece of mind that most millionaires don't have
The simple things i like are like sitting on the lav
I sleep with a clear conscience for I have done nothing wrong
I do exact...

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Liverpool poetryLiverpool PoetsScouse


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 (Benjamin West 1738-1820 – Walker Gallery, Liverpool)


 Some think victory complete

 Raising hats celebrating,

 But others huddled solemnly

 Around the pale figure

 Know death is waiting,

 That he only lingers awhile

 To say farewell and to savour

 A little of the triumph.


 In the background a confusion

 Of sails and streaming signal...

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David SubacchiDavid Subacchi.Welsh PoetryLiverpool poetry


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 Some of us never get to feel it

 That magical moment

 When you hit the ball just right

 Or that high note

 The one that shatters glass.


 And we never experience

 The thrill of discovery

 As Lord Carnarvon

 Staring into history

 At the tomb of Tutankhamun.


 But you had more than your share

 Though you never looked for it

 They say...

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David SubacchiLiverpool poetrypoetryWelsh Poetry


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 What moved them to throw caution to the wind

 To break out of committee room and bar

 Ignoring those who warned this was too far

 Those who later condemned and said they'd sinned

 What fearsome lightning their resolve confirmed

 To face artillery and armoured car

 What deafening thunder what shooting star

 Incited rebellion, what fire that burned

 In bra...

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David Subacchiirish poetryLiverpool poetryWelsh PoetryWelsh Poets


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(Wrecked off Moelfre, Anglesey 1859)

From Melbourne to Liverpool bound

in less than fifty eight days, by sail

and steam the Royal Charter comes

via Queenstown in Ireland and around

the Skerries with cargo of wool and hides

weighted with golden dust and coins

from fortunes made in a far off land.


To Moelfre’s razor rocks on Anglesey coast

a total...

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David Subacchi.Welsh PoetryLiverpool poetry


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(1941-2016. Jefferson Airplane)

Don’t you want…

Something different from those straight singers,
Fresh faced kids in suits or beach wear;
Something better than a Willy Loman future,
War in Vietnam and conscription;
Soldiers with guns on campus
And the politicians
The ones you wouldn’t…

Somebody to love…

Yeah she was a banker’s daughter
Oh man, but her voice

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JEFFERSON AIRPLANELiverpool poetryPAUL KANTNERPOETRYWelsh Poets.David Subacchi


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After Mass                                                                                                    

you would walk us

to the newsagent

in your Sunday best

with waistcoat,

watch chain

and monogrammed



As you chatted

over the papers

Sunday Times

with News of the World

hidden inside

we each chose a gift.


I reme...

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David Subacchi.Welsh PoetryLiverpool poetryLiverpool Poets


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In the front row ready to watch Hamlet

I stretch out my legs contentedly

“These are the best seats and the cheapest

You can see everything from here”

Says the guy next to me

“It’s like being part of the action”

I nod politely


The ghost doesn't appear

We have to imagine him

At the back of the theatre

So we swivel our heads


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Liverpool poetryShakespeareWelsh Poets.David Subacchi


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Not the TV host with a brazen giggle
Winding up the gormless on ‘Blind Date’
Or tugging tears on ‘Surprise Surprise’
Nor the glittering star, clutching champagne
In morose interviews after Bobby’s death
Her grief bubbling up
Pressing behind aching eyes

But the fragile, stick thin girl
Trembling on stage
Warmed only by a single
And cruel spotlight
Picking out every contour

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Cilla Black.David Subacchi.Welsh PoetryLiverpool poetry


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Almost a year after he died
I’m wearing my father’s watch
Automatic, Swiss, 1947
I looked it up on line
The local old fashioned jeweller
Says it’s a very nice watch
Leave it alone, don’t mess with it
Just wear it all the time
It has old fashioned ways
A turn before bed, another
In the morning and one
Just about midday
Although automatic
It needs the attention

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David SubacchiItalyLiverpool poetryWelsh Poetry


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This is a chisel of precise age unknown

With handle smoother than the skin

Of a child. I have sharpened the blade

By rubbing it on stone. Feel its bite.


This is a wood plane given to me

By an old man who had it

From his father. Their spirits guide

My hands. Feel its weight.


This is a machine I bought myself

Under its skin of shiny plastic

Is an...

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David Subacchi.Welsh PoetryLiverpool poetryLiverpool poets


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Once there were three offices here

One north, one south

And the regional one above

First time I visited

‘Chelsea Girl’ was below

A security guard stood on duty

Just inside our entrance

They say he sold fruit and veg

When the bosses weren’t looking


Later other shops

Occupied ground and first

If you didn’t take the lift

You could hear their ...

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LiverpoolLiverpool poetryLiverpool Poets


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That snow white Vauxhall Cresta

With its red leather seats

And stunning chromium bumpers

Flashing through the town streets

In the front passenger seat

I waved to friends going by

As dad raced the engine

Keeping the rev counter high


That pure white Vauxhall Cresta

With its iconic look

A classic sixties motor

The best one in the book

The pu...

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David SubacchiLiverpool poetryLiverpool PoetsWelsh PoetsWelsh Poets.David Subacchi


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We wonder amongst the ruins

Rusting trucks and cutting gear

Severed cables protruding

From weathered walls

And the pit head wheel

Still proud above us

Preserved temporarily

By municipal crumbs

And volunteer labour


Only open occasionally

For public inspection

We whisper questions


Here the miners lamps

Here the cramped cage


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Coal MiningLiverpool poetryLiverpool PoetsPoetryWelsh PoetsWelsh Poets.David SubacchiWrexham.


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This faded slab stands to commemorate

David Lewis of ‘The Conqueror’ late

A Montgomery man ‘The Old Commodore’

Who served under Nelson in times of war

Then as a harbourmaster in peacetime

A grand old seadog not far past his prime

Here in Aberystwyth he lived and died

His watchful eye always on the tide

In this peaceful town on Cardigan Bay

He dropped...

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AberystwythDavid SubacchiLiverpool PoetryLiverpool PoetsWelsh Poets


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This man won medals for bravery

Served in a world war

Mourned for his dead comrades but never

Complained about it

Came home, collected his demob suit

Walked away whistling

Determined to make the best of it


This other man lost a limb, didn’t care

That you would notice

Completed his education then

Went on to hack it

Never asked for...

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David SubacchiLiverpool poetryWALES.AberystwythWelsh Poets


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Sing me a lullaby

Of breaking glass

The click of stilettoes

As they pass

The scrape of Cuban heels

On paving stones


Sing me a lullaby

Of drunken groans

Rock me to the rhythm

Of lovers moans

Leave the light on downstairs

As darkness falls


Sing  me a lullaby

Of cats on walls

Police sirens outsi...

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Liverpool poetryLiverpool Poetspoetry and music


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a mouthful of a name
meeting of two rivers
that flow into the sea
youthful memories of
a town still tugging
at my sleeve like
the hauling of nets
bursting with fish
the smell of diesel
and blood on the
harbour wall
all caravans and students,
churches, castles, seagulls,
soggy ice creams,
postcards, monuments

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Liverpool poetryLiverpool PoetsWALES.Aberystwyth

This is Pros and Coms

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Hi Every body.. we recently did an interview with Bay Tv Liverpool. If u r ever in Lark Lane on Thursdays pop in Its Free entry.

Check out the video


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Live MusicLiverpoolLiverpool poetry

Make it a date with Ralph Killey

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Make it a date at 8pm this Thursday with The PENNY LANE POET Vinyl Bar 88-90 Lark Lane

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comedyLive MusicLiverpoolLiverpool poetry

Make it a date at 8pm

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Make it a date at 8pm this THURSDAY with Sophie Anderson @VinylLarkLane http://t.co/DDRJEd4ZqZ

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comedyLive MusicLiverpool poetry


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A shot of espresso

With hot water

That’s Americano

So much larger

If you want to linger

To take it all in


The cup like a soup bowl

Saucer like a plate

Steam rising before me

Strong aroma

Of roasted coffee beans

A soothing blackness


O Americano

How I love you

How I long to feel your heat

And your bi...

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Impatient springtime

caressing the shore line

under a watercolour sky,

gentle white tipped

blue waves with breezes

blowing in our ears

whispering of warmth,

teasing us to put away

colder morning memories,

urging the shedding of

woollen scarves and the

lengthening of dog leads.


Copyright(c)David Subacchi.2012

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David SubacchiLiverpool poetry

My one day friend, Mark

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  To Liverpool

By: Ali Taha Alnobani
On Vernon street
Off Dale street
I sat near the sidewalk
At the edge
Like a broken bridge
People were passing
With their robot walking
Sea gulls felt my pain
Also did the rain
And my one day friend Mark
Who heard the voice of gulls in my heart
And my desire to start
His frien...

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be friends?fogfriends of the earthfriendshipgoodbyegoodbyesJulie GoodyearlifeLiverpoolLiverpool poetrylove poemslove poetrymel my dear friendmercysidemysteriousMysteryold friendspeacepoetryriver


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What starts as romance

Ends up as routine

With variations

For years in between

Anonymous cards

Carefully picked verse

Until you just sign

For better or worse

And each time you try

To write your own lines

You find out how hard

Are good Valentines.



Copyright(C)David Subacchi 2013


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Liverpool poetrySUBACCHIValentines


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Is this the final indignity

Your royal bones in the common view

Your curved spine exposed to mockery

Collected from a Leicester car park


Was defeat at Bosworth not enough

Thrown from your horse into a field of blood

Betrayed by those in whom you trusted

Wounded by a bard’s cruel fantasies


Richard last of the Plantagenets

Where ...

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historical figuresLiverpool poetry

Introducing Pros&Coms

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HI Everyone,

We are Pros and Coms and are new to Write Out Loud. We were told this is were the cool poets hang out and we want to hang with you. From time to time we have 5 poetry slots on our bill if you are from liverpool and the surrounding area we would invite you to be a part of it. At the minute the only reward we can offer are the sound of clapping from our lovely audience. So please...

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eventLiverpool poetrywelcome

Goodness Gracious - a video poem by Ged Thompson


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fuck you!Liverpool poetryPoetrySnobbery


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Un café e un limoncello

A coffee and a limoncello

Dopo il pranzo

After dinner

Un café e un limoncello

I am captivated by ritual

For me food and drink

Have to mean something

Dopo il riso , dopo il vino

Per piacere, please

Un café e un limoncello

After the rice, after the wine

There’s plenty of time

For a ...

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ItalyLiverpool poetrynorth wales artsPCSoho

In The Red Magazine, The Scarf Game

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Hello all!

A bit of a plug here for Issue 8 of In The Red Magazine, which is being launched in Chameleon Bar in Liverpool City Centre this sunday at 6pm. It will be available to purchase in News From Nowhere on Bold Street and other locations.

My poem, The Scarf Game will be printed, (hence the plug) I have included a preview from the middle of the poem-  buy the magazine for the full v...

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in the redLiverpoolLiverpool poetrypoetry eventpoetry magazinescarf gamesea

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