Poetry Blog by mike booth

So bid we farewell to Andy and Jel

With sadness and loss, but some joy as well,

For they are our friends, we know this will stay,

Long after the van takes their stuff away.

Andy has this house and how they have more, 

As they head to the land of hills and of Moor.

So raise up your glasses and take a wee sup,

And toast their departure, with Bottom’s Up!

The house just behind...

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Ups and Downs

Infection rates rocket, the world closes down,

Pick up the cases, stay in and alone.

High on the agendas, our confidence low,

To stop the infection, better stay home.

Down time in garden, uploading zoom,

Upturn economy, folk feeling down, 

Shutters all down, no-one in town.

All down to the cock up,

Top brass give low down,

With graphs sometimes risi...

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Loved up in Lock Down

I got loved up in lockdown, we got on really well

In moments of great crisis, on love our thoughts did dwell.

It started with some flirting, some chats and emails too,

On skype we kept on meeting, to help to get us through.

And then it got more serious, we moved it onto zoom

As Larry on the portly side said my heart just went boom.

We chatted for for...

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A 20:20 Vision

On the one hand, it’s thumbs up for this lock down,

For hand on heart, I prefer a gentler town.

We’ve lost our human contacts, now back in touch,

A world for reaching out, with more time and much 

Space for taking and for making stock.

We knead our dough, and minds unlock,

And saws are sharpened in this time of rest,

When breath and nature seem to teach ...

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Fingers Crossed

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst,

By this natural quirk our future is cursed.

Keep on keeping on and show your best side,

Together we’ll one day have parties outside.

We hide in our prison cells, watching tv,

The birds in our garden, the buds on the tree,

Our freedoms so precious now need to be lost,

As we sit here in fear, our fingers ...

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Kicks with Joe

My story is much too sad to be told, 

In lockdown, everything’s leaving me cold.

The only exception is plain to see…

Each morning after I’ve been for a pee,

And made my first cup of tea

When blurrily I switch on and see

His healthy body…

I get no kicks from champagne,

My tonic and gin

Can’t help me begin

To feel like I’m gonna get through,

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And after last bleak one, I'd like to give some balance with this message of hope and love.  

Finders Keepers

by mike booth

Wednesday 4th September 2019 5:53 pm

Hide and Seek

Put fear on the list of things you should lose

With odd socks and gloves and your second best shoes.

Let regret go with burdensome guilt,

Give them away with your second hand quilt.

Composure and pe...

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Wrote this back in 2018... and its apocalyptic tone feels frighteningly relevant now.  But as I said then, I hope we can find morsels of hope and build on love and community in these challenging times...

Write HOPE on your arm!

by mike booth

Saturday 29th September 2018 9:28 am

In the recent storms and typhoons, I heard advice from US police to people not evacuating to write theirnames...

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My dear IKEA: Flat Pack Crack Up

If the cracks start to appear

If life breaks through its thin veneer

If you pine for a new idea,

Get on down to your IKEA.

In Spring time mostly this shop calls,

As couples picture their new halls

Nightlights and beanbags in its walls,

And promise too of three meatballs!

Brochure life, you shuffle through,

Bedrooms, sofa...

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Under Parr’s Wood

A Poem inspired by Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, as read by Richard Burton, and set on Burton Road in Didsbury…

To begin at the beginning…or the end of the road, which is a kind of a beginning.

It is Spring, and the mosque stands guard, though few burqas promenade its street or frequent its bars. Its spire punctures the sky, echoes of the old Methodist Chapel and...

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The Northern Society /Grim Up North?

The Northern Club meets on t’ outskirts of town

In t’club wi’t sign fer Newcastle Brown,

T’greyhounds and whippets are tied up outside

As all things Northern are treated wi pride.

There’s chips and there’s gravy and dollops of peas

Nowt wrong wi dripping or tripe on steak pies.

No mither or scriking, no fuss and nae bother,

Just old...

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