Poetry Blog by Ralph Dartford
Here doctor, here we all are,
the lonely hearts of Blighty.
Hunched up in your waiting rooms.
Confused, broken and flighty.
We all scream
Big Pharma they are all shouting,
that we haven’t got enough.
They’ll dishing out chemical kisses,
and these tablets are the love.
We all scream...
Monday 14th October 2019 3:00 pm
December 26th (after Vasko Popa)
Don’t disturb, shake or open. Just bare to stare at it a while.You can only guess what’s inside. And you will, of course. It’s irresistible, isn’t it? Within, there could be dreams, ambition, some hatred. A ball of string of unknown length, a lone broken heart, perhaps. Actually, don’t guess, because rumours are sometimes for those whose nose will lead us to p...
Wednesday 9th October 2019 10:36 pm
How you been?
You’re looking well.
Perhaps a little thin.
Yes. I’d love to meet you for lunch.
Give me a week, I’ll give you a bell.
No, I can’t come out right now, Ralphie boy.
I won’t sniff around to your smell.
Lovely to see you again, Mr Dartford.
It’s been the longest of times.
I bet in preparation for this interview
Sunday 29th September 2019 10:30 pm
There’s indentations on this
chipboard wall from bedposts,
punched sex and addiction.Take
away menus in the hallway gloss
over red gasbills. Her birthday card.
This keyhole is worn. Busted
with burn marks and glue. There’s
a carved name on the doorframe.
Unfinished and uncontested.
On the front step, a bottle of milk curdles
sweetly from four days hot wi...
Thursday 26th September 2019 8:57 am
I’ve sat in circles of addicts and heard
stories of belief and higher powers. Of
gods of our own understanding worth
more than Jesus and a burning bush.
I’ve never joined in this feast. I’d pinch
salt to melt my own suffering. That was
just enough to see me home to bed. My
act of living is a small volume of poetry.
But today at the station I saw a man so...
Wednesday 25th September 2019 2:01 pm
I’ve got just 10 copies left now of pre publication copies of ‘Recovery Songs’ left. The book is not officially published until the 17th October.
If you’d like to buy a copy, they cost £11.49 (including first class postage) and you can get it here.
Here are some information about the book and some reviews:
Monday 2nd September 2019 10:54 pm
Saturday night late
and the girl’s shoes
can’t walk in a straight line.
There’s a man leering as she
pulls her skirt an inch lower
to the height of her thighs.
A bottle smashes
a birthday kiss forever.
A step forward and to
the right and the couple
just might have had a life
by the sea. Grandchildren, love.
Sunday 1st September 2019 10:12 am
Perhaps once every other summer
there are those sacred hours. When
the air, the fragrance and the heat
of the sun are all in this singular place.
Sometimes It’s hard to touch nostalgia,
but I swear I almost saw you today.
A trimmed rose, a bookmarked
page. Telling me what was for tea.
Wednesday 28th August 2019 4:45 pm
Realisations are sometimes horrific.
The empty biscuit tin, the final scrape
of butter. The dirty penny from the jar.
Breath, when taken deeply, will
dislodge truths that were stuck
and locked, if we slowly exhale.
The way the men held me down
and entered me that night, or the
last time you said you loved me.
Wednesday 28th August 2019 4:43 pm
I wish I owned
a big house
with a big wall
so that everyone
I love and have
ever loved were
all inside, safe,
sound and warm.
Because a storm
has come now
to engulf us,
to tear us apart.
We’ll need glue
My mothers lucky charms.
Friday 23rd August 2019 11:19 am
He’s always been tricks of light, you know.
Los Angeles, the East Yorkshire Wolds.
A right caution in his naughty boy days:
a bug eyed, paint stained screamer.
But standing here upon this stone
with ghosts of weavers, twitch and bone.
The point is he’s unraveling joy.
Life is short when in-between.
He’s working fast from hedge and ditch.
Wednesday 21st August 2019 4:39 pm
My heartbreak thought
that to smoke crack
would take away the pain.
‘Just one more little rock.’
My mother thought
that to drink stout would
cure her of her cancer.
‘Guinness is good for you!’
My father thought
that to back white horses
would make him millions.
‘You’ve got to have a system.’
They are both dead
and deserted no...
Thursday 8th August 2019 8:38 pm
Here. On the other side of the
world, the truth is over exposed
for history’s whim. A discoloration.
Here. The locals sneer at the English,
restrict oxygen to the indigenous,
cannot understand the word, ‘generous’.
Here. Convenience forgets kindness, buries
a bone so it won’t grow. Flies cultivate on
hate. This ‘here’ is anywhere, but there.
Wednesday 31st July 2019 9:01 pm
So anyway folks, to get back to luck
and where we were before being abruptly
interrupted by the consensus of opinion.
Let’s discuss the resolution of how we
live and die, the constitution of the masons.
My opinion is to continue the culling,
take what was never rightfully ours.
The only argument is when to slaughter.
But let’s back to luck and the masons,
Sunday 30th June 2019 4:59 pm
Red roses and creosote.
Overalls and medium wave.
Jimmy Saville spins
the hits from the years.
We revise geography
in our teenage underwear.
Motes of pollen swirl in
a roll. We can’t feel it
there is air.
On our radio,
war correspondents dictate
the truth of living and dying -
the moments of in-be...
Sunday 23rd June 2019 5:57 pm
clutched for nothing
This knotted man
is undone, nightly.
He two steps the pier
as if dancing to Basie.
Memories thrumming his head,
a persistent moth
that finally settles
to a baseball card
on a back bicycle wheel.
The road melt day in 1962,
riding with Stephen Chambers,
to the lighthouse and beyond...
Wednesday 12th June 2019 7:54 am
On a Bench at St Osyth’s Bay
If only Franz Ferdinand had taken
a holiday in rainy St Osyth‘s.
If only they’d stopped Hitler at Nuremberg
with love and fresh white scented roses.
If only Blair had taken Ecstasy with
Bush in a tranced up field of bliss.
If only Lampard’s goal had not been dissallowed,
a wife could have been saved with a kiss.
Tuesday 11th June 2019 9:50 am
In Manchester. A meal with my therapist.
And she said, I’d become a terrorist
to her thoughts of the unkempt heart.
But I only asked the question, ‘Will these
Oysters give me indigestion?
Or will the flatulence tear us apart?’
Monday 13th May 2019 12:51 pm
Be careful of
whom you choose,
but do it today.
Find one, interlock,
it will help you.
If only for seconds.
For these are the
days when the cat
has our tongues.
Sunday 12th May 2019 1:38 pm
Please let them die,
put them inside.
They are nowt
but smack heads
I love my job
beans for pennies,
as the rich shaft
me right up the bum.
Saturday 11th May 2019 6:13 pm
And they say to me,
these kind people.
‘Come with us,
we will relieve
you of sorrow.
For what you have
is a disease.
A malady of the soul.’
I can’t do that and won’t.
Because to carry is to own.
The things I did were not
conjured by gods or devils.
That’s far too easy.
Thursday 9th May 2019 4:27 pm
I notice that my shoe lace is
undone as I sit down on the kerb
and listen to the street band
blow and pull faces of exhilaration.
I could tie it now or just smoke
this cigarette as the sun sets sharply
over my New Orleans and worry
about the consequences later.
I trip and fall to my knees often.
It’s noted and laughed at by many.
But this city accep...
Thursday 9th May 2019 4:26 pm
We first met at a chemist in Hackney.
I had acne. You, a yeast infection.
Oh how we laughed! Ha ha ha..
Bit on reflection,
I shouldn’t have mentioned
because it caused a tension
that love bite on your neck,
but what the heck, there
was something between us.
And as we walked to Dalston,
you were such a caution,
as you told me of your lovers.
A life liv...
Sunday 5th May 2019 7:23 pm
What we are.
Mutton dressed as lamb.
A grainy gravy
that tastes of
stiff upper lip,
The same as it ever was.
side plated with fat,
apple pie and custard.
Give us this.
a deep blue sea.
Friday 3rd May 2019 10:05 am
On my own on the other side of
the world, the sky over exposed
to gravity’s whim, to disorientation.
The locals here sneer at the English,
restrict oxygen to the indigenous,
cannot understand the word, ‘generous’.
And I’m five fathoms high with altitude
at an all time low. The flies always
settling. I’m anywhere but home.
Tuesday 30th April 2019 2:57 pm
We pitched our tents at
Big Sur and sat around
talking about freedom.
We slept under rainfall
and in the morning left;
trapped by all that jazz.
On the way back to Frisco,
you told me I made you lonely.
That freedom was for the birds.
Tuesday 30th April 2019 8:26 am
As a man of a ruck-sacked
youth, I found myself in an
Amsterdam hotel room.
Clutching the sheets in
paranoia as the ceiling fan
But although it felt like death,
the fellatio of your vowels, render
revaluation a worthwhile cause.
Monday 29th April 2019 7:11 am
Coiled on the verges of
England’s old backroads
in April’s pollutant sunshine
hiss a nation’s ancient snakes.
The occasional car passes,
but it’s the others they’ll bite.
The tired Shylocks and Muslims.
The Romanians and the Golliwogs.
Sunday 28th April 2019 3:19 pm
In a New Town hallway,
opposite the cupboard that
hid a menagerie of coats
with secrets in their pockets,
rested our technology.
Avocado in tone and mutant of trill.
It was the business headquarters
of a family facing the final third
of the twentieth century with
the optimism of post war spivs.
My dad with his greyhound
tips and building site blackmail...
Sunday 28th April 2019 1:23 pm