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THE COLLECTOR

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THE COLLECTOR

 

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

A MAN HOLDING HIS HORSE

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    A MAN HOLDING HIS HORSE

 

    Poor Dai never got the hang of it,

    At school in our first lesson

    On art appreciation

    We studied

    'A Man Holding His Horse'

    By George Stubbs.

   

    The teacher issued us

    With notebooks

    In which to record

    Feelings and impressions

    Arising from the painting.

   

    Dai wrote...

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poetryWALESWelsh PoetryWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

A TIDAL RELATIONSHIP

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A TIDAL RELATIONSHIP

Ours was a tidal relationship,

It ebbed and flowed

Over hidden shipwrecks,

Sometimes calm,

Sometimes smashing defences,

Opening cuts on beaches

Then healing them

With the soothing sand

That fills each wound.

 

Ours was an unsteady relationship,

Seaweed covered driftwood

Slid beneath our feet

As we slipped and stumbled

Over the flots...

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poetryseaWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

A55

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 A55

 

 Wet windscreen

 High up

 Near Holywell,

 Relentless rain

 Pounding glass

 Obscuring

 Merseyside's

 Distant landmarks,

 Eyes focussed

 On tail lights.

 

 Soon we descend

 Heading eastwards

 Leaving behind

 Welsh hills

 Veiled in mist,

 Wipers waving,

 Overtaking,

 Still listening

 To Liverpool

 On the radio.

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David Subacchi.Welsh PoetryWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

PAUL KANTNER

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PAUL KANTNER
(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
Wa...

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JEFFERSON AIRPLANELiverpool poetryPAUL KANTNERPOETRYWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

HAMLET FROM THE FRONT ROW

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HAMLET FROM THE FRONT ROW

 

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

Unco...

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Liverpool poetryShakespeareWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

EXCITEMENT

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EXCITEMENT

 

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

BERSHAM

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BERSHAM

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

Reverentially

Here the miners lamps

Here the cramped cage

...

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Coal MiningLiverpool poetryLiverpool PoetsPoetryWelsh PoetsWelsh Poets.David SubacchiWrexham.

TOO LATE

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TOO LATE

 

Too late now to strike sparks with words on poetry’s anvil

Too lengthy a journey of diversion and distraction

Now weariness forces me to pause

Beside this twisted trail

My wrinkled hand trembling as I write;

Inspirations of a lifetime compete for attention

Triumph and disappointment fight to be immortalised

But the sands fall steadily

In a glass that w...

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Liverpool PoetsWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

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