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Welsh Poets.David Subacchi (1)

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WAITING FOR MACCA

WAITING FOR MACCA

'Long tall Sally she's built for speed'

We're waiting for Macca

'She's got everything'

At Glastonbury

'That uncle John needs'

Oldest performer to top the bill

'O babee'

Not long now

'Yeaaaaah babeee'

We just can't wait

'Havin' some fun

Tonight’ !

@David Subacchi

June 2022.

 

 

 

June 2022.

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poetrysubacchiliverpool

EQUAL IN GREATNESS

EQUAL IN GREATNESS

(For Michael Collins – Astronaut 1930-2021)

 

The fourth person to spacewalk

And the second

To orbit the moon alone

While fellow crew members

Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong

Walked on the lunar surface

 

Sometimes glory is shared unevenly

But greatness often depends

On those backstage

Silently pulling levers

And watching instruments

Al...

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poetryWelsh Poets.David SubacchiDavid Subacchi.Welsh Poetryspace

KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE PRIZE

KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE PRIZE

(For John Lewis 1940-2020)

 

When Dr King led the March on Washington in 1963

You were the youngest leader to address the crowd

And you died the last remaining speaker,

Eighty years old with strength and individuality

Acquired slowly and painfully;

The still visible baton scars

From freedom bus rides

And other peaceful protests

Prove it.

...

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american history xpoetry

INSIDE A CHRISTMAS CARD

INSIDE A CHRISTMAS CARD

Inside a Christmas card
From prisoners afraid,
In a factory in China
Where nothing much is paid,
A handwritten message
From poor souls enslaved,
In oppressive conditions
Where festive things are made.

Telł somebody beg the authors
The truth about this trade,
That those who make big money
Our wretched lives degrade
So in this season of goodwill
When joy sho...

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poetryWelsh Poets.David SubacchiDavid Subacchi

JUST ABOUT

 JUST ABOUT

  After the performance

 As grease paint

 Is wiped off,

 You can just about

 Smile into the mirror.

 

 When your costume

 Falls to the floor

 Uncared for,

 You can just about

 Step out of it.

 

 And later outside

 A closed theatre

 In the cool night air,

 You can just about

 Get over it.

(c) David Subacchi

From his collection 'Wh...

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poetryWALES

NOT REALLY A STRANGER

NOT REALLY A STRANGER

 

I don't know what the right term is

For this kind of tide

It is high but not stormy

Grey flecked with white

Slightly misty, bad tempered

I get the feeling it would like

To burst through the walls

And drown me quietly

 

I stare through the windows

Of a seafront bistro

Designed to show the bay

At its best to visitors

But the waves ...

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poetryWALESAberystwyth

A MAN HOLDING HIS HORSE

 

   

    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

ILLUSION

 

 ILLUSION

 

 Just for a while

 The feel of summer,

 Fields of sunflowers,

 Light dazzling,

 Heat caressing,

 France not Cheshire

 Kind of summer.

 

 Smell of lusty earth,

 Taste of young wine

 That won't travel,

 Freshness of fruit

 And vegetables,

 Proudly displayed

 On market stalls.

 

 Just for a while

 The illusion of summer,

 Ou...

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David SubacchipoetryWelsh Poetry

A TIDAL RELATIONSHIP

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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Welsh Poets.David Subacchipoetrysea

EVACUATING HEREFORD

 

EVACUATING HEREFORD

From Fir Tree Lane junction and the Straight Mile

Near where World War Two hand grenades were found,

They shut roads and placed a cordon around

So they could make things safe army style;

People were moved out of homes for a while

Taking all their pets, every cat and hound;

As warning cones were put down on the ground,

A real nuisance there was hardl...

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David SubacchiPoetryHereford.

BETWEEN TWO STONES

 

 BETWEEN TWO STONES

 

 Horses raced here

 Until the railway

 Cut the field in half

 Between two stones

 And a third

 No longer standing.

 

 The first excavation

 Proved this to be true

 From the clay pipes

 And wine bottles

 Now cleaned

 And catalogued.

 

 More recent surveys

 Using methods

 Geophysical

 Indicated the presence

 Of se...

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AberystwythDavid SubacchipoetryWelsh Poetry

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 Subacchipoetryfootball

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 Subacchipoetrymusic

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

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 SubacchipoetryWelsh PoetryLiverpool poetry

SIDOLO

 

 

                                                     SIDOLO

 

Spent shell casings everywhere

gleaming in the July sun

bodies of three martyrs lie

victims of a German gun

Italy is crying now

see how fast the tears run.

 

 

Three priests in nineteen forty four

slaughtered by the devil’s hand

innocent of all misdeeds

outrage sweeps throughout the land

...

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David SubacchiItalypoetrywar poetry

PAUL KANTNER

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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PAUL KANTNERJEFFERSON AIRPLANEPOETRYLiverpool poetryWelsh Poets.David Subacchi

CROSSWORDS IN THE PUB

  CROSSWORDS IN THE PUB

 

We’re doing crosswords in the pub

Because that’s what lovers do

When they fall out of love

Crosswords in the pub

 

We don’t speak much anymore

Except to discuss clues

Because that’s what lovers do

When disenchantment ensues

 

We’re doing crosswords in the pub

But at least we’re still together

Keeping each other company

Uncom...

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David SubacchipoetryWelsh PoetsLiverpool Poets

FIELD GUNS

 

FIELD GUNS

 

A pair of field guns stand

Backs to the castle

Redundant barrels

Harmlessly aimed

At the high street

A sign reads

'Please do not

Climb on the guns'

As if children

Could pose a threat

To these two

Retired killers

Worn with age

Weary with boredom

Never to speak again.

 

We stare for a while

Examine them closely

Find nothin...

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David SubacchiLiverpool PoetspoetryWelsh Poets

THE DAY BEFORE VALENTINE'S

 

 

THE DAY BEFORE VALENTINE'S

 

Is this ritual or adventure

See how quickly

The words are written

No longer anonymous

Is this a box to check

A form to fill

A contract to renew

An essential procedure

The mind indifferent

Even irritated but....

The heart restless

Insistent that this

Is not an option

Ink on cardboard

Flesh on flesh

One forever...

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David Subacchipoetryvalentines dayWelsh PoetsLiverpool Poets

JANUARY

                                                                    JANUARY

           

                                    When January wind its fist doth shake

                                    And wooden fences tear from their places

                                    When horses start, when cattle shelter take

 

                                    To the hearth...

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SubacchiPoetryWelsh PoetsLiverpool Poets

LOVE

LOVE

 

Love hides in the gap

Between sleep and dawn

In the space under stairs

The air above skies

And the void below ground

 

Love is neither left nor right

Up or down, in or out

It will not be confined

Like a ship in a bottle

Or restrained like a horse

With bit and bridle

 

Love keeps no appointment

If you ever meet love

It will spring out

Wit...

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lovepoetrySUBACCHIWelsh Poets

PLASCRUG

PLASCRUG

 

There was a great ditch

And an avenue of trees

Leading directly

From the busy town

To the cemetery’s silence

Ornate gates sick with rust

Relics of grander times

When they marked the way

To ancient Plascrug

Back and forth we jumped

Across the weed choked water

 

There was a Scout Hut

Near a playground

A row of park benches

Where we sat i...

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David SubacchiAberystwythpoetryWelsh PoetsLiverpool Poets

BERSHAM

 

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.

THE BOMB THAT DIDN'T EXPLODE

 

THE BOMB THAT DIDN'T EXPLODE

 

It’s still remembered today

The bomb that didn’t explode

That crashed through the church ceiling

During the Second World War

Sparing some three hundred lives

 

A replica may be seen

Here in the vestry corner

At St Mary’s in Mosta

With photos of the soldiers

Called to make the real bomb safe

 

And despite votive candles

...

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David SubacchiLiverpool PoetsMaltapoetryWelsh Poets

HIDING IN SHADOWS

 

HIDING IN SHADOWS

 

When I don’t call

It doesn’t mean

That you’re not there

In my thoughts

 

When I don’t write

It doesn’t mean

I have no words

In my heart

 

When I don’t answer

It doesn’t mean

You have no place

In my soul

 

When I keep silent

It doesn’t mean

I have nothing

To impart

 

When I don’t pra...

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SUBACCHIPOETRYPOET

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