I'm just putting some poems together for my trip to the Beehive tonight....
....
the republican mantra
from meduaern come bees
fresh as yon hard-back beck :
lufteme pulled
by the petrichor of spring :
drenc on thunder : drenc on cloud :
aelmesgeorn in verge well give :
them stamp the snaeb
and drink the tear :
full fat their collared necks :
aswellan as swine in gor
...
oubliette
the fond view now remains
not the keep of then
not the face by numbers forged
each a windowed glance
just the flare of struck matches
...
pendle
for years she called them parkies
- darkies - and mister to their face
and grew a wart upon her chin
don't come that - she stuck the door
made pot-noodles out of straw
and sold hot dogs out of date
don't bother your head with that
it's a bit of tat from butlins
I picked it up on the fair
she keeps it for a keepsake
forgot it was even there
a memento of the jubilee
her kid was the one - with his bulldog -
and his laced up boots
and short cropped jeans
it was lice that made him cut his hair
don't you drag him in
and put that down - you witch
....
friend's friend
whenever we met
she told me how I disliked her
and in what measure
and the reasons
and I laughed
her room was draped with peacock scarves
of purple print and pink bohemian hue
burnt candle and saffron and wine
even in the stink of summer
when children in buggies were gassed by buses
the air striking in the surrey hills
her room had coolness
our disagreement lay
- or so I am told -
in an off-hand remark while drunk
for which no apology was asked
and full insult taken
she never drank tea - only earl grey or lapsang -
but I drank it with milk and no lemon
during one lecture about the perils of meat
I pointed out I was a vegetarian
she knew me better than myself
told me my opinions
defined my tastes and whims
laughed at my clothes
and my carefree contempt
and then one day we air-kissed
without goodbye
...
peace:)
the beehive poets meet at the beehive pub on westgate bradford - be there at 8pm for an 7.30 start
all welcome
The Blue Book
