Poetry Blogs (nostalgia)
And I trip over old dreams
again and again…
Five hundred times…
Endless shaky steps…
Where I loved you
like a million blue whales…
And I often long for the youth
of those ageing thoughts…
Never ending pretty helium balloons
reaching for the sun…
Knowing they will never arrive…
And what a beautiful,
yet painful sight…
A sea of sorr...
Saturday 16th January 2021 1:41 am
A babe in a pram,
Wheeled down Lord street,
At the speed of a tram.
Mouth engrossed with jelly and swine,
My mum grew up on these pies,
As an infant into the 80’s,
pate mini pork treats,
from Grimes butchers.
I suppose it is what you grew up with,
Your tastes, your clutches.
Jelly, pastry, succulent meat,
Sunday 22nd November 2020 3:01 pm
I was enjoying sitting in the garden, pondering the beauty and the timelessness of nature, compared to the fickleness and unreliability we see in our leaders and found myself writing a villanelle. First draft below – may yet be edited but I wanted to share it now.
Reminders of a life, a dream now torn
Scabia, flags and tulips, forget me nots
Behind the privet hedge a rolling lawn
Tuesday 22nd September 2020 3:37 pm
This space is like a ghost town
Trestle tables row on row
Echoing with the hustle bustle
Vendors cries of long ago
I held my mother’s hand
And listened to them shout
‘apples sixpence a pound
Come on get your money out!’
Comics stored in cardboard boxes
Toys stacked high on stands
Gleaming in the Friday sun
Just out of reach of sticky h...
Monday 6th July 2020 12:50 pm
I cant seem to wrap my head around, the reason that you left.
Maybe I'm tired or just coming down but your voice is all that's left in this silence now, I cant really answer when or how.
Sticks and stones may break my bones; but your words destroyed me
And they tell me not to dwell, just to let it on go but as the silence grows louder I'm losing grips of the rope. If only I could carry ...
Wednesday 24th June 2020 4:35 pm
I wonder what happens
To the poorly drawn images
We keep abreast as children,
Sheltered inside our notebooks and their crinkly pages.
I envisage those pages accompanying
Balloons, bubbles and butterflies,
And the colors in them adorning
The sallow face of the sky.
I like to believe that my poorly chalked out blades of grass
Somehow appended the greenery on earth
Thursday 7th May 2020 8:47 pm
My Mother’s Kitchen
I’m in my mother’s kitchen
It’s a Monday afternoon
The oven’s heated up the air
The buns will be out soon
Everywhere there’s an aroma
Of cinnamon and spice
An apple pie sits on the table
I’m waiting for a slice
A black-leaded coal fire
Does it’s best to dominate
The heat and the smells
That the baking permeates
An old fridge hums...
Tuesday 28th April 2020 2:50 pm
Corners caress the bricks
breading that familiar shape,
in which to pace fingertips,
reimagine and fall
the abode of cliché,
the same smitten desires,
plotted here in prints of feet
the way they moved,
the way they moved,
the way they moved,
nostalgic tracks swoon you low
to the floor, roused but not here.
Friday 10th April 2020 8:37 pm
When sun comes against all odds
And the colours of life just pop
Or when the rain falls
It falls and falls
And you wet your lips
With piping hot tea
With warm biscuit
Savour the crumbs
Cosy and safe
In the arms of a jumper
The padding of the sofa,
Like a huge hug
Or when your face aches,
Your stomach vibrates
Because you are fighting to breathe
Tuesday 18th February 2020 5:52 am
The complication of those earrings
the texture of the paint around your eyes
the sun's highlights in your hair
The redness of those parting lips
such belief in everything we said
the pristine shape of your nose
Lying on the roof
your head close to my heart
summer blushing the sky
weren't we beautiful
weren't we beautiful then
Nothing to fret about
just prolong the passing day
Tuesday 20th August 2019 5:33 pm
rhyme this with everything I am
bit of everything I have
rhyme this to make it livable again
at another needed moment, from the corner of my head.
squeeze this into another view
or lay it out, spread on by you
or anyway that translates bliss
to blissless stormful blanks
that look for it parched, helpless
Tuesday 16th July 2019 3:55 pm
it were cracking’t pavements
the sky were chelsea blue
you were sucking cider
from an ice lolly
cos they said it made yer drunk
and we pretended it did
when yer scored a goal
on’t hay coloured pitch
yer mates were hot ‘n sweaty
and their celebrations
trickled down yer back
and salted yer lips
there were standpipes
at end’er sherwood...
Wednesday 10th April 2019 12:36 pm
I don't know
what it amounts to,
if there is to have
any sort of
what we etched,
in the utmost
I sure don't find any reason for that, now.
reading our letters,
Wasn’t it, though?
Did we merge into 'another' reality, somehow...
Monday 21st January 2019 6:48 pm
I've got green stained knees
they remind me of you.
its the color of what once was your room
that you always said you hated,
yet you never bothered to paint it.
where we stayed up till 4 am
dreaming of our future flat.
visions of blue walls
and pictures of waterfalls
because you were in to that sort of thing.
Now I'm laying in the summer grass
as God’s tears come trickling down,
Wednesday 25th April 2018 1:42 pm
Are the essence of a highschool choir
That sings often the sounds of Queen in the style of acapella
But also the rolling notes of Ezekiel Saw the Wheel
And the thumping heart of Elijah Rock.
How Can I Keep From Singing
When piano pushed
And the opening notes gently pulled in, to meet a booming brillance
My life goes on in endless song
And I recall the disconnect...
Friday 8th December 2017 8:20 pm
The landlord called this morning
Said that she could tell I just woke up. To call her back later.
The cold was different to me, this late morning
Hazy, paired with rain
Drizzled, Murky, Heavy air that swept through the knit of my hoodie.
The branches lay next to the garage in a consecutively non-organized fashion, taken back by hand a few times
To the old burning pile ...
Saturday 28th October 2017 4:50 pm
Here's a kind of slaggy one:
Where are those carrier bags?
No, not those recycled poncy type.
The slaggy ones, a slip of plastic,
with Key Markets or Tesco on the side,
Like me Mum had.
Throw away ones - which is exactly
what you did.
Shamelessly, without a single qualm.
plenty more where they came from.
Don't get me wrong, I salute those...
Friday 13th October 2017 12:11 pm
A wistful vagueness presides over my aura
The night was clearer than ever
Now wasn’t the time,
Now I was headed to a service sublime
But do I regret these impressions viewed from my window?
This ‘ere song from a vintage past
It crooned of simpler days,
It blasted my hopes into the freezing air
Carried me back to a time that wasn’t there
And I couldn’t help ...
Wednesday 9th August 2017 5:47 am
The end of the season
Brought to a close
Even when there’s a reason
Summer comes and goes
Do you know your summer’s a-fading,
Do you remember?
The hot sun, the warm cooled nights waning
School was gone, and I — carefree all along
Oh! Now my old school worries are back
As that sun sets, I’m in sad song
Those shining days, soon to lack
The air beco...
Friday 4th August 2017 11:42 pm
Present — past
Past — gone
Looking back and remembering the yesterdays
Where is NOW?
Where is it?
Living in the THEN…
No, that’s not NOW, not it!
The ghost of yesterday
Is in mind
But looking back
Is the NOW you’ll never find.
Thursday 3rd August 2017 12:57 am
Will the birds sing in the garden
Will we go down to the sea
Will we build our castles of sand
Will there still be scones for tea
Will my father still be smoking
Will he jog me on his knee
Will summer days still last forever
Will there still be scones for tea
Will we dream of great adventures
Will westerns still be on TV
Will we sit ar...
Wednesday 22nd March 2017 5:06 pm
The Making Of A Worker.
The lorry tips its rubble
On the road outside our house,
the privet hedge engulfed
in a primordial cloud of dust,
it drives away in chugging glee
having spilled its heavy load
and we stand and watch it go
as the carbon mountain settles.
The sergeant-major father
barks his orders at the troops
and our little hands clasp tight
Tuesday 2nd February 2016 8:01 pm
California by day,
Las Vegas by night,
with flat caps, deckchairs,
and other English sensibilities,
once dying, maybe still,
while trams rattle declaring
to stargate pleasures,
to Cher and her 'life after love',
entwined with the pulse of a rollercoaster.
Sounds of Saturday football matches,
played hard on soft sand,
menace resting seagull...
Tuesday 17th November 2015 8:15 pm
I miss the little things.
My schoolyard friends,
The summer's end,
My childish dreams.
And fear this too
Of tomorrow's day.
When I will say,
Today was full.
If Hope lies ahead
And happiness back,
It can only track
That now is dead.
The present is skiewed,
By what was then,
The future's when,
And how they're viewed.
Thursday 20th August 2015 11:57 am
When I started freelance piano
London pubs were my salvation
I cut my teeth on lonely bars
in decrepit streets or bland estates.
Those hesitant efforts of mine rang out
to frame the lager and the stout
with familiar figures in leatherette chairs.
cardigans and flares with afro hairs.
Sleeves rolled up and braced for action
the working man and his satisfaction.
Friday 17th July 2015 4:23 pm
The railway carriage, a lurching labyrinth
of doors corridors people crabbed in passing
had stopped with its locomotive up front
fuming with rage
held back by down signal on our cage
of viaduct leaning into a curve.
The day boiled, the rails hissed in waiting.
I looked at the street below active
and unaware of us.
Up close the racks and maps, smiling hills in paste...
Saturday 11th July 2015 10:06 pm
Look close, look far
Cars come, cars go
tortured, metal boxes, smudged colours
on tattered tarmac.
Pneumatic drill sounds, distant
hammering, dry clatter
on summer paving.
A man, newspaper
folds and departs kiosk
shimmered in sun.
The calls from traders
I heard them, then
did not hear them
(refused to hear them).
Stepped inside a p...
Friday 26th June 2015 5:11 pm
Once Upon A Time
rattling and clinking
with their gaudy shades
of potions slopping.
groaning up the hill
breathing their dragons breath
of carbon dust.
The aged magik
of a ramshackle
and the clanging of the last.
The shout of
“Rag and Bone”
a Monday morning.
selling chocolate cigars
to little mimics
Wednesday 6th May 2015 7:09 pm
When there are no mirrors
I am young again
Sitting in the warming glow
of distant years
The aches and pains
will all be gone tomorrow
The days are long
and never seem to grey.
Parents are in another room
just out of hearing
The T.V has three channels
all black and white
Three meals a day
are sitting on the table
The bonfire smoke
creates the evening dusk.
Another time I...
Tuesday 28th April 2015 7:49 pm
A sheet of ice on black pavement gleaming
As frost, settled on shrubs, illuminates
A white powder morning and activates
The sound of grass, underneath feet, crunching.
I with my twin brother wander, beaming
Along the path untouched, to what fascinates
The mind of two children and resonates,
Bridging the gap between awake and dreaming.
For brief moments the world was fr...
Sunday 1st February 2015 7:05 am
Oh how I miss the Northern Charm
Builders' Tea and Bacon barm
Pie ’n’ peas and Cheshire cheese
Drivers that stay calm
People speak without a plum
Ecky thump and ee by gum
Tripe and Onions, Granny’s bunions
Boddies Bitter bites yer bum
Cheshire cats the grinning mousers
Tacchini wearing scally Scousers
West Pennine shower, Blackpool Tower
Our backyard and ...
Wednesday 3rd September 2014 9:42 pm
Here’s the suit I wore when I was newly born
It’s not worth taking to the charity shop
People today prefer brand new,
So may as well drop it in the skip
Ah, my favourite old t-shirt
Once I wore it every day
But now may as well rip it up and make it into cloths
It’s only thin, it’ll easily rip
I know that jacket so well
I wore it on my wedding day
Saturday 15th March 2014 6:06 pm
Any Winter Saturday In Nineteen Seventy
multi-coloured, sweet, cloying battenberg
taking away the bitter taste of defeat
it’s yellow and pink uniformity
In sharp contrast to the soft curves of the settee
putting ones and two’s and crosses
next to the selections on the pools
a dirty yellow stain hangs over the chair
where my father coughs and splutters on his tea
blacks and whites and ...
Sunday 2nd February 2014 7:39 pm
The Dee Jay sets the beat
Ah, those youthful days of discothèques
Of short skirts and dancing girls
At the club down Oxford Street
Wide collared shirts
And tapered flares
We’d check out the gorgeous girls
Every girl was a beauty
And every chat up line was good
Though they didn’t always work as well as they should
Thursday 26th September 2013 4:00 am
Fake nostalgia spews out from your head
For a sepia England that was never there
Hatred junkie, you know
Where the blood river flows
Feel the bile at your knees
Marching bands drown out your higher brain
Blaring voices drive your soul insane
Hatred junkie, you feel
Like a cog on a wheel
Grinding so out of time – after time
God made you useless...
Tuesday 18th June 2013 1:03 pm
At our school we wore red ties and big, blue, woolly sweaters.
Groaning, frowning, learning all those numbers, saints and letters.
The nuns were big and ruthless and they loved to swish the cane.
The summer skies were always blue, it never seemed to rain.
I had a cat sewn in my bag - I couldn’t read my name -
till some wise wit made fun of it – I n...
Friday 26th April 2013 7:16 pm
In that place
The summers were always hot and the skies completely blue.
And in that place
Where nothing ever hurt me
A lie was never spoken; it was all completely true
In that place
When the morning sun spilled into my room and woke me
Then I’d be up and out and riding my bike
And in that place
The place where I’d be the fastest biker ever...
Wednesday 2nd January 2013 7:11 am
I close my eyes
and as I doze
years melt away
I see as clear
as that distant day
the railway station
steam trains abound
promise of travel
to distant towns
the sight and sound
of the mighty engines
as they rhythmically
hiss, chuff, whistle
and clank their way
on the bright iron rails
midst billowing clouds
Tuesday 19th July 2011 3:20 pm
on rainy Saturday mornings
a well-spent ninepence
was all it took
to leave a headscarfed mother
in some chattering queue
for luncheon meat
or lardy cake
and step inside the transport
to Planet Zog
Or Dead Man’s canyon
via Keystone or some cartoon city
fortified with Mojos
and Mambo juice
in strange shaped cartons
we’d jostle for the back r...
Friday 12th June 2009 1:06 pm