A Fine City

1FE9B905-EC7B-406A-8E1F-65928C4ECBC9.jpegNorwich thickened

through history,

enriched by wool traded with Holland,

masonry and church building,

glass angels stained into windows

watched over its

guilds of wealth and power.

 

Still populated today by towers,

shells of flint and stone, but

Medieval street structures struggle

to accommodate larger people

crowding into larger shops

whose plastic fronts do not mean elastic

just fake, false, shiny show.

 

CLP  06/05/2018

Season’s End

AC4C3DFC-BEF6-4504-9052-62AEFD0E0B26

At last wind from the sea is welcome.

Dust not leaf litter blows along gutters

Pollarded beech trees add leafy tints

to Frensham Road.

 

The movement of people is looser

in summer shorts, blue shirt tops,

although blue and white of Pompey scarves

is still worn despite cricket weather heat.

 

Excitable sons gambol alongside

long-striding men looking ahead

to August,

ignoring twelve mid-year weeks,

while grandads show gentle interest,

kindly coaxing little lads back

onto root-lifted pavements,

answering high-pitched questions about who might play

and why another favourite won’t

and this and that and, and, and…Grandpa?

 

A block-shaped car

is parked particularly precisely,

a wheeled chair is removed,

unfolded, locked into shape

and careful, strong-gripped manoevres

position a determined animated,

colourfully dressed fan,

safe into place, ready to roll

to sit in concreted shade,

where eyes sharpened,

alight to athletic movement

on mown patterns, across white lines

pitched between flag-marked corners,

watch keenly every detail of pre-match

preparation and ritual.

 

Contrast from the shadowing South Stand,

marks near black on brilliant green,

cuts so sharp that momentary

sight loss flickers in eyes squinting

to adjust as they chase

colours, given stronger tone

by Sun set high with a perfect seat,

but who has to drag herself reluctantly away out west

before the final whistle,

but only after pouring one last gulped pint

of welcome warmth

into sun-glassed faces.

 

Impenetrable bright sky, sets off the scene in blue hue not seen inland,

so blue that stars behind become anxious

they will not get on to play tonight.

 

Wide-winged gulls’ cries of the sea are drowned at birth,

over-whelmed, engulfed in waves of voices,

by microphoned, amplified announcements,

strong rhythms, clapping, chants and songs.

 

For some this is the last match.

No substitute will step in when they get pulled from the pitch.

Some will know their part near played up,

others will depart the game in shock,

their removal a surprise to all.

Unfair, unwarned and fiercely questioned,

why did they get The Manager’s call?

Yet another sign of unfathomable tactics.

Next season, last game in fresh May

their names will be on the lips

of the man who reads The List

of those who once so happily

trooped along to Fratton Park.

3B9615C9-A5FC-4134-BF5D-C6E2C81F03AC.jpeg

 

CLP  05/05/2018

Dedicated to Albert Perry “Grampy”

 

 

Bus

7F274501-EB94-41A0-B95D-4DADD3E7AFAC.jpegThe school day beckons

Trails of teenage chat

tv, teachers, trials of

the timetable in breaking tones

and husky bed-weakened chords

”Everyone in Year 9 is going to have a go at

Her

until basically she explodes.”

and, oh yes,

about friends too.

 

CLP  04/05/2018

 

Pling!

Attention!

Puny red icon with numeral

here to make, break or shake

you up, drag you down

make you smile.

Good or bad you.

Not alone.

 

CLP  04/05/2018

May Day, Bognor Regis

Pink

petals wild blown

accumulate in drifts

fill gutters,

kerbs billow into puffed up pillows.

 

Bared bottom leaves tilt up

and wiggle, pale undersides

frolic nude.

 

Baited by sunlight,

naked limbs are dared

to risk exposure

so piercing beams,

when whisked up

with sea-cooled gusts,

buff white skin

pink.

 

CLP  01/05/2018

 

Blossom

0AB25E0D-627A-4A1C-A711-6DF0A557B386.jpegPink and pale pink, white

Vibrant in the city’s heart

Nature subdues man

 

CLP  17/04/2018

International Haiku Day

(Who decides?)

Woodpecker

Can you hear the knocking?

Reverberating,

Fading thocking?

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Nature’s glockenspiel.

 

CLP 04/03/2018

Seagull?

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You say you saw a seagull skimming through your dream?

I fear this is not possible, things are not quite as they seem.

There is not a thing as seagull, whatever others say

Seagulls are not the birds you see flying sweetly ‘cross the bay.

Take another look my friend and open up your mind

These birds are beautiful and varied, just like humankind.

Colours, size and patterns diverge to vast degree

They are more than simply seagulls, get closer and you’ll see

Wing markings, legs and beaks are all truely quite distinct

All individual characters, who stop to watch and think

Bonaparte, Black-headed, Herring, Yellow-legged and Common too

Glaucous, Iceland, even Laughing Gulls make fools of me and you

They, with many cousins, are not alike at all

Please do not just name them seagulls,  but listen to each call.

So next time you see seabirds whilst deep amidst your slumbers

Remember gulls,  like humans, are so much more than simply numbers.

In dreams they may be viscious, pecking out your eyes

In truth they are more complex, carrying lost sailors’ souls within their cries.

 

 

CLP 14/04/18

 

http://www.napowrimo.net prompt for Day 14, dream interpretation…”seagull.”

Giardino Maria Luisa Fagnocchi Rava

1F8F8561-C186-4124-B9D5-5D910F231118

A fatica

Mi distacco da te

e nel pensiero

dell’ultima ora

ti porteró nel cuore

(M L Fagnocchi, Ravenna, fulgida d’oro)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

And finally

Amidst accumulated

Alpine snows

At the last hour

You open your heart to Love.

CLP 05/04/2018

 

In response to a rather challenging http://www.napowrymo.net challenge, i.e. photo, poem in a tongue foreign to the writer, interpreted in native tongue to the rhythm of the original.

Tonight Live at Institut de Beauté…

21D936F5-0288-46A1-9E08-9D145B7CC087the IMMUTABLE FAMILY

Supported by

OBLIVIOUS DAD

CAREER-BREAK MUM

Introducing by special invitation for one night only

The Other Men

Also featuring

THE SULLEN KIDS

CouldaWouldaShoulda

The Lame Excuses

MOTEL MATCHES

PUBLIC INTIMACY

ERRORS OF JUDGEMENT

The Sympathetic Neighbours

FUCK THE MORTGAGE!!

Opiate Overdose

and

Strangely Peaceful…

CLP 03/04/2018

N.B. The prompt today from http://www.napowrymo.net being a list poem using made up (punk) rock band names. If any of these are names of real bands good luck to you. If you want to name your band after any of these fictional names, be my guest.

n.b. Motel Matches would be a great band name, but it is the title of a cracking song by Elvis Costello. You can find it on his album Get Happy! 

1-2-3-4!!!