The quiet coach,
The crunch of crisp packets,
The rustling of newspapers
And the murmur of conversations
Would almost drown out the noise of
Any mobile phone!
February 17, 2009
The quiet coach!
February 12, 2009
The crash of the glass!
The crash of the glass
Came as a sudden shock
Though looking back
I can see it in slow motion
As the coat swept across the table
And knocked it to the floor.
The connection with the hard tiles
Set off an explosion
Also available in slow mo replay
With shards scattering
In a wide arc around him
Under the other tables.
The immediate shattering silence
Turned into a pause of anticipation,
He deciding in his mind on an approach,
Every eye in the café upon him,
Including the staff behind the counter,
Themselves assessing the moment.
The decision arrived and apologies forthcame,
Answers calming the room,
Encouraging familiarity
And heartfelt sympathy
From the other diners,
Short-lived in their quiet discomfort.
The plateau reached, of mutual satisfaction,
He put on the coat,
Paid for his drink and left.
The girl swept up
Restoring harmonious order.
New diners arrived, oblivious.
February 10, 2009
The Pyrex Challenge
Revealed in a moment of passion,
The bowl of secrets, for her
A life-changing perfection,
In pyrex, the brightest reflection
Of a woman’s ambition,
Waterproof, a watershed in life’s expectation
‘though lacking in clear explanation
Of the reason for this deep devotion.
The gauntlet laid, in anticipation
Of a suitably poetic reaction.
February 9, 2009
A tale of two churches
The Sunday homage,
Split between God and mammon.
The body of Christ and
The bread counter at the supermarket
The bell calls the faithful to prayer
Whilst the tannoy announces reductions at the deli
Money changes hands as
The collection plate circulates
And the clubcard accrues points
St Peter in Eastgate Church and Tesco
They both want your soul.
The woman on the train
The woman on the train
Would have been quite attractive
But for the disturbance
That kept the smile from her lips.
Her phone call bore no fruit,
“It” hadn’t arrived yet and
She arranged to call back
On the way home from work.
She was in her mid-30s I supposed,
Sitting there in contemplative silence,
Her long dark hair contrasting
With the creamy wool of her coat.
On the table in front was
A pair of red leather gloves
With a velvet scarf that
Matched her crimson lipstick.
When we got to Peterborough
She pulled on the gloves
And, moving down the carriage,
Left the train.
I noticed she wore black boots
As I watched her walking
Off along the platform
The rain beating heavily against the window.
The train pulled away
And I sat there wondering
What her problem might be,
Then I moved on.
February 8, 2009
WIND
Howling, raging, battering,
The wind still blew on,
Fierce, gusty and strong,
The wind still blew on,
Calm, quiet and peaceful,
The wind had stopped blowing,
Raging and howling,
So all was quiet and sunny.
February 7, 2009
Paint
I’m just going home to do some painting so that I can watch the paint dry. It is more interesting than the England v Italy 6 Nations Rugby International I have been watching!
Thanks to Huw for this idea.
The Email
From: Mark Agius
Sent: 06 February 2009 10:37
To: Trefor Davies; ‘Huw Edwards’; ‘Crow, James’; ‘Jeremy Dawkins’; Philip Clarke; James Powell; Gary Stobie;’hux’; ‘Mick’; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
As you all know I am 50 in October and thinking of doing something!
Any suggestions?
Clive is off with Steve ‘Carpy’ Kilby to Turkey in Sept for a week’s golf bender!
Too much for me, thinking more along the lines of 2-3 nights August bank hols etc. Vets rugby tour with golf replacing the rugby!!
Even settle for watching a sporting event somewhere with a couple nights thrown in for local merriment!
Is Llanberis off? I know few other lads eg Dave C****r keen to do something (must keep him away from a stage and strippers)
Jez, as a pro any ideas!!
Ajax
From: Trefor Davies
Sent: 06 February 2009 10:38
To: Mark Agius; Huw Edwards; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; Philip Clarke;James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
We could just do you a cake with 50 candles on it. That would be cheaper. I can get anne to bake it if you like as long as everybody chipped in for the ingredients. That will be 3 pence each please.
From: Philip Clarke
Sent: 06 February 2009 10:43
To: ‘Trefor Davies’; ‘Mark Agius’; Huw Edwards; ‘Crow, James’; ‘Jeremy Dawkins’; James Powell; Gary Stobie; ‘hux’; ‘Mick’; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
It will cost at least a tenner for all the wax that’s a lot of candles
From: Huw Edwards
Sent: 06 February 2009 11:07
To: Philip Clarke; Trefor Davies; Mark Agius; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
Can’t we just have one symbolic candle….probably get away with a smaller cake then
Is Anne looking for a wage out of this….?
Jeremy, can we put the VAT thro’ your business..
I need to know the bottom line, if we are having a cake syndicate, otherwise I’m out.
From: Trefor Davies
Sent: 06 February 2009 11:45
To: Huw Edwards; Philip Clarke; Mark Agius; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
The best thing I can suggest is that we give her a budget and ask her what she can come up with.
I’m sure Mark wouldn’t want us to go over the top with this one.
Can I suggest 50 pence total.
I’m happy to find an underwriter for it. That’s 5 pence each for everyone on this cc list except of course for Mark. It is unreasonable to expect him to chip in for his own birthday cake, especially when you consider he is probably going to be buying the beer.
From: Huw Edwards
Sent: 06 February 2009 11:51
To: Trefor Davies; Philip Clarke; Mark Agius; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
Hang on, you said 3 pence per person earlier…I can’t do business like this
I’m angry and out.
From: Philip Clarke
Sent: 06 February 2009 11:56
To: Trefor Davies; ‘Huw Edwards’; ‘Mark Agius’; ‘Crow, James’; ‘Jeremy Dawkins’; James Powell; Gary Stobie; ‘hux’; ‘Mick’; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
4 pence we are in a recession no more no less
A cost cutting idea is instead of chocolate you can use cat food it’s the same colour but costs less from Poundstretcher also it could give a nice sardine or pilchard twist to the taste (Don’t knock it until you have tried it).
And instead of candles empty loo roll tubes with gold fish stapled to the top for the flame effect.
From: Trefor Davies
Sent: 06 February 2009 12:00
To: Philip Clarke; Huw Edwards; Mark Agius; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
Who said anything about chocolate?
Either we get 3 others in on the syndicate to lower it to 4 pence or we ask anne if she can get the kids at the nursery school she is teaching at to help out. They can do the loo roll bits
Either works for me.
From: Huw Edwards
Sent: 06 February 2009 12:11
To: Trefor Davies; Philip Clarke; Mark Agius; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
I don’t recall Clarkey being appointed chief negotiator but like his blue sky thinking
Is there a techie solution to this…what about a virtual cake
Saves messing about with cat food and contravening employment reg’s on the use of child labour
From: Trefor Davies
To: Huw Edwards ; Philip Clarke ; Mark Agius ; Crow, James ; Jeremy Dawkins ; James Powell ; Gary Stobie; hux ; Mick ; Steven Connolly
Sent: Fri Feb 06 12:23:16 2009
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
Ok ok
We will have to ditch the filling then. Mark can bring his own jam (though I prefer a creamy filling myself Mark if you can stretch to it)
Actually I think ajax should be paying for the cake as well as the beer
I never thought he would be this tight about it.
From: Steven Connolly
Sent: 06 February 2009 12:34
To: Trefor Davies; Huw; Philip Clarke, ‘Mark Agius’; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; Hux; Mick;
Subject: Re: FW: Are You Interested?
And I thought only women and bakers talked about cake making!!!!!
From: Trefor Davies
Sent: 06 February 2009 12:44
To: ‘Huw Edwards’; Philip Clarke; Mark Agius; Crow, James; Jeremy Dawkins; James Powell; Gary Stobie; hux; Mick; Steven Connolly
Subject: RE: FW: Are You Interested?
We could send him one on Facebook – though he would need to get himself a Facebook account
Trouble is we would need to say we were friends of his to do it!
February 5, 2009
It’s cold and bright in Albion tonight
It’s cold and bright in Albion tonight
Though the snow covered fields
Have little to reflect
From the greyness of the cloud laden sky.
Tonight the owl hunts in vain
As nothing else stirs,
The silence of its glide
Amplified by the hushed tones
Of the icy blanket beneath.
Trees, ghostly sentinels, patrol the hedgerows
That enclose the hunting grounds.
Smoke rises vertically,
Windless from the occasional chimney,
Whitewashed walls invisible
To all but the owl,
Which is itself seen only
By the trees and
Through the aperture of the imagination.
February 2, 2009
Jamjar of Apostrophes
jamjar of apostrophes
On the mantelpiece, gathering apostrophes, stands the jamjar
Never seeming to get full despite
A steady stream of infilling punctuations
That claim to be the real thing,
Though they may simply be
Misplaced commas.
Whence it came we know not
Nor the jam contained
Within its glass rotunda,
Spread out on bread
And washed, long since,
From the sweet of communal consciousness.
Unlikely as it is, in the jamjar
Gathers the dust of failed scribes
And victims of progress,
Sentenced to be read by others
In the twilight of expression,
The false dawn of a new age.
As it slowly fills, so dies the light…
February 1, 2009
Snowtime
This has been a wonderful winter. I can’t remember when we last had such a sustained period of cold weather. The snow is now falling and this time it looks as if we might get a reasonable dump of it rather than the light scattering that normally comes and goes within a few hours. Ironically the kids are off sledging at Xscape which is an indoor ski slope.
The sky feels as if it is closing in on us though it isn’t getting darker. Occasionally I see someone walking along the pavement the other side of the hedge in the front garden. Give it a couple more hours and there will be hardly anyone. Also cars are still going past.
Sat here in front of the fire I’m facing a near perfect Sunday afternoon. Anne is doing some baking in the kitchen and in a short while I’ll be cooking a Delia Smith’s recipe chille con carne. Pretty much the same as most other chilles I imagine.
This weather provides an absolutely perfect excuse to sit down and write. To some amongst us tapping away at the PC probably constitutes idleness but they have to believe this is not the case. In fact it is absolutely essential to have uninterrupted time at it.
This the weather you always deam about that gets you stranded in a pub or a country hotel. Unable to make it home for a whole week, running up a huge bar tab and dreading the moment that the snowplough makes it through to announce that the road is now clear!
The snow has stopped now but it will be back. It strikes me that my recent posts, be they prose or poetry, have very much had a wintery theme. If not winter certainly an element of bleakness. It will be interesting to see how this changes as the year progresses. I’m not naturally a person with a negative outlook.
January 30, 2009
A view from the stage
It’s always an interesting moment seeing the CPO programme list for the next year.There will always be some pieces I like balanced by some I’d rather not have to bother with.This year was no different, and scanning the e-mail I took an involuntarily sharp intake of breath when I saw ‘Tchaikovsky Symphony #5’. What a treat – fantastic.I won’t say which pieces prompted a groan!
Tchaikovsky symphonies are packed full of delights and challenges for your average first violinist (and I am a very average first violinist). Lovely tunes, fast passages, grunty bits for effect, subtleties that need a great deal of skill and refinement, and sections which, quite frankly, it doesn’t matter what you play because you’re being drowned out by the brass anyway. They like doing that.
Sitting waiting to start playing there won’t be much going through my mind, but the sense of anticipation will be powerful, boosted by doubts about all the personal little tricky corners which, in rehearsals, I haven’t quite managed to get to the bottom of. At least this time we don’t play at the start – I can sit and compose myself a bit more until we join in with the rest of the strings.
Once we get going the audience fades from my consciousness, and it’s just the music. It sounds clichéd but it’s true. There is so much to concentrate on that awareness of anything else would be wasteful. Am I playing exactly with everyone else ? Are the notes right ? Am I counting the rests properly? Will I get that high note right this time? Am I playing loudly enough – am I playing too loudly? Is my bow going in the right direction? And they’re just the basic technical details. Am I managing to deliver what passes for music, let alone Michael’s interpretation of it? That’s the key question, and the one that time after time, brings us all back for more.
We move through the music, pumping adrenalin just as much in the really quiet bits as in the loud fast sections. We get to relax and swing with the tunes. Some sections are more difficult than others and need more focus and wide-eyed, unblinking concentration. My favourite part ? The horn solo in the second movement. From my vantage point in a large section of violins I always think it must be a high-pressure moment for the horn player, and am silently urging him to relax, do his best, and enjoy it.
After all the false summits of the last movement, and past the bit where the brass drowns out the strings, we reach the end flourish. The baton stops. A short pause. Then, we hope, the applause. The audience’s appreciation is the icing on the cake. If you’ve enjoyed it half as much as me, you’ll have had a great evening.
January 29, 2009
Hole In The Wall
Personal yet impersonal,
Grubby and soulless,
Addictive, without joy
Source of money, sometimes –
Swallow hard.
Herald of bad news,
Card swallower.
Watch your bent back
In litter-strewn streets
Of cloned city centres
All in all it’s just
Another hole in the wall.
January 25, 2009
The Box
At arms length from other boxes
On the outskirts of town stands a box,
Poorly protected by a flimsy slat fence
A thin hedge takes the full blast of the wind
Across the bare fields and over the quarry below.
Paper walls make for little comfort
And no cats swing here though they
Lap at saucers at the exposed back door.
The cheap settee fills the room, with the TV
Which sits on its altar next to the gas fire.
The small garden patch is shaded by the shed that
Stands large on the patio next to the rusting barbecue.
The paint peeled garage door opens into clutter
Where the car seldom fits,
Idling instead on the tarmac on the front drive.
The local pub survives, just,
Its new brick blandness mixed with gassy beer
And a desperately bored clientele.
Frozen food, fried, microwaved, boiled.
Choiceless, characterless, tasteless.
The box, uninspiring, the bulldozed architecture
Of (optimistically) a 100 years hence,
Thrown together, built with hopes and dreams,
Stands on the outskirts of town
An arms length from other boxes.
Telephone Conversation Overheard In The Pub
“I’m sat here pining for you.
I wish you’d answer my texts.
I aint giving up on you that easily sweetheart.
I’m sat in the Morning Star with my wolfie (his dog).
I wish I could see more of you, it’s doing my head in girl.
Is your son alright?
Where’s his next tour to?
If you want to get a taxi up to the pub I’ll pay for it and buy you a couple of drinks. I’ve got the cash.
Alright then my darling. Next time get yer fingers working and text me back to let me know you’re alright.”
Finishes conversation and talks to his dog.
“She’s poorly big guy. Any excuse not to come down to the pub. Mardy arsed bitch.”
It didn’t sound as if she was all too keen. Tref, Morning Star, 24th January 17.15pm