Poetry Blog by David Subacchi (2017)

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ANOLINI

ANOLINI

 

Anolini – pasta shells stuffed with meat

And cooked in broth, is what we’re eating;

Steam rises from plates but there’s no speaking,

We sip Chianti to moderate the heat

The first to break silence admits defeat;

Parmesan a generous sprinkling,

Grated black pepper our noses crinkling;

Each Christmas a ritual we repeat.

 

This dish from the mountains of Ital...

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ANOLINIFOODITALIAN COOKINGITALYSUBACCHI

PALM TREES

 

  PALM TREES

 

 The palm trees at Alghero

 Are of impressive height and girth

 Their solidity demonstrates confidence;

 Sometimes we touch them

 Hoping to be made strong too.

 

 In their shade we shelter

 From baking sun,

 Under their protection

 Friendships are made

 On sultry August evenings.

 

 Nearby in an ornate church

 Time ticks away in marb...

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David SubacchipoetrySardinia

SONNET FOR ROONEY

  SONNET FOR ROONEY

 So I gets this call from Gareth Southgate

 And he's laying it on like marmalade,

 Saying come back Rooney you've got it made

 Playing for Everton, O what a state!

 I thought your ambition was to be great!

 England's not a problem don't be afraid,

 At Goodison you'll always make the grade,

 So get those three lions back on you mate.

 

 But I though...

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David Subacchifootballpoetry

BASS GUITAR

 

  BASS GUITAR

 

 The bass guitar is not loud enough

 He explained solemnly

 Unless it rattles your cufflinks

 In the back row

 It's not concerned with melody

 Just there to add some body.

 

 That was a long time ago

 In our long hair days

 The next time we met

 His locks had disappeared

 Mine were slowly thinning

 I reminded him of his saying.

 

...

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David Subacchimusicpoetry

A PIECE OF IRON

 

A PIECE OF IRON

 

Here in accordance with Italian tradition

A piece of iron, a vintage bottle opener;

How easily it slips into the hand,

How hard it worked and for so long

Removing numerous crown tops,

How often thrown across bar or café

From one sweating palm to another,

Then how long redundant, abandoned

In a drawer or some dark corner.

 

May your marriag...

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David SubacchiPoetry

DEATH OF NELSON

 

 DEATH OF NELSON

 (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

GEORGE MARTIN

GEORGE MARTIN

 

 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

1916

 

 1916

 

 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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