Poetry Blog by Steven Waling


GHOST TRAINS ON THE MIDDLEWOOD WAY                                                   



the boundaries of          yakkity yak       

yakkity yak        yakkity yak        cities


ripped outlines      in the pub railway geeks

yakkity yak        a moment of insanity      yakkity

yak       umbelliferare umbrella lost platforms


yakkity      find yourself yakkity   ...

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This is where she keeps her objet d’art

glass cabinet at the back of her head


            nowhere to display them


I’m a front room, Christmas, 50’s. 60’s

maybe into the 70’s and I ask

what was the front room for?


English clipped tones and a mother not

unlike my own through china eyes of an owl


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Last poem of the year

Prayer Text




U awake? We’ve had some

problems say prayers will u

with your account I feel


so bad can you make it

We’ve just added your Come

4 lunch See u I just don’t


kno how tonite I’m going to

say prayers will u running

ok to carry on Hang in there


I don’t even kno U awake?

how to pray Still don’t kno

can you find ou...

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Breakfast Roll

wake to a new


                        out of

                                                wholewheat flakes

                                    towers fall

                                                buy bread

                        a bomb



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No Call for It




not much call for

Bismarck and the Entente Cordiale

in these parts I suggest

the Civil Service Exams


small feet run in my family really

for reference only do you own

a suit solid ladder to a pension

one day these facts won’t


need you the assassination of Franz

Ferdinand by the Black Hand Gang led

through various...

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The Word No Is A Long Sentence

for Conscientious Objectors’ Day



‘Ez for war I calls it murder

put under close arrest entered

this place for the word No

is a long sentence six months

hard labour dark as the night


that covers me Did not wear khaki

until forced refusing to be made

into a soldier dragged to the French

coast to make example of Owe

no man anything ente...

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Surfaces May Be Slippery


This poem was recently published in Manhattan Poetry Review :


Due to inclement syntax

it seemed we were in the Far North

the next station is Isengaard (sic.)


            Fafnir and Thor skate eyes

            over  snowblind streets

            stationary with cars


a group of bleak and morbid etchings

there’s only so many ways to say white...

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Incident Tape

completely horse a mounted officer

by the home of the beer and burger



cordoned sun and church bells


haptic air


me officer     I was at home

with a nice little anecdote

and a Cabernet Sauvignon

about growing up


            ‘can you prove that

            let’s get bungalowed


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  • 2010 - 2014 (9)

Recent Comments

Greg Freeman on GHOST TRAINS ON THE MIDDLEWOOD WAY (Fri, 28 Feb 2014 07:24 am)

winston plowes on GHOST TRAINS ON THE MIDDLEWOOD WAY (Thu, 27 Feb 2014 11:48 pm)

Steven Waling on FRONT ROOMS: AS ESSAY (Thu, 29 Dec 2011 01:39 pm)

Chris Co on FRONT ROOMS: AS ESSAY (Wed, 28 Dec 2011 05:38 pm)

Isobel on FRONT ROOMS: AS ESSAY (Fri, 23 Dec 2011 04:36 pm)

Ray Miller on FRONT ROOMS: AS ESSAY (Fri, 23 Dec 2011 04:34 pm)

Val Cook on FRONT ROOMS: AS ESSAY (Fri, 23 Dec 2011 03:58 pm)

Ann Foxglove on Prayer Text (Tue, 7 Jun 2011 05:43 pm)

Cynthia Buell Thomas on Prayer Text (Mon, 6 Jun 2011 10:44 am)

Julian (Admin) on Breakfast Roll (Wed, 16 Mar 2011 04:05 pm)

melanie coady on Breakfast Roll (Tue, 15 Mar 2011 09:36 am)

Steven Waling on Breakfast Roll (Mon, 14 Mar 2011 09:58 am)

Ann Foxglove on Breakfast Roll (Mon, 14 Mar 2011 06:35 am)

Anthony Emmerson on Breakfast Roll (Sun, 13 Mar 2011 11:46 pm)

Ray Miller on Breakfast Roll (Sun, 13 Mar 2011 05:43 pm)


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