Text Box: Newsletter Poems

 

 

 

 

Bitterness, spite and maliciousness: these derisive trysts will twist within the petty blighted participants as any actual passing, acted fast, intent on icing out a battered victim is instantly rebounded back to freeze the blaster’s beating heart right in its tracks.

 

List [I need you help with this one. What with me having Nounophasia and all; or whatever it is called!] [Please email your suggestions for names to fill the gaps]

 

(List of names here of those involved in the setting up of the new law):

This is my list those who are believed to be enemies of the people of Britain.

 

(List of names of other prominent MPs):

This is my list of those who are suspected of stirring up racial hatred.

 

(List of names of ordinary people):

This is a list of those who will be investigated as to their racial origins and nationality.

 

Adrian Spendlow:

This is a list of those suspected of anti-government poetry

[If you want me to add your name as a footnote let me know when you offer your help.]

 

 

 

More thoughts on terrorism I suppose:-

 

Hook line X3:

If you have a belief

Then in there is love

And that is something

We all need to have

 

A verse!

Love is unity

Unity is victory

Victory is beauty

 Beauty

    is a place

Where we all need to be

 

Voxpop:-

Do you have a belief? -

Is there love in there?

And what does that love tell you?

 

Once we are rolling:-

We don’t ask anything complicated of you. Love is only being friendly, but it is our strongest weapon in this war. Love is what this war is for and here are your weapons; A smile: at someone different to you, A helping hand that might lead to friendship, A nod of understanding showing you have a connected whenever you get the chance, A wave at those that might stand apart, and - When things get terribly bad: Go and stand by the person who is being shown hurt and take that smile with you. Love and Unity are the way to win.

 

Looking at the poems in last issue I don’t recall writing any of them, similar with this one:-

 

I hate this jumper     it itches like mad     and my mum makes me wear     these girlie vests    

I kick up a right fuss     and run around     rubbing my arms     against my sides     (This upsets her     because of previous trauma     that I only dimly recall)     There are holes in the wool too,     of the woolie that is,     she says it doesn't matter      (I just have to leave it alone)     You can see the Airtex through it though             so everyone will know          about the girlie undies             yet still I pull at the woollen thread                  enlarging the portal          

to my dark silken secret

 

Here’s one from way back (I have added it to the Persula tour sets):

Maisy tells a tale

 

Of course she’d dreamt of being a somebody

Sometimes even of standing for parliament

If she’d been lady, she would have joined in with the suffragettes

But mostly she dreamed of a handsome young gentleman

Or perhaps a crotchety old rich one

As long as they took her away from this place

Oh a handsome young gentleman who would whisk her away

Treat her so kindly forever his fair lady

Anything would improve on the lot of a scullery maid

Black-leading the Yorkist and scrubbing the grate

Briskly boiling the carrots and brassing the fender

Sometime she would dream of a brave gallant hero

Perhaps riding upon a carpet with a cutlass and tassles

But just as he stooped to raise her from fireside

For to fly her away to his grand golden halls

Mrs Cartwright would shake her

            rough and sudden by the shoulder

And bring her back scathingly to the land of the living

Odd time when she was asked

                      what it was made her wander

She would stand and regale her

                and the whole blooming kitchen

Tell them tales she had dreamed up

            while awork at the root crop

Fill their hearts with a longing that she always felt

Till they all dropped their duties as their hearts set to soar

Forget their set stations in life as Maisy told stories

But the spell broke too quickly

Mrs Cartwright would pucker

Fine words perhaps Maisy

                  But that’s all that yer tale is

Fine words let me tell yer

                  Will butter no parsnps

 

Anoraks……

 

Keep off inclementness

So it’s best to wear one

Whatever weather

No matter the temperature

I have quite a selection

Enough to suit, any occasion

Anoraks I’ve got.

Almost

Have, what you’d call

A collection

Want to see them?

 

Would it be weird at all,

Or witty, to say

Come up and see them?

 

Sometime – then – maybe – eh?

 

 

From Poemspotters:-  Listening

 

 To think you have to learn and to learn you have to listen and to listen you have to share and to share you have to talk and to talk you have to think and to think you have to learn and to learn you have to listen and to listen you have to share and to share you have to talk and to talk you have to think….

 

 

Not sure if this is a love poem or a stalker poem - It is chilling in performance with the band:-

 

Delayed shock      Pulsing on empty     Two glasses and glowing     It is love     Unrequited     And even not happening     She’s young     nd she’s gone     And her eyes     And my god!     Ambery golden     Deep and clear     If there is any justice     She’ll walk in here now     It is meant     Or why feel like this     Just cos it’s impossible     Doesn’t mean it’s not fate     We were destined     She meant it     She said that     She looked in my eyes     Was so glad for     One last meet     So wanted to hold me     And I wish it     I wish it right now     If true love is internal     She will walk in here now     Bodies not important     I fancied but lose detail     It was eyes and person     It is the feeling;     The knowing     We know     From the moment     What moment, you ask me     The one that is crystal;     When I  wake in the night     I wake in the night     And I see her looking at me     And no matter how I doubt     It comes out that it was then     If there is,     Any chance for me     She will walk in at this moment.        She is here     I haven’t noticed     There she is     Breezing in now     Knowing that the moment     Was forever and for us     Even if forever isn’t credence     Or believed in.     Bitter from break up       I disbelieve in forever     In exclusive     In the true love     There she is    In she comes now     Close to my eye     Like the dream that keeps happening     There she is     I will wait here     No I’ll walk now     It is kismet     Fate says,    We will meet up     Fate     Fate     Fate     Fate

 

 

Written for Read Write York:

Being A Poet In York        It’s a great place to be           and to become part of things.           Beautifully inspiring.       

Big enough for a wide rage of opportunity.            Small enough to know.              Straight on a train will get you away.       

Full of a sense of community.           Most importantly perhaps,          poetry here is integrated –           Accepted by venues and bookshops,             happy alongside other art forms.          Great place to be based.

 

I scribbled this out after hearing hunt supporters talk:-

Keep the hunting

Keep the hunting

Ferlock - Ferlock

Keep the work

I need it don’t you see

Grand it is - Grand it is

So grand it is you see

All the grand chaps

From their mansions

And the toffs on holiday

Landlord lets us have our beer cheap

If we welcome toffs for stirrup cup

Keep the hunting

Keep the hunting

Ferlock - Ferlock

Keep the work

This is what the country

This is what the country

This is what the country needs

 

And:-

One sip of tea

Brings us from a

Hypnogogic state

To the semi-wakeful

Transient anxiety of

Two months without

A cigarette.

 

(See also the Text Poems)

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