I am from Altrincham, a suburb of Manchester. I enjoy walking my dog, reading and writing poetry, family life, friends, beer, novels, music (especially Country music, Mozart and Bach), history (especially the history of Byzantium), cricket and sunny days. My favourite three poets are John Donne, WB Years and Sylvia Plath. I hope you can find some of my poems that you can enjoy reading. I seek to advocate for the Ezedi people of norther Iraq who have been subject to a genocide by the Islamic State terrorists that began in August 2014. "....genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.” T. S. Eliot, from the essay "Dante." SPRING SNOW We walk a steep and slippery way, Mixing senses in synaesthesia’s way, It seem as if I am a chorus in a play We feel by measures, hidden from the eye; Time is borrowed, blue days wasted, time slips by, I walk along a steep and scattered way. Winter seeps me into sleep, now my soul flies, To compose this gist of an art, Unborrowed from time or tide; I learn by going, where I have to go, inside. Dark holds imagination in thrall, Fear reverberates terror that, I know, can paralyse mind and sense, Impulses frozen, like snow: I wake to sleep and take my waking home with me... Some seek with all their senses stripped away Others watch as skies fade to a kipper-grey, An ever-changing melding of night and day. I seek to shake off this edifice of days, Time falls away as the wise woman prays, She dreams to take her waking slow... Mingles prayers, with softly falling snow. John E Marks Next are two of my favourite modern(ish) poems. EDEN ROCK They are waiting for me somewhere beyond Eden Rock: My father, twenty-five, in the same suit Of Genuine Irish Tweed, his terrier Jack Still two years old and trembling at his feet. My mother, twenty-three, in a sprigged dress Drawn at the waist, ribbon in her straw hat, Has spread the stiff white cloth over the grass. Her hair, the colour of wheat, takes on the light. She pours tea from a Thermos, the milk straight From an old H.P. sauce-bottle, a screw Of paper for a cork; slowly sets out The same three plates, the tin cups painted blue. The sky whitens as if lit by three suns. My mother shades her eyes and looks my way Over the drifted stream. My father spins A stone along the water. Leisurely, They beckon to me from the other bank. I hear them call, ‘See where the stream-path is! Crossing is not as hard as you might think.’ I had not thought that it would be like this. Charles Causley Adlestrop Yes. I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was Adlestrop—only the name And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky. And for that minute a blackbird sang Close by, and round him, mistier, Farther and farther, all the birds Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire. Edward Thomas
My poems are published on Medium and Wordpress (Inneruban) websites as well as on Write Out Loud. I have had four poetry books published over the period 1992 - 2021. They are: SOUND BITES pub by ENVOI 1992 LIFTING THE VEIL pub by New Hope International, 1997 A WASTE OF TIME, pub by Amazon, 2017 SHADOWS AND DUST, pub by Amazon, 2017 The locations of where to read about and/or buy my books are set out below: SOUND BITES published by ENVOI POETS (!992) https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sound-Bites-John-Marks/dp/B00MGKPQCO#detailBullets_feature_div LIFTING THE VEIL published by New Hope International (1997) - http://www.geraldengland.co.uk/nhi/marks.htm - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lifting-Veil-John-Marks/dp/0903610205 A WASTE of TIME published by CtreateSpace (2017) https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-waste-of-time-john-e-marks/1127059745 https://www.amazon.co.uk/waste-time-Poems-2010-2015/dp/1549671448 SHADOWS AND DUST published by Amazon (2017) https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52659345-shadows-and-dust https://www.amazon.co.uk/Shadows-dust-John-Marks-ebook/dp/B076NY5ZZ2 https://kdp.amazon.com/en_US/bookshelf?publishedId=6FZK7AJW7A4
. If we don't believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all. Noam Chomsky
Thomas Hardy - the Less Deceived Victorian
JOHN MARKS The Thomas Hardy JournalVol. 12, №2 (MAY 1996), pp. 45–47 (3 pages) Published By: Thomas Hardy Society https://www.jstor.org/stable/45274253
HEARTS ARE THROWN AT STRANGERS, AREN’T THEY?
Splattered on a canvas Or, scrawled on a wall Art Is just A husk of form Without the artless agony Of daily life: The strangled scream And the carving knife.
The poet and the quantum physicist both question the nature of reality and both advocate for the creative power of human consciousness. "In the beginning there were only probabilities. The universe could only come into existence if someone observed it. It does not matter that the observers turned up several billion years later. The universe exists because we are aware of it." Martin Rees “As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.” ― Albert Einstein
John Prine Summer's End
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Our kid (27/05/2022)
Translating the rain (27/05/2022)
Suicide of a friend (25/05/2022)
Catastrophe: the banality of evil (22/05/2022)
Hanging by a thread (21/05/2022)
Only connect (07/05/2022)
Poet Thunder (13/03/2022)
The necromancer's ball - revisited (04/07/2021)
Our endless, numbered days (03/07/2021)
Global swarming (30/06/2021)
Remembering Sylvia (19/06/2021)
BLOOMSDAY: 16 June 1904 (15/06/2021)
Two legs good? (06/06/2021)
Spring in the snow (06/06/2021)
SMOKE OVER MOSUL (04/06/2021)
- 2016 - 2021 (2)
Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.