on the quayside
in a winter morning’s iced air
Poetry - All Roads Lead to Bishop Lane by Laura Fry
There’s a street in my dear town I can’t forget
Its name invokes in me
Feelings of pleasure and regret
The pleasure of the happiest of times
Regret at leaving for continental climes
My first sight of it was in 1998 Read more...
Poetry - Derby Day by Andy H Hems
These unrefined Northerners
Outside their watering holes,
(Silver Cod, Malt Shovel,
Parkers et al) half working-class,
Half dole but altogether in
Skewed cohesion and clashing Read more...
Poetry - The bicycle-bell Bird By John Cuthbert Hayton
In natural history books
You’ll find a lot of information
To keep the human race in mind
Of the animal creation
Now there’s a bird which I have heard Read more...
Poetry - The Ballads of Pete Seeger (1919-2014) By Patrick Henry
A house stayed at in far, dry hills of Spain;
Owned just one disc: America’s Favourite Ballads.
Seeger sang The Old Grey Goose. A strange sad song.
And Little Boxes: sniping at those caught tight in narrow ways.
Not open, the ways he lived; and brought wide horizons, Read more...
Poetry - Lunch at The Sailmakers Arms By Terry Ireland
Sitting in the warmth looking over the river
Where my darts partner, Bernard used to work
When they did once make sails and tarpaulins
Before it became a pub where we could lurk
After our short walk along the waterfront:
Desolation and dereliction have moved on.
Many of the old chandlers and merchants Read more...
Poetry - Downturn Abyss By Patrick Henry
TV series viewing moves upmarket to High-Class drama;
From East End-Coronation-type, dodgy, lowlife sorts.
Proof how the ruling class needs keep down that rabble.
Now screened in glory: square-eyed addicts goggle at;
Pining for days when strikers and Jack-the-Lads got the elbow. Read more...
Poetry - Come in Number Three, Your Time is Up By Maurice Fairfield
Somebody sentenced me to life some time ago.
For something I can’t remember doing.
Now as my sentence dwindles to its close,
Freedom no longer pulls me as it did.
My cell though cramped, is cosy,
And the meals arrive on time. Read more...
Poetry - Precious Things By Ian Winter
You are a diamond on a troubled shore
I am a stone in a broken shoe
We walk together in a sunless sky
Yet Still my shadow
Still, clings to you.
We roll and fall up hill
Against a thickening breeze Read more...
Poetry - Christmas Cheer By Mark Hillary
As remorselessly as winter itself
It always appears on the Christmas mantelshelf
Always the same cheery greeting 'from Julie and Pete'
Were they that ghastly couple we met that time in Crete?
Their address went straight in the bin
Once the duty free bags had released their gin
Why do they send without reciprocation
Poetry - The Solid Gold Mandela By Patrick Henry
An image shrouds around the last sight of Mandela:
The world crowds to hail, not mourn, the finish of his life.
Common sorts, stunned, losing their saviour figure.
Leaders act tributes: some seen sly and two-faced.
Dark ones, who run his land now: stand mistrusted, self-serving. Read more...
Poetry Alcoholism By Nicky Kelly
Woke up and said to myself never again
Fully clothed curled in bed
I lost count after a drink or ten
With shaky hands and a pounding head
Finally got myself up and about
Then it hit me that urge I needed a drink Read more...