Archive for May, 2010

1984 – 1986

Friday, May 28th, 2010

The 1984 – 1986 series of poems are ones written in those years. They have been in a book in one of my drawers since then and never looked at. I hadn’t actually realised that there were more than one or two but there are 23 in total and I will be posting them all in the 1984 – 1986 category of poetry.

Having forgotten all about them there is a little overlap in words and ideas with what I am writing today but I thought they were worth showing anyway. I was in my early twenties when they were being written and only a year or so out of college.

The Demise of a Co-Human

Thursday, May 27th, 2010

In scarcely a shelter of frost-bitten briar
A tramp slept soundly his last night of sleep
A bottle of whisky, last drunk of at midnight
Lay empty beside him poor company to keep.

Oaken boughs cracked and small ponies shivered
As the teeth of the wind and the ice made their mark
But this wretch was no wiser to wintery weather
And died in the gutter, alone in the dark.

No searchers came searching, no body was missing
In this soulless black of a January night
And the snow drifted deeper, a ghostly white cover
For the corpse of a brother who lost his last fight.


Thursday, May 27th, 2010

Middle class suburban Sunday
Boredom, traditional and tedious
Black and white film on television
Followed by Dickens and religion.

Outside the rain falls steadily
Clouds closing sooner, a soon
Forgotten afternoon of Monopoly,
Tea and quarrelling with sisters.

I’m a Yorkshireman so There

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

Born in God’s own county, I first breathed Yorkshire air,
was bathed in Yorkshire water, was fed on Yorkshire fare,
but now I live in Lincolnshire, where men are coarse and loud,
not like we shy, retiring Tykes, taciturn but proud.


the birds are happy

Thursday, May 20th, 2010

the birds are happy
remember it’s a sin to kill a mocking bird
joe’s done a good job on the lawn
now he’s watering the autumn fruiting raspberries
they are about 18 inches high
it’s a lovely evening
23 degrees whilst I was on my way home
see that barrow in front of you?
I think we should redo it
the spray is so refreshing,
it’s on the really light mode
out comes a cup of green tea

Letter from Tref 26/01/86: Excerpt

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

Once upon a time there was a friendly gargoyle who never had a cross word for anyone and always had a wide smile. His one failing was a habit of spitting, and, because of this, Gordon the gargoyle was never spoken to by anyone except the very youngest of children who didn’t realise that spitting was a nasty, unsociable habit. Then one day a grown up who, up until then, everyone had thought was a responsible person decided to switch off the water supply to save money for the city council and so that he could go on a courtesy visit to their twin city which was in a foreign country many miles away over the sea. All at once many more grown ups decided that they hadn’t minded Gordon’s spitting and if anything they actually liked him doing it (although just because they wanted Gordon to do it didn’t mean that they thought it was OK for all the boys and girls to do it). They kicked up an enormous fuss and paraded in front of the city hall until the grown up responsible for turning off the water relented (he was the mayor by the way) and to everyone’s joy turned it back on.

For a short while people made a special effort to go go and see Gordon gargoyling, but very soon all the hoo hah was forgotten and everything went back to normal. The only people who would talk to him were the children, but Gordon didn’t really mind this, after all he quite liked the boys and girls.

The end.


Saturday, May 15th, 2010

              We were twins.

              Dandelion-and-burdock, lemonade, even medicines

              would be measured glass against glass.

              To each his equal share.

              Anything else would have been ‘not fair’.



Saturday, May 15th, 2010

click for part 3

I was out kayaking this morning and drifting around in the breeze on the lake my mind drifted up to see lots of fluffy white clouds drifting by. I thought to myself, how wonderful. I thought how can I write something artistic about those fluffy white clouds? But then it occurred to me that it must be practically impossible to write anything about fluffy white clouds that hasn’t already been written. They are such an obvious thing for people to get all wistful and romantic about.

The old lateral thinking machine did kick in and I then had one of those eureka moments. Clouds = internet. Hmm. A bit tenuous really. How do you go from kayaking and then watching clouds to talking about tinternet? Who cares.


Dave Cameron’s familiar cabinet

Friday, May 14th, 2010

David (Dave) Cameron
Nick Clegg
William (Bill) Hague
George (George) Osborne
Vince (Vinny) Cable
Liam (Foxy) Fox
Andrew (Andy) Lansley
Chris Huhne
Ken (Kenny) Clarke
Theresa (Tree) May
Michael (Mike) Gove
David (Dave) Laws
Danny (Boy) Alexander
Eric (Ricky) Pickles
Jeremy (Jezzer) Hunt
Iain (Ee) Duncan Smith
Baroness (Baz) Warsi

The birds were in full voice that night

Friday, May 14th, 2010

The birds were in full voice that night, as if it was the first spring.

I drove back through the greenery of the Lincolnshire countryside with the windows of the Jeep wide open.

Coming up to 9pm it was still daylight and the hedgerows were alive with noise.

Breathing in deeply I could smell new growth and it made me glad to be alive.

The reddening sky to the West bode well for the next day and there was hardly any traffic on the road which made for comfortable driving.

As I approached the outskirts of Lincoln a gentle dusk fell over the city and the lights added a pleasant warmth to the scene.

I turned in to the drive and went in to a bottle of Pauillac that I had opened to breathe before setting off on my journey.

innocent leaves

Friday, May 14th, 2010

innocent leaves vulnerable
delicate unaware delicacy
plucked before prime


left to harden
grow old venous
ugly shrivelled dry

goddam seagull shit

Friday, May 14th, 2010

goddam seagull shit, gets everywhere.
don’t they teach those birds manners?

kissin’ the red

Friday, May 14th, 2010

kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
kissin’ the red

kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
kissin’ the red

kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
kissin’ the red

kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow

bad dad jack the lad

Friday, May 14th, 2010

bad dad jack the lad
shut the fridge door!
shut the fridge door!

bad dad jack the lad
shut the fridge door!

Scouts trample old dears to death in St Georges Day parade

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

Dramatic headlines I’m sure you will agree and not one you would expect to see in the peaceful environs of the City of Lincoln’s uphill area. This shocking event did indeed take place one Sunday as the massed bands of the District Scout Groups led a column of well drilled St Georges Day marchers around the Cathedral, across the square and into the castle.

One might associate a Boy Scout, and perhaps the occasional Girl Guide or Brownie with someone who runs amok in the woods, lighting campfires and generally getting dirty in the most ill disciplined of fashions. The modern movement however is one that has benefited from decades of progress in training on “how to handle the yoof”.