The Poets Thread...
CLAIR de LUNE
There she goes,
following me again...
Across the cropped corn
and over the high trees.
My harvest queen,
her footsteps make no din.
At the turn of the year
with the sheaves gathered in...
- - - - - - -
THE DAWN CHORUS
Such a fuss,
coming home from the cotton town,
and the birds singing a hymn
as ancient as
Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
As I listen,
I can just make out
the words of Jerusalem.
how alcohol can play tricks
on this solstice night;
as the birds bring in the dawn,
- - - - - - -
THE BRIDGE OVER THE RIVER ASH
We'll go by the Circle line
Incognito at the afternoon's close.
I'll take with me the Evening Standard
And buy you a pink rose.
It'll be fun again
Me and you out on the lash.
And we'll sing again our drinking songs
On the bridge over the river Ash.
- - - - - - -
TO THE LEFT OF THE MOON
to the left,
but be there on the stroke of
And so we met,
for the first time,
on the east side of the silvery
I'd read about you,
the frozen queen dressed in
there you were,
making no fuss...
from the icy hinterlands,
the mysterious and beautiful,
(Visible tonight and all next week, to the left of the moon.)
Started: 27th Oct 2018 at 07:52
I meant to look for uranus. I will tonight if it's clear!
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 08:58
Another smasher, jarvo 👍
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 09:51
What an outstanding piece of prose.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 10:45
Now Bill, play nice.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 11:06
I was just about to say, let's hope nobody spoils it and up pops boredy, just give it a rest and stop spoiling threads.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 11:30
What have I said wrong? Are you saying it isn’t outstanding?
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 11:45
I'm saying it's more needless baiting.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 13:30
I, for one can see nothing wrong with Bills post.
There's no accounting for taste is there?
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 13:44
Totally agree kath 👍
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 14:11
Kath, if you want to look at baiting check out Walshy’s replies to your posts on another thread. He won’t have read it but says “ completely agree Kath” This is borne out by the fact that a day later he made exactly the same comment on the same post. In his haste to bait he had obviously forgotten he had glanced and commented. His answers are almost always baiting. He has been thrown off here at least four times previously for poor behaviour. Now I have tried to answer you courteously but will not enter into discussions again unless of course you single someone else out for the same comments. Enjoy the game.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 14:44
Last edited by broady: 27th Oct 2018 at 14:46:28
Totally agree, Broady.
Nobody baits as much as Walshy, in fact he's a master at it.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 15:32
Funny thing about all this is that it's always the same people who bite, time and time again.
You would think they would learn something and ignore him
Seems they can't
Oh what larks, (as someone once said)
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 15:52
I went to a funeral 18 months ago & Broady came all the way from Canada to attend.Some men from Abram we got chatting to who used to post & now don't,commented that the reason they don't is the main one who spoils threads is Walshy & his sidekick Stardelta,I've not mentioned this until now.Do you remember this Bill? His brother was Caltermark who died !Now you may understand how bad he gets.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 15:56
I hate to admit it but the “ redundant pot hole filler” has a valid point. I shall put him on ignore. Thank you Sledge. In two hours I will put you there also but in fairness will give you time to respond. Merry Christmas.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 16:05
I think there are many people in this forum who spoil threads and seek to be aggressive and offensive and it doesn't take much to spot them. I don't let them bother me. Some I choose to ignore and some I choose to play at their own game.
In truth I think a lot of people share my approach
C'est le vie
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 16:07
You know it makes sense Boardy.
And put Walshy and Jarvo on too
Should improve your quality of life no end old son
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 16:13
A useless piece of information for Jarvo
Uranus gets it't blue colour from Methane FACT
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 16:15
Redundant lot hole filler?
What was I just saying about people wanting to be aggressive and offensive?
You won't put me or Baz or Jarvo on ignore, and we both know it
The moral highground is over there Boardy, it seems you need some help in finding it
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 16:19
Look at the state of Jarvos smashing thread.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 16:44
Yes. Gone down faster than his football team.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 17:28
Totally agree sd👍
Same folk ruining threads and attacking posters
It's cheesing me off.
Replied: 27th Oct 2018 at 18:55
Replied: 28th Oct 2018 at 08:54
Replied: 28th Oct 2018 at 08:54
Has anyone else noticed that from 29th September until Walshy announced he was back & not to panic (not much response to that)that not one thread was ruined,think about it,it's not rocket science!
Replied: 28th Oct 2018 at 09:32
Has anyone else noticed that the same people always start complaining when Baz shows his face?
This isn’t rocket science either
Replied: 28th Oct 2018 at 09:57
Has anyone else noticed that when certain people are not posting the "nasty uns" hardly post, they've not been on so much lately, then, all of a sudden they appear, following each other, around like sheep, attacking people and ruining threads
Replied: 28th Oct 2018 at 10:42
More, jarvo, don't let the "nasty uns" stop you from posting.
Replied: 29th Oct 2018 at 08:37
THE NIGHT THEY INVADED CZECHOSLOVAKIA
as the tanks rolled in.
A black and white TV set
in the surroundings
It was the day after I saw you
at the Ambulance station.
And as the Reds moved in,
you stood under our lamp post
on that hot August night.
I remember these things:
dates, and summers that lasted
till the leaves were falling.
But that was the last night we spoke
as teenagers in the street;
I never did meet anyone as good as you.
It was as if something had invaded our lives:
the rites of passage
to another world-
that was never to our liking...
Replied: 8th Nov 2018 at 21:19
Last edited by jarvo: 9th Nov 2018 at 05:33:26
THE LIGHT AT THE TOP OF THE STAIR
The light at the top of the stair
shone dim the night the world stood there,
to see the blood flow down his face
in such a way to scar or scare,
a cause so great to die and waste
our dream our hopes in such cruel haste.
And let us learn as time may tell
a card as high as any sole ace,
may draw the game to close or dwell
and leave the devil to wait in hell,
for those that lose the will to fight,
to die or stand or shout 'Oh well...'
Let them shout then and touch the light,
and drive the evil to flee in flight;
and end the dark and face the night
with faith to change the wrong to right.
Written in Iambic tetrameter.
Replied: 22nd Nov 2018 at 19:18
Nice to see the gang as not put you off posting your poems, jarvo
Replied: 23rd Nov 2018 at 08:40
A little poem by me.
You could, and you should,
If you did, did you 'dould '
Is this sentence confusing your brain ?
If it's not then it's clear
That you're like Edward Lear,
Either that or you're going insane.
Replied: 25th Nov 2018 at 14:11
and you are leaving
on the midday flight.
I am walking on autumn leaves,
and going by
the babbling brook.
I look up at the December blue sky,
and wonder why
you must be going.
A pheasant cackles in the bush...
there are other birds singing
their morning songs;
other lovers saying
their last goodbyes;
and other journeys
to be made.
the sound that the birds make,
but to heaven I am no nearer.
I am deaf
on a carpet of leaves,
watching you go
southwards, over the sea
- - - - -
Just behind the Cathedral,
there is a place where we used to meet:
it is the hinterland,
where the sea ends
and the land
stretches to the hills.
If I climb to the top,
I may catch a last look,
as the sun dips
and it reflects your face at the window.
let it rain...
let the wind blow hard,
as the night takes you safely home...
Replied: 8th Dec 2018 at 13:24
Whatever I won
is now lost.
And if she appeared,
one cold December night,
I would be struck dumb.
It will not happen-
and so my words will be heard.
I will talk about her
until the young trees
reach the window where the sun came in.
And what then?
I see only shadows
filling this familiar room.
I will lock the old door
for the last time-
it will be the end of the beginning:
the sun will be filtered
by memory and loss.
And only then,
will I say she has
Replied: 19th Dec 2018 at 22:39
24th DECEMBER 1968
Sleep not tonight as the cold moon appears,
bright, high above the star of Bethlehem.
We dream of peace on Earth as the night nears
the midnight hour. Further than ever and then
into the dark side they go, through space and
time. We pray, as they pray, an old message
spoken in hope of a better world; to land
soon on lunar sand by safer passage.
But first, the art of flight through space at speed,
and to map the mountains below the void.
This greater goal above all want and need,
for the hope of mankind whose hate destroyed;
the green lands of this blue planet that turns
between moon and sun and the deeper black.
Our greater will to spread His book and learn,
mankind's precious gift landing safely back...
Commemorating the Apollo 8 Moon Mission, December, 1968.
Thank you for reading and best wishes for the season.
Replied: 26th Dec 2018 at 06:51
Last edited by jarvo: 26th Dec 2018 at 20:37:44
Nice one Jarvo
Replied: 26th Dec 2018 at 08:29
Lifeless, this winter comes on now, hard and
keen, to fingers that are numb raw with cold.
I am empty to wander this woodland;
the years having passed and now feeling old,
with the past stretched out before these tired eyes.
I imagine Hardy, deep in the wood:
the song of the thrush a welcome surprise
to everything that he misunderstood-
of love lost and the cost of loneliness.
But new hope comes now so unexpected:
with new life, the abundance of lightness
in this darkest hour with old love now dead.
A simple song, at this the old year's end:
so sweet with hope and pulling of the heart,
a tune as ancient as the moon, transcends
all reasoning and all doubt to depart.
The young man is born again from the old:
his fulfillment for new love to behold.
For Thomas Hardy...on hearing again the Darkling Thrush.
Replied: 28th Dec 2018 at 22:31
You kiss me twice as I stand to greet you.
Outside, the afternoon is darkening.
We order coffee, as we talk anew:
of family and lovers past, tempting
fate to play its inevitable hand.
I notice your necklace and catch your scent;
no sunflowers, but the perfume that fanned
the flames of our love. You said it was meant
to be; and we talk on, as the clock ticks
the grey afternoon to its conclusion.
You drink your espresso; I drink my mix
of strawberry cream in expectation.
On leaving, we embrace, oblivious to all.
Our words a secret as sure as nightfall.
Replied: 30th Dec 2018 at 21:18
WINTER IN MONTREAL
My abiding memory of that winter,
going to Leonard Cohen's house.
We huddled together as the blizzard set in.
He greeted us, let us in,
and offered us olives on a black plate.
I can't remember his words, because the years
Or whether he liked my poems,
I never asked...
Replied: 31st Dec 2018 at 22:41
Last edited by jarvo: 1st Jan 2019 at 14:36:30
THE MOON IS DOWN
The moon is down
and the night is holding court.
All along the coast
the ships are coming home to port.
The midnight hour is at hand
and still the ties cut blood.
Nothing is certain as the day ends.
Nothing is understood.
Replied: 10th Jan 2019 at 23:48
Last edited by jarvo: 10th Jan 2019 at 23:54:25
LAZARUS AND HIS WOMAN
After four days in the dark,
living by candlelight and sleeping
in cardboard boxes,
they stopped searching for us.
We slept soundly that night,
and waking anew,
began our life together.
Four days dead did the trick.
and with the chains broken,
we could go anywhere:
to that sunny little island
in the blue Atlantic on our last dime...
Eating that deep dark walnut cake,
having a good
Replied: 18th Jan 2019 at 23:17
A STAR IS BORN
It happened sometime during Friday night.
Mars gave birth to a baby girl; red hair
of course, with eyes to match the cosmic light.
Hard to see in the early hours, but there,
rising at fifty degrees to the moon.
It went unheralded by the others:
Venus was vague; and it was a bit soon
she thought, and such a fuss for new mothers
that kept things to themselves like Mars would do.
Saturn frowned, thinking war would surely come;
and Jupiter watching, said: don't argue,
keep the peace, and give praise to the red Sun.
The Sun, of course, bellowed his anger to all,
dictating his law on what may ensue:
Earth would stay neutral: but the rest may fall.
And so Mars made a pact, and then withdrew:
taking the young Boadicea to the polar caps.
Up high in the mountains the infant slept,
safe from Martian storms and time to elapse,
when rain may return and those secrets kept,
would stay unrevealed under a pink sky.
A warning to all, this Martian first birth;
a voice so distant a young baby's cry-
a new star rising: a warning to Earth.
Replied: 20th Jan 2019 at 12:36
Last edited by jarvo: 20th Jan 2019 at 19:04:43
So much lost, and yet so much hanging on.
I won't look behind me, as if to care;
as if to say: don't miss me when I'm gone.
This escape, this reckless act that I dare
to do, some twenty years to the day, late.
But I'm here, watching from this window seat:
the east end as plain as the Park Head gate.
Soon to venture and closer to meet,
a city in waiting with no familiar
face to pause and say: just here for the day...
I notice the Light House, over the river:
slowly, onward, the green light's right of way,
into the dark Cathedral's platform end.
I stop and hesitate: let them all go.
Let the train empty, I am now condemned,
(as the one that bit into the black sloe,)
and face the hangman on my return home.
Too late! By the clock I await my fate.
And time moves on and I am not alone:
She stands so inviting, there at the gate...
Replied: 25th Jan 2019 at 00:48
Nice, keep up the good work
Replied: 25th Jan 2019 at 08:29
TEN YEARS LATER
Ten years later,
and the sea we crossed
still separates us from the past.
No going back,
No going back.
the snow came in from the Atlantic.
of white and gold,
like the ones you wore,
Replied: 31st Jan 2019 at 18:15
Last edited by jarvo: 31st Jan 2019 at 19:45:52
ON THE LEE SHORE
I left you on the Lee Shore,
and walked inward to the town.
I left all that I had discovered;
turning my face from the wind,
alone on the bridge
as our ship ran
Replied: 27th Feb 2019 at 22:57
Last edited by jarvo: 27th Feb 2019 at 22:58:19
You came to me in a moment,
across the great divide
of fifty years passed.
No one else really mattered;
it was always you who kept the candle lit.
Today, I heard your name again:
the song in two parts.
Fifty years now,
but I still keep coming back to it...
I fell asleep
coming home late on the midnight train.
but it almost happened again.
Age creeps up,
in the most unusual ways.
But the journey carries on:
the minutes, the hours, the days.
Replied: 15th Mar 2019 at 06:28
Six more days are left to go
Before we say goodbye
To a union of dictators
Eating humble pie
Trying this and trying that
To to keep us bound in chains
To a system of corruption
With secret global aims.
But we will have none of it
We`re fighting to be free
And run our sovereign country
Let it used to be.
We face a no-deal Brexit
Which many cite as doom
But once this farce is over
We`ll see our country boom.
Two world wars we suffered
And when the job was done
Everyone was happy
Because we fought as one.
It left us skint and bankrupt
And brought us to our knees
But the people kept on smiling
Through hardship and unease.
We embraced the task together
And it didn`t take too long
To go alone and prosper
And make our country strong
To hell with Musk and Junker
We have no need of them -
We`ll soldier on regardless
And still be great again.
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 11:41
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 11:50
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 13:20
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 13:28
Don't do Twitter,just Facebook
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 13:35
Well done........ Jarvo, another good one
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 13:55
AnotheA cucker is a cooker
I don`t care what they say
For I come from Wigan me
And it`s always been that way.
A buck has never been a book
For that`s a type of deer
And a cuckoo`s not a coocoo
That`s obviously clear.
When I look I never luck
For that is fortune glad
And when I fish I use a hook
Cos huck sounds just as bad.
It`s just these clever southerners
Replacing uck for oo
Trying to get one up on us
Like they always do
But they just can`t get beyond it
Oo is just two o`s
And a cruck will ner be a crook
As everybody knows
So they can carry on with it
And make an oo an uck
For I come from Wigan me
And I don`t give a cluck !
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 16:00
Keep up the good work, jarvo
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 16:02
Nice one NJ
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 16:20
Really nice thread, jarvo
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 16:33
Could not agree more NJ..well done
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 17:08
A Letter from the Youth of Britain
"Little Britain is severed and splintered,
A country divided in two,
Seeking answers in the slamming of doors;
We have turned our backs on you.
We weep for the union we’ve broken,
We mourn for the ties that we’ve torn,
For our break from a unity built on peace;
Into which we had been born."
by Krystina Mawer
Replied: 25th Mar 2019 at 19:19
Another one from the Youth of Britain.
Whom the majority voted to remain. Just like myself
Pencil Drawn Borders.
Robert tells me over curry
I’m sick of immigration,
stuffs Masala in his mouth and
sips his cup of tea.
There’s a poster on the wall
above the table in the kitchen,
There’s a diner, people laughing,
and a jukebox by the side.
Robert loves the ‘50s,
the dancing and the smiles-
when Britain won a war and
only 60 million died.
The carnival and music
passes by his window
he dances and he laughs,
marvels at the lights.
And when his car gets a scratch
He blames them on the corner
the shifty looking bloke,
He should go back home.
Robert tells me over curry
We’re going down the drain
and romanticises a past
that hurt more than it helped.
by Martha O’Brien
Replied: 26th Mar 2019 at 20:49
Last edited by Salmon & Ball: 26th Mar 2019 at 20:55:01
Oh no, look at Jarvos smashing thread
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 10:47
basil, where does it say this is only ‘jarvo’s thread’ ?
Who made you judge and jury?
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 14:23
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 14:30
Because jarvo started it, looks like sbs got it on him, today
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 14:47
‘Because jarvo started it’........I thought the idea of starting threads was to get other people commenting?
basil, I’ve certainly not ‘got it on’ today, but at least do the decency of using another poster’s name properly!
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 16:15
Maybe Admin could remove it,as he did with the other one.
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 18:01
“A lot of Leave voters say ‘Stop complaining, it’s democracy!’ Well democracy doesn’t always work. If five people democratically elect to take your iPhone, it’s a mugging.” –
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 20:14
Sb, why jarvo started the thread, so it's he's thread, maybe if you posted alot like I do you might understand.
I see cowardly leccymac is trying to cause trouble again
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 22:15
Its a poets thread nes pas ?...so people can add poetry.....doh
Replied: 27th Mar 2019 at 23:26
Last edited by joemaplin: 27th Mar 2019 at 23:26:53
But your not to post politics, its against the rules and moaning mindar will start skrykin... DOH!!!!!!
Replied: 28th Mar 2019 at 12:07
Last edited by basil brush: 28th Mar 2019 at 12:10:30
AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH OF LIVERPOOL
It made me think:
the day we traveled in your father's car,
through the streets of Old Swan,
to the Mitzi Bar.
You were sick coming back after the match.
A late penalty, twice taken,
almost broke our hearts.
Times remembered, people forsaken,
we lost contact when you went back home.
Today, I will take the train to Liverpool,
through the time tunnels of our youth.
I will look for you, like I always do,
as I pass the back streets of
a life half gone.
Looking at the old photographs,
one by one...
Replied: 15th Apr 2019 at 07:55
Last edited by jarvo: 15th Apr 2019 at 11:05:03
WE MET AGAIN LAST NIGHT
We met again last night.
Through the hours after midnight,
when the brandy glass filled with ice.
You appeared in the doorway
and beckoned me home.
I wish, I wish,
because you were the chosen one.
A memory to touch,
but twenty years gone...
Replied: 22nd Apr 2019 at 01:14
THE BLACK FLAG
far far out to sea,
the black flag is flying,
Replied: 17th May 2019 at 23:55
THE NEWS FROM SPAIN
You are walking
behind the ghost of Laurie Lee.
in the years that have come between us,
where did the bond go?
And what tied us to the trees of home,
is now cut and gone.
You send me a written note from Spain,
saying you are sheltering
from the sun.
And I in turn,
turn my back and am gone.
Walking by the brook
with the evening coming on...
Walking by the brook
with the evening coming on...
For A.S and A.J.
Replied: 26th May 2019 at 12:43
So far away now,
you have gone back home.
Let the day reach its conclusion:
you are back home,
free in the sun.
the time ticks on,
as the light blue sky
turns slowly to black.
I knew all along you'd go.
And if you did,
you'd never come back...
Replied: 9th Jun 2019 at 22:49
Excellent, keep up the good work jarvo
Replied: 10th Jun 2019 at 08:46
The end is here.
the late night charade.
It is hard
to take in the truth,
as I curse and comprehend,
the wicked moon rises...
playing his tricks
Replied: 13th Jul 2019 at 08:31
I have nothing to report,
late love has broken in.
and ask me to tell you of
when the beer flowed
and love was less complicated.
Now, you'd raise a smile
'...About time too...'
the summer breeze
blows over this sad place.
I bring you a flower
and ask for your forgiveness.
The day rolls on
to its conclusion...
There is no other news...
Replied: 14th Jul 2019 at 22:26
THE HIGH TREES
look at the high trees,
they have hidden you from view.
But, if I pass,
you may ask,
and I will talk to you.
I still know the way,
to the little door,
and I have still kept
And for awhile,
no one would see,
how much you still mean
Replied: 30th Jul 2019 at 21:46
You never knew,
after all the days lost,
it wasn't you...
that came and went;
in those hours I spent,
that came any nearer
to the truth.
The sea of love was too wide
My escape from the deep
was your loss...
Replied: 20th Sep 2019 at 00:01
Last edited by jarvo: 20th Sep 2019 at 00:11:35
THE LITTLE HOUSE I DIDN'T LIVE IN
I passed it today,
the little house I didn't live in.
I imagine you,
sitting in the corner;
and the gillyflowers you picked
on the window ledge.
These are the ghosts
of what might have been,
and the days uncounted
Replied: 16th Oct 2019 at 00:31
Last edited by jarvo: 16th Oct 2019 at 09:56:18
Jarvo - ‘Grave News’ is very touching, great stuff.
Replied: 20th Oct 2019 at 23:34
Thank you, Steve.
Replied: 21st Oct 2019 at 05:34
V much like the HIGH TREES jarvo.
Replied: 21st Oct 2019 at 13:53
Replied: 21st Oct 2019 at 19:26
I read a lot of this mans poems on here.
Very enjoyable they are.
Ive never commented on them before now.
The Grave News one was a great poem.
I totally agree with Steve
Replied: 21st Oct 2019 at 20:34
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 05:43
Some great poems on here and very enjoyable to read . I agree with Grimshaw , The High Trees is excellent
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 05:49
It is really refreshing to read posts giving positive feedback to Jarvo's efforts.
Many people rubbish it because they don't agree with his views on other topics, so to see posters telling him that they enjoy his work must be a real fillip to him.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 09:54
I agree B boy,it's got to the stage now where who can throw the most
insults out,very intelligent not..I've just been reading some threads from
way back when WW was exactly that, Wiganers..eg..people getting in
touch with mates,relations friends etc, all because of someone posting a
thread,there was hardly any back biting or insults,threatening..what has this
forum turned into,certainly not Wiganworld as it should be..have these
stupid people not the intelligence to see what they're doing..bringing Wiganers down big time..it's got to the stage where everyone is seeing who can quite the most snide remarks..and that isn't what WW should be all
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 10:51
Thank you for all the kind words.
I have a voice, but what folk don't know is that most of these poems are purely spontaneous. I hardly work on a poem, maybe those that are written in specific meter being the exception.
My short ones are my best...in my opinion.
Thanks again again for reading them.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 11:13
By the way - I didn't say that I enjoyed them
The short ones ARE the best as you get the end of them quicker.
Bring plenty of money on Saturday - I will be thirsty.........
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 11:55
No Corona’s on Saturday Phil. I never read them Phil. Must be something in my DNA. I have no time for poetry or Shakespeare etc. Read lots of books though.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 12:19
Last edited by broady: 22nd Oct 2019 at 14:03:14
Be good if you could do one about Ashurst Beacon jarvo.
Spent many many happy hours up there with mam and dad ,sisters and brother ,and mates during school holidays and even when i had left school .
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 13:39
Grimshaw , Not been to Ashurst Beacon for a number of years , but went to visit just a few weeks ago , still as beautiful as ever . Yes , any Poems by Jarvo relating to local beauty spots , would be very welcome on this , his Poets Thread
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:09
I wonder if his wife reads these soppy poems about lost loves and what could have been?
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:20
I don't think it's any of our business lectriclegs.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:29
Don't worry Momac, he'll soon get Ron to remove that post.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:34
Tetley Bitter man for many many many years. I do remember Corona pop and am wondering if that was what you meant - I can't pretend that I have any appetite for bottled lagers.
I am not a poetry fan either but I try to read Jarvo's to see whether the topic is one that I can see the logic behind. I must confess that 99 times out of 100 I have no idea what motivates his subject matter.
As far as book reading is concerned I am with you all the way. I must read a hundred or more every year.
Lectriclegs - his wife probably dictates them to him.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:53
Is he not with Julie any more, then Builderboy?
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:56
Why not pose the question to Jarvo rather than me. There's a good fellow.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 18:59
Was only asking because he seemed to be quite proud of himself at the time,posting all about it on here.
Strange thing is all the posts seem to have disappeared.
Ah well, I ask him like you said next time he's on.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 19:10
I was referring to the Mexican beer that you may have sampled. Hope it went well.
Replied: 22nd Oct 2019 at 20:14
The hotel itself had draught XX (whatever that is).
We spent a couple of days sampling the bars of 5th Avenue in nearby Playa del Carmen and tried numerous types of beer, both draught and bottled.
When it's hot and sunny they all hit the mark albeit I am not sure that they would be as pleasant on a rainy January evening in Pemberton.
The holiday itself was fine - a kind of nothing to report fortnight really (and that is never a bad thing)
Mrs Builderboy is wanting to go cruising next time so I will be hunting around to try and fine something she fancies.
Well done Toronto Wolfpack. I suspect that they will find next year a bit different from the previous two or three.
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 09:57
Builderboy: Hopefully we'll be cruising down to the Queens on Saturday night.
Tie-up with Mr Melody and tell him to be in the Bat Cave at eight bells.
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 11:08
Jarvo, I confess to reading and liking your poetry.
It is usually personal, about people, places, and events from your life.
You use mainly blank verse, but poetry can use any form, be it rhyming verse, blank verse or even iambic pentameter like Shakespeare did.
I hope you continue to post them, but more importantly, have you thought of getting them published?
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 13:21
Ray - don't encourage him!
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 14:36
"Ray - don't encourage him!"
LOL, SORRY BB!!!!!!!!
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 17:38
And I am just a country boy
money have I none,
but I've got silver in the stars
and gold in the morning sun,
gold in the morning sun...
...And I too was a country boy,
going to Ashurst Beacon.
With a rolled-up tent to shelter in,
and a sleeping bag to lie on
a sleeping bag to lie on...
We went at dawn with the sun at our backs
going to Ashurst Beacon.
With a tin of mandarin oranges,
and a spanish to chew on
a spanish to chew on...
We heard a cockerel and saw an owl,
going to Ashurst Beacon.
And caught a glimpse of the Irish Sea,
on the long flat plain beyond
on the long flat plain beyond...
We touched the hand of God that morn,
going to Ashurst Beacon.
And he showed us heaven was here on earth,
and not for those long gone,
and not for those long gone...
The years have passed since we went that day,
going to Ashurst Beacon.
But our faith's still strong and has never died ,
in the wise men that we've become.
in the wise men that we've become...
And so I am still a country boy,
when I go back to Ashurst Beacon.
And I have something I cherish to this day,
a memory that will live on,
a memory that will live on...
And thank you, Ray.
Eat your hearts out, non-believers...
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 19:32
Last edited by jarvo: 23rd Oct 2019 at 20:13:07
Terrific jarvo.Very well done .
Many thanks .
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 20:11
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 20:13
The late and very great Ronnie Lane..thanks for the link Jarvo,the poems not bad either lol
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 20:47
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 20:48
Joe & Jarvo.
You'll know this one then
I didn't write it. But you two should know
I've had my friends
All them that come and ate with me
All them that come and drunk with me
I've had my friends
And there's been loads
All them that said they would stand by me
All them that said they could see what I could see
I've had my friends
I've had my dreams
New moon and roses, like a foolish kid (crazy kid)
Do unto others like I would to me
But I've had my dreams
And it's one for the road, yes it is
One for the cat's eyes, yes and
One for the white line
That's taking me back home
Well now, I've had my way
All them that took me there and back
All them that left me way off the track
I've had my way
Oh and I've had my day
Just like that doggy in the story goes
But night-time comes and he's got no bones
But I've had my day
And it's one for the road... (etc.)
I love my woman
Takes her gardenia, now she stares away
Stares out the window with her eyes of grey
I love my woman
And it's one for the road... (etc.)
Replied: 23rd Oct 2019 at 21:37
Nice one sb
Replied: 24th Oct 2019 at 09:32
Last edited by joemaplin: 24th Oct 2019 at 21:39:31
One Thousand Men Are Walking
One thousand men are walking
Walking side by side
Singing songs from home
The spirit as their guide
they walk toward the light milord
they walk towards the sun
they smoke and laugh and smile together
no foes to outrun
these men live on forever
in the hearts of those they saved
a nation truly grateful
for the path of peace they paved
they march as friends and comrades
but they do not march for war
step closer to salvation
a tranquil steady corps
the meadows lit with golden beams
a beacon for the brave
the emerald grass untrampled
a reward for what they gave
they dream of those they left behind
and know they dream of them
forever in those poppy fields
there walks one thousand men
This poem has just appeared on my Facebook page & was written by a 14 year old for Remembrance Day
Replied: 25th Oct 2019 at 12:49
This poem is about my lovely late Brother who I miss every single day.
I thought I heard his voice today
Whistling through the trees
And was that his sweet gentle voice
That was on the Summer breeze
The warm winds that surround me
Could that be his embrace
If I look long enough
Will I see his lovely face
My tears are in the rain that falls
My dreams are on the wing
When I hear the lovely blackbird call
I can almost hear him sing
Replied: 25th Oct 2019 at 13:12
Very touching momac,my brother's been very ill for a year but hopefully got over the worst,take care x
Replied: 25th Oct 2019 at 13:17
Thank you NJ..I will say a little prayer for your Brother.
Replied: 25th Oct 2019 at 13:26
Terrific stuff .
Really like them .
Nomacs one hits home .
I lost my younger bro to the dreaded C.
Miss him like hell .He loved a game of snooker and always gave me at least 4 blacks start given he was a decent player .
R I P LES.
Replied: 25th Oct 2019 at 13:28
I am late,
to meet the deadline,
and sit back in my chair.
I rest in the morning black,
before the boiler comes back,
The rain rattles the kitchen window,
and the autumn tea lights flicker.
I am still here,
as the old leaves fall-
four years longer than my father;
four years further on.
What could I tell him?
Or would I rather
imagine that it wasn't to be,
And my dear mother?
Her legacy lives on,
in my warm-milk breakfast bowl
of honey and oats,
and her Saturday gift
of a ten shilling note,
now a shiny ten pounds on the window ledge.
The children have gone:
are more seldom than oft.
What can I reveal? The inner truth?
The inner turmoil of a life nearly spent?
What can I possibly tell them?
They go about their business
with traditions handed down,
that they are happy to keep
and to celebrate as their own,
coming back less frequently
and then only by phone.
I am late.
And now life comes to me
in unanswered messages
that are lost in their transit.
Words of want,
and dreams of desire;
visions of love
never to aspire,
to the road chosen and traveled upon.
So who is watching over me?
as the train tickets tumble
from the red machine,
and the girl on the platform
tells me stand back behind the yellow line.
I am fine.
But I am late,
and now to old age,
that embraces me
and catches my eye:
the reflection that I never wanted-
refusing to raise a smile.
And yet my train pushes on,
mile after mile;
taking me to where I want to go:
the hills of home are replaced
by the low
lands, and the derelict
foundries from another time.
Over old bridges still intact;
and the whole sweep
of middle England to view,
returning to the childhood memories
and the places I knew.
But surely the fingers will slow
and come to a stop.
And the clock will tick no more.
Then, I will reach my destination
in the realisation
I cannot be late
Replied: 28th Oct 2019 at 11:52
Good God John. What have you been sniffing??
I carried on until late last Saturday - I got into a round with Eric and Ros.
Thank the Lord I got an extra hour to sleep it off on Sunday morning.
Replied: 28th Oct 2019 at 14:02
I must confess I don't understand poetry unless someone explains the meaning of the poem to me. I think the point or subject is lost though if it needs explaining.
That's why I never comment.
Replied: 28th Oct 2019 at 14:56
I don't but jarvo is a decent poster and a good contributer to Wigans no1 site
Replied: 28th Oct 2019 at 15:00
Terrific jarvo .
Replied: 28th Oct 2019 at 15:45
you were late
fussing as usual
with the kids,
leaving your poppy
there will be
just an empty
place on the pew;
at the going
down of the sun,
Replied: 9th Nov 2019 at 21:02
Builder boy I’m still recovering from our last meeting you put me with jarvo on one side and Billy Melling on the other, I didn’t know what to do listen to the poetry or recover the circulation in my arm from shake hands.
See you soon
Replied: 11th Nov 2019 at 13:38
I don't recall sorting out seating arrangements last time we met wizzer. But, since you seem to have had such an enlightening time, I am sure that something similar could be arranged...........
Replied: 11th Nov 2019 at 14:43
wizzerwin, shake hands
i was talking to him last week, still daft as a brush.
Replied: 14th Nov 2019 at 19:11
THE LAST DAY OF NOVEMBER
It's the last day of November:
it will go unnoticed
as the lights are lit.
And no one in particular
will know the significance of it.
Only a memory from an old Mill House
and a lavender stick,
and the sun in the window
bring me back to it.
with the afternoon behind us,
we listen to Famous Blue Raincoat;
somewhere, in a poetry book, lies a broken heart,
and a goodbye note...
Replied: 30th Nov 2019 at 00:18
Here is my testimony.
Theses are my final
and let the years spin away.
They are written in my language.
That's all I have to say...
Replied: 14th Dec 2019 at 00:18
Delighted am sure.
What a delighrful night
We shall meet again.
Replied: 14th Dec 2019 at 02:38
Christmas Eve, 1914
They came on,
the young boys with their tins of black chocolate,
over the frosted front line.
We held our breath,
to keep them at bay...
'Steady, boys, let them come on...'
A bright moon shone;
as the darkness slipped away.
Not a word more was said,
and down the line the silence spread.
was heard again:
Who goes there?
men came to face men,
like no other time before,
or would ever be,
We held our nerve.
But they held the ace cards:
the chocolate and the black cigarettes;
and the photographs
with sweet regrets.
'Look, said a boy from our ranks,
'They're all coming on...'
And as sure as the midnight moon
they kept coming...
in ones and twos,
across the barbed night frost-
and it looked like all the world
had joined up as one...
as peace held out its hand.
And all was not
Replied: 20th Dec 2019 at 19:37
Last edited by jarvo: 21st Dec 2019 at 00:23:00
All Write Up North 2020 Short Story Competition
500 - 1000 words, with the theme of all things up north, closing date: midnight, 20th Jan 2020
Edit: The winning story “The Woman Behind the Bar” was by Ian McLoughlin (IanMcl of WW)
Replied: 21st Dec 2019 at 10:12
Last edited by jo anne: 11th Apr 2020 at 18:57:53
Call me Wenceslas.
I was the one,
who got you out of jail.
I came to you
when others fled-
when others left you in the cold.
I brought with me your winter fuel.
From the darkness
to warm your bones.
will you brave the previt,
or sleep under the deciduous hedge.
It is warmer here,
by the winter trees,
and the crackle of burning oaks.
So let me stay awhile,
by the roaring fire,
until it's time for me to walk.
Heading home by a map of the stars,
counting up the constellations;
spelling out your name in the dark...
Replied: 24th Dec 2019 at 23:21
Last edited by jarvo: 24th Dec 2019 at 23:23:33
Courtesy of the bard of Ince Kevin Holcroft,a proper poem!
It was on the never never
And it didn`t last so long
It came encased in leather
Complete with a lace and tongue.
Twas like a crumpled tortoise
But with a softer shell
All stitched up in hexagons
With a most delightful smell -
Inflated with a bike pump
And a fitting called a friend -
It took it`s time in coming
But I got it in the end.
It was a casey football
For Christmas - with a kit
Of Wolverhampton Wanderers
And it was a perfect fit,
With socks and boots with screw-on studs
In shiny black and gold -
My favourite fist division team
From the days of old
And I ran out in the falling snow
On Christmas morn to play
As if I was on Grandstand
Or Match of the Day
Filled with great excitement
As living in a dream
Like the skipper Derek Duggan
Leading out his team.
It was on the never never
And it took some time to pay
But it took me up to heaven
In the snow that Christmas day
And though it didn`t last so long -
Like the joys of being a kid -
The ball and outfit faded
But the memory never did.
Replied: 25th Dec 2019 at 11:07
...Derek 'Duggan' (Dougan) was NEVER skipper of Wolves...
Replied: 25th Dec 2019 at 20:38
Replied: 26th Dec 2019 at 12:18
Replied: 26th Dec 2019 at 12:34
They have gone.
All the buses as the last whistle blew.
All the roads leading us safely home.
We wondered then, but never knew,
what was to come as the years went.
Their passing mourned now gone to waste,
in idleness and minutes spent;
or decisions made in reckless haste.
Those loves that came to us too soon
and those longings for the brighter day,
are reflected back by the summer moon
but strangely mute with nothing to say.
Gone are the days on fields of grass,
so green and lush on that sunlit plain;
and times we knew could never last
those faces never to see again.
It is lost, this paradise we touched upon;
so brief in the bravest April night.
And Aquarius carries those lovers home
under silent showers and misty light.
Show me then your badge of faith,
the one you carried carefree and brave;
alas lost now in time and space
through careless hands unable to save.
Time passes - impostors have broken in.
Loved ones are gone to ash and dust.
Time to brace for the storm to begin:
and to mourn for our paradise lost...
Replied: 1st Feb 2020 at 21:41
Last edited by jarvo: 1st Feb 2020 at 21:45:05
We were marooned, in that tiny room,
and as the snow intensified,
the cold came between us
and turned us into
how I long for those days.
in this sun-drenched chateau,
thawed of all emotion...
wishing it would snow.
Replied: 8th Feb 2020 at 00:18
Last edited by jarvo: 8th Feb 2020 at 10:16:38
You were never Mrs Robinson-
too young for that-
and blonde anyway.
I heard the song again today:
Summer Sunday afternoons,
out on the cropped grass.
There were no trees then,
and the sun shone as summer passed.
You were my Liza Goddard:
as fresh as the yellow primrose,
sitting on the factory wall
under a deep blue sky.
But time went unnoticed,
and autumn took you
as I knew it would.
Then the skies turned grey
and the factory shut for good.
you were never Mrs Robinson,
but to me maybe you
Sitting, fifty-two years later,
across this crowded room-
with flowers in your hair...
Replied: 12th Feb 2020 at 13:49
THE HOUR IS GETTING LATE
Outside, the rain is relentless,
but let the storm pass.
you are sheltering,
so tonight I will not
This shelter we have
is merely miles apart,
but it surely delays our
Outside, the storm waits for no one,
and the hour is getting
Replied: 17th Feb 2020 at 00:23
don't be sad.
You never had
hand in hand.
Never too close to
Never swept me off my
And never ever
Never to share
a moonlit night.
Or catch the lark
or lie with me till dusk
on the freshly cut
and do take care...
Your love for me
was a castle in the
Replied: 19th Feb 2020 at 01:05
Last edited by jarvo: 19th Feb 2020 at 08:40:24
I wore black that day.
it's been my favourite colour
to remind me of how
I escaped from the
how good it felt
when the morning finally
Replied: 21st Feb 2020 at 00:30
SNOW IN MADEIRA
So much time has elapsed,
and now the fields are waterlogged.
I picture you
sitting on the quay,
elegantly smoking your french cigarette,
looking far out to sea.
the rain washes away
all that was before, and all is gone.
But your name is still on the boards,
there for all to see,
highlighted in orange for the trees of home.
I sometimes think of the distance between us:
the raging blue Atlantic
stretching beyond the harbour lights;
the days and weeks
of winter into spring,
and the endless nights.
Someone mentioned you today,
and asked how you were,
where you were living,
I told them you'd gone,
back to the bench on the quayside,
looking far out to sea
across the great beyond.
wishing that maybe it was true...
but knowing that the five miles of reality
are but over the black hill,
separating me and you.
We keep the past participles:
all is ended,
all ties are broken.
And still they ask about you
as if nothing has changed:
and I tell them, the truth unspoken,
my myths and my fiction:
You are sitting on the quay,
smoking your French cigarette-
wrapped in your warm winter coat-
looking far out to sea...
And there is snow in Madeira...
Replied: 25th Feb 2020 at 21:16
VENUS HAS RETURNED
Venus has returned.
Yes, to where she first left
in the year that death
closed its front door,
and to all that went before.
You will remember her:
walking up the lane,
eyes fixed as she passed.
You may remember that you hardly spoke
a word to her
and never asked,
how it felt to be Venus
in her blue jeans
and pretty shoes;
how special it was to shine
like a crescent moon,
and to smile at you
from a crowded room.
She has passed number 82
and gone to live where her garden
looks on to the old fields.
It is here where she stands at midnight
looking back again,
and shining like a torch,
listening to the songs
that you should have shared.
Shall I ask her?
Shall I dare to be the go-between?
If I don't,
what will you do?
What will not unfold?
the Venus you barely knew in those lost years,
will she still be the same?
For once, I know
that she spoke kindly of you,
and smiled when I mentioned
Replied: 29th Feb 2020 at 22:11
Last edited by jarvo: 1st Mar 2020 at 20:59:26
IN THE GARDEN AT GETHSEMANE
You can still go there,
by the light of a Middle Eastern moon.
You can rest under the olive trees,
drink your bottled water
and needn't worry about washing your hands.
It is free-
to go as you please,
free from the media and the internet.
And there are no plans
to begin your self isolation there...
Replied: 8th Mar 2020 at 22:00
THE RED LIGHT
the red light
I thought would be there forever,
and the lovers lost,
are waiting on the bridges
I never crossed.
Replied: 10th Mar 2020 at 21:23
you cannot go out
the man in the suit.
must stay at
and live off
I did what I was
low and behold,
Replied: 23rd Mar 2020 at 20:17
Replied: 23rd Mar 2020 at 20:25
HER PAPER BOAT
Ten years have gone,
since your paper boat
I remember, you pushed it,
your fingers gently letting go.
It sailed downstream,
and under the weeping
went a memory,
of a day
not unlike this.
On that day, down by the river,
my boat foundered,
on a river stone,
and ran aground in the
But yours sailed on-
In the clear water it sped,
to the sea...
that was finished,
between you and me.
Everything you'd brought
on your paper boat;
watertight with candle wax,
its precious cargo
Today, this harbour is empty,
and the tide is low.
But, out at sea,
a tiny vessel
braves the waves
taking all we had with you,
in search of your
Replied: 25th Mar 2020 at 22:23
These are more like statements rather than poetry...
Replied: 25th Mar 2020 at 23:08
I worked with man that could write what he called Odds to ----- anything that append that day is name was Alan Thorpe a good friend, these two are from about 40 years ago
(A night out with our Dougie)----(Phone call for Dougie)
Replied: 25th Mar 2020 at 23:55
Last edited by dougie: 26th Mar 2020 at 00:30:40
Definition of Free Verse:
Free verse is a literary device that can be defined as poetry that is free from limitations of regular meter or rhythm, and does not rhyme with fixed forms. Such poems are without rhythm and rhyme schemes, do not follow regular rhyme scheme rules, yet still provide artistic expression.
Replied: 26th Mar 2020 at 05:34
He would write them free hand why working on any scrap paper at hand a few lines a time, it was one of them good friend love/hate relationships had they not typed it out in the office after showing it them, this would be with the others still on scraps of paper, they are still knocking about after 40+ years this just turned up unexpectedly---(there's a full story to them both)
Replied: 26th Mar 2020 at 06:56
I do not like rhyming schemes like the one above; it is so easy to write, and I find it achingly dull.
That said, each to his own.
If you study Her Paper Boat, there are many things in there that are poetic. You've got to know what you are looking for.
Thanks for reading.
Replied: 26th Mar 2020 at 08:43
O.K. Suckholin again LG Found it, each to there own
Replied: 26th Mar 2020 at 13:10
Last edited by dougie: 6th Apr 2020 at 04:49:27
I always look to see what you have uploaded
Replied: 26th Mar 2020 at 13:39
Last edited by dougie: 6th Apr 2020 at 04:25:14
look up to the sky.
You will find me there
in-between Venus and the
The darkening of the day
can bring back memory-
alas - brief and bright,
but gone too
For now guilt has come between us,
as telling the truth
plays its painful part,
denial will surely deaden the
I am gone now,
so go to your piano.
Play me your song-
but play only
the black notes.
In the days that
I will hear it everywhere I go.
At every corner,
I may stop,
and see a face I knew,
But the song will play on,
a timeless testimony
to a love denied by
its sad refrain
lingering from season to
recalls the years of
look again to the sky
and take comfort
Replied: 28th Mar 2020 at 12:38
Last edited by jarvo: 28th Mar 2020 at 13:52:06
Jarvo--- Hope you don't mined me using your poem, as my brother passed away this week, I printed a really good photo of him sat relaxed on the bowling green and printed it this way so it fit on the back. (is it O.K.to give to family members) YES or NO will do
Replied: 5th Apr 2020 at 09:24
Last edited by dougie: 6th Apr 2020 at 04:28:03
Replied: 5th Apr 2020 at 09:44
THE VIXEN AND THE VIRUS MOON
She'll be there,
a blink away from the dark.
if you can,
away from the little park.
Take care down by the tracks,
where life is taken
in the passing of an hour.
Take your torch
and slyly watch which way she goes-
across the down fast,
or on to the up slow.
This virus moon is bright tonight,
which may help her on her way.
But take heed at the junction's cross,
or you'll let her get
Replied: 5th Apr 2020 at 15:38
Nice one Jarvo..Ralph was a lovely man
Replied: 5th Apr 2020 at 23:18
I got there late
as they turned the house lights bright.
Too late, he's gone, out of sight.
But he left you this song,
about Sam Stone,
saying you'd understand
when you got home.
And so I did,
holding back the tears,
having missed this voice,
over all these years.
And listening now,
I just had to know,
why I'd never heard
his music before.
This man of words
and voice of gold,
that I'd saved for the day
when I got old.
And so I hear his voice
for the first time tonight,
and the years fall away
and the world's alright...
For John Prine.
Replied: 9th Apr 2020 at 21:30
Last edited by jarvo: 9th Apr 2020 at 21:39:21
Another good-un Jarvo, I would like to thank you for the use of your Poem I printed it in a small card folder that I made for each family member as a keep sake,
Replied: 9th Apr 2020 at 22:11
Last edited by dougie: 11th Apr 2020 at 10:44:19
Dougie: You're welcome.
Replied: 10th Apr 2020 at 12:34
If ever there was,
a day as long as this,
then show me your history books.
Show me where it began,
and show me where
And then tell me, if you must,
that you want to stay
Replied: 11th Apr 2020 at 18:39
Coasting through Cambuslang,
I text to say I'm on the east side of town.
The train slows on the severe curve;
and I pull the carriage window down.
Into the suburbs of Glasgow the doubts remain.
Will I ever see home again?
Will I ever walk those familiar streets,
or feel those pangs for home-
As I go further into the complex web
with all loyalties gone?
And yet, as the morning fades to certain midday,
I hear other calls that want me to stay.
Other voices that spur me on:
To the new and unknown I carry on.
To begin a life on a far outpost,
By the sea and sand of a rugged coast?
Too late - this particular train will not stop here.
And Central Station will surely appear.
Leaving doubt to die and fate to hang.
As I look back leaving Cambuslang...
Replied: 16th Apr 2020 at 21:29
Last edited by jarvo: 16th Apr 2020 at 21:44:58
He didn't steal your heart away.
Instead, he planted
the seeds of love in your garden.
his night scented stock
will breeze by your
he will come back to you then...
and be Winter no more.
Replied: 18th Apr 2020 at 16:00
THIS BE THE CURSE
It f---s you up does love.
It doesn't mean to,
but it does.
Those thoughts and feelings
become tired and old hat,
Misery is never that far
from your back door;
like a river after rain.
And the pain returns
like an old friend
and let this day pass:
the birds will stay
roosting in bare trees;
and the rain will turn
and fall as snow...
becoming black ice.
For Philip Larkin
Replied: 20th Apr 2020 at 17:17
POEMS FROM THE WOOD:
Wish you were here...
On the rope you'd cling,
and yet, unseen,
this tree still sheds its
tears of green.
You flew from the highest branch -
fearless and free,
a short life of darkness
Your ghost appears now,
clinging on at the dusk of day,
the ironic sadness,
the rope you cling to,
took your life away.
NIGHT IN THE WOOD
The sound of laughter
around the campfire bright,
in the summer wood.
Echoing down the lost years,
a night song
his head forever
on the block.
Love him dearly
love him not.
Let him run free
deep in the night.
And then let him see
the morning light.
For Malc x
Replied: 22nd Apr 2020 at 23:35
Last edited by jarvo: 9th May 2020 at 14:03:58
And then he came to his last wish.
He thought of the first girl he'd loved,
I wish, he said,
she could come back to me,
my first love, the girl I knew and loved
replied slowly in a state of
The other two,
your first and second wishes,
I cannot grant you those...
in the general scheme of things,
he was right, I suppose.
But the Genie could not fulfill it.
and felt some remorse.
So the third wish was granted,
and she appeared in due course.
And the two lovers were reunited
and were lonely no more
And as they walked into their cottage,
she asked what the other two were,
looking straight into his eyes
at the foot of the stair.
Those wishes were improbable
and don't fear that you've been misled...
I had to test his powers,
he quietly said.
And the other two? she answered,
with a slight hint of defeat.
He looked at her with affection,
and then gazed down the street...
They were for my mother and my father,
he turned to her and said...
But the Genie could not do it-
he could not bring back the dead...
Jarvo 2020 x
Replied: 27th Apr 2020 at 13:42
THE MAN IN THE MOON, AND OTHER LOVE SONGS
the man in the Moon loved a woman.
And they walked together over the
When it rained,
(which it did then)
they sheltered in a lunar cave.
That was their happy home.
and the man grew restless.
Then, one dark day, looking up in the east,
he spotted Venus.
A year later,
leaving the woman in the Moon
to her own devices.
Soon, the woman in the Moon,
danced to other love songs:
American soul records left
by her new Astronaut friends.
she rocks away her days,
to songs about love
and lost dreams.
While the man, she once loved,
sleeps on another planet,
with his Venus
in blue jeans...
Replied: 28th Apr 2020 at 22:25
Last edited by jarvo: 28th Apr 2020 at 22:26:02
You are sitting on the right,
lemon blouse to match your hair.
Ten years on,
it could be yesterday,
forty two years further back.
America embraces you-
in all its sunshine and sham-
and you are at ease in your
did you really remember?
Or was it just for me that you made an
I believe you;
no matter what becomes of us
at the turn of the year.
I thank you for your patience.
And I am waiting
Replied: 4th May 2020 at 10:14
Last edited by jarvo: 5th May 2020 at 12:49:08
He wrote Sisters of Mercy here,
playing barre chords,
and fasting for a week.
I miss him,
and his wise thoughts concerning
love, hate and the meek.
He said once,
and I quote:
one day all lovers will find
a way back
and be beside the
ones they chose first.
I wonder if he was referring to me?
by the little road,
holding your hand in the hot sunshine of
Replied: 6th May 2020 at 00:30
Last edited by jarvo: 6th May 2020 at 11:18:56
THE BROWNIE TREE
Under the Brownie tree,
you are sitting with the girls...
Leave the light on, you said-
when your little day has come to an end,
and you come home to your bed.
Walking home at dusk-
a little ghost now,
half seen, never forgotten,
kicking pebbles in the dust...
Replied: 14th May 2020 at 21:41
Last edited by jarvo: 17th May 2020 at 18:55:54
Notes on The Brownie Tree:
The Brownie Tree is a poem about loss. The narrator sees his late daughter again under the Brownie Tree. This is the tree where the local Brownie Troop gather at midsummer to sing songs and tell stories.
Her last words to him are 'Leave the light on...' This is when she returns at dusk to go to bed. She did not return.
The narrator (father) returns years later to search for the Brownie Tree. He sees her again, under the tree, with the others...He watches her and her last words to him are repeated in his head...'Leave the light on...'
The poem ends when he sees her ghost, at dusk, following the path home kicking the pebbles, like she used to do, in the dust.
Replied: 15th May 2020 at 05:06
Crikey Jarvo you are a bundle of laughs first thing in a morning, aren't you.
Replied: 15th May 2020 at 10:11
A five hour trek
to the edge of the sea.
hidden with me,
and to keep away those eyes
that cannot see.
That cannot stop
we cast away.
All night and all day
this train sped south,
away from all that is now not ours.
And we watch the sea breaking forth
these passing hours
have bled us dry.
As we cross the line
that leads to a new day
under a dawn Dawlish
From 'The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn'
Replied: 15th May 2020 at 23:52
THE PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN
Oh great God Pan
play your pipes on the island
across the stream.
Play as the clean
water flows over the stones;
deep in the soil the bones
of the dead souls lie.
And as the dawn cracks the sky
walk the hallowed ground again
with the warm sun rising
misting away the rain...
Replied: 16th May 2020 at 07:15
She wanted only this:
his heart to hold
and to carry till the day
At her deathbed,
he caresses her cold hand.
that he cannot place inside her,
is deep in his chest.
His steady tears blind him
as the nurse closes her eyes
His heart that she needed
beats a hundred goodbyes...
Jarvo 2020 x
Replied: 17th May 2020 at 11:42
this English language institution,
with all its vagueries and traps.
We tred warily
for fear of humiliation;
for fear of stumbling
as the audience gasps.
The love letters are rushed,
but not by the old hand that beckons,
or caresses to touch,
but by the mechanical keys
that catch the weary fingertip's crunch.
and count the cost of such folly-
hoping for salvation in our hour of need.
But then the verdict comes,
so swift its reply
but with no judge to read....
the image shown, is still
of the black cap...
...You are guilty of treason-
and the sentence for such is this:
Ten years more of solitude,
for the grammitical errors
Replied: 18th May 2020 at 11:06
Last edited by jarvo: 18th May 2020 at 11:20:08
Two pronged horn,
the Goat God watches night.
he will reel you in.
Across the ice cold brook,
he will look,
in the water's shade.
His music will play,
on this his holy ground.
So be alert to guard,
all possessions you have found.
And the love that you cherish,
your sweetheart he will woo,
by stealth and by trickery,
But under these illusions,
harbour similar false pretence,
he will strike as the sun scorches
leaving nothing to expense.
So bow as though in admiration,
and slyly let him think...
You care not for his kingdom,
his deciet and his bluff...
Hold tighter to your sweetheart,
it will surely be enough...
From 'The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn'
Special thanks to Kenneth Grahame
Replied: 18th May 2020 at 12:30
it takes you to places where you want go to-
and away from peope you'd rather not know...
Replied: 19th May 2020 at 00:16
SHE IS SITTING BY THE OPEN WINDOW
No other moment, as perfect as this.
Solitude comes now,
on this late Sunday afternoon.
My journey here,
by woodland paths and endless summer dawns;
by sunsets and night birds gathered.
by the long road-
of hope, but tarnished by deceit;
that imposter that weighed you down.
This was to be:
our courses separated by two stormy seas.
This gift of you,
sent by the powers that have long
eyed us from afar.
You have come to me
not by fate, or chance,
but brought together by our star-
long shining over that western sea.
A crescent light,
she shines for all who are weary
a beacon guiding us home.
by the fading light,
your scent on the cushions,
your fingers, delicate,
sewing your rose-petal pillow...
...sitting by the open window.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 00:14
He would leave,
by the back door,
and out into the winter street.
His reluctance weighed him down,
almost to stop-
and go back again.
But the night got the better of him-
leaving all its guilt,
to shower him like rain...
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 00:39
Last edited by jarvo: 23rd Jun 2020 at 08:49:40
30,000 + dead and you are posting this bilge. I'll go to the top of our stairs. What an hypocrite. Word on the street is you are aging rapidly. True or false?
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 02:36
You ok, Bill?
Don't normally hear you post cheap stuff like this.
Not on here, lad...you can do better than this.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 06:59
Reaction to your appalling post to Anne yesterday. No need for it.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 07:28
Just putting things into perspective don't you think?
Folk are under tremendous pressure in the work place, hospitals, and generally.
A jetwash pales into insignificance when folk are queuing for food wearing masks.
My poems are read by many people on here - and are enjoyed by many. To call me an hypocrite, is spectacularly unfair.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 09:07
Last edited by jarvo: 21st May 2020 at 10:28:28
You do not know Anne's circumstances.
At the moment people are having to do whatever they can to stay mentally well especially if they are stuck at home 24/7.
If that means jet washing helps then so be it, just like your poetry helps you.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 16:48
One of the longest threads, and a nice one, RUINED!!!!!!
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 18:28
Could you tell us that poem about the Village Idiot please. Seems very appropriate.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 18:40
And what we are looking are here ladies and gentlemen is yet another case of........not what has been said, rather who said it
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 18:43
Please, don't spoil this thread.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 19:07
I thought the Ashurst Beacon one was rather good .
Just saying .
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 19:14
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 19:32
I, for one,have no intention of spoiling the thread and I am sure you will return the compliment on all the RUGBY LEAGUE threads moving forward. Don’t take it personal but I have no appreciation whatsoever for poets and playwrights etc. Would sooner spend an hour in Walshy’s company than read a poem.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 20:29
Well you and the "newbie" spoiled it.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 20:56
The Village Idiot he was there,
He wasn’t up too much.
Let the Bard complete it.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 21:06
It is clearly apparent Bill, that you CANNOT read or appreciate poets and playwrights.
But please keep your comments off this thread. If you must insult my intelligence, then open up a thread of your own to do so.
This thread is for poetry and nothing else.
I have no other comment to make on this matter.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 23:20
When did you become admin saying what threads are for? Very few threads stick to subject. I look forward to Jarvo free RUGBY LEAGUE threads. Off to bed. Work tomorrow.
Replied: 21st May 2020 at 23:48
Well said jarvo, 👍👍👍
Replied: 22nd May 2020 at 09:39
Replied: 22nd May 2020 at 09:59
Last edited by firefox: 23rd May 2020 at 12:29:18
Just ignore them, jarvo.
Replied: 23rd May 2020 at 11:57
Whats your take on EDEN ROCK by Charles Causley.?
Replied: 23rd May 2020 at 13:06
Replied: 23rd May 2020 at 22:02
THE LOOKING GLASS
Take a last look, said a voice,
before the glass cracks
and breaks into sixty five pieces.
I see Robert Lewis and Michael Bailey;
Mr Brown is sharpening the red pencils.
I see David Harris and poor Mr Causey.
Look closely, said the voice:
I see Isobel tidying her desk, and Elaine
is giving her a fresh white feather.
Margaret Connelly has lost her glasses-
and Dorothy and Francis
are writing me a letter.
And what do you see in that lonely room?
I see the shadows from the fire:
they are dancing like the devil on the
I see the flames:
snapping and spitting through the long night,
And who is smiling at you under the lampost?
It is my first love;
her name I shall not disclose
She is calling out my name...
And she is offering me a red rose.
Look again through the looking glass.
My brother is playing his guitar:
it is that song about the riverbank
with the sweet refrain.
He is well - and there is no more
And now, who is behind you?
I cannot see. I will not look behind me.
Those in the looking glass are not what they seem.
They are ghosts that can only appear
in my dream.
She is here...returned!
In all her beauty and charm,
my first love come back from the dead...
The voice reassured him:
She is alive, and always has been...
Replied: 23rd May 2020 at 22:52
Last edited by jarvo: 24th May 2020 at 10:52:23
Thank you, Grimmy, that poem, which I never read before, inspired me.
So I wrote the Looking Glass in fifty minutes.
Replied: 23rd May 2020 at 22:57
My pleasure jarvo.
Terrific stuff re THE LOOKING GLASS.I enjoyed reading it .
Glad you enjoyed EDEN ROCK.
Replied: 24th May 2020 at 09:13
Thank you, Grimmy. You comments are most welcome.
I must read more of Charles Causley.
Replied: 24th May 2020 at 10:51
Your welcome jarvo .
Tell truth i wasnt aware of him until a friend alerted me.
Keep up your obvious enjoyment of writing your stuff and sod the critics .
Replied: 24th May 2020 at 15:00
Thank you so much.
Replied: 24th May 2020 at 20:45
People of Wigan & beyond!
The Old Courts want your poems, creative writing and pictures for a book.
The submission portal is now open at: ww.theoldcourts.com (Submit by 31st May)
The book will be available to buy from Amazon.
All proceeds will be used to support the work they do.
Replied: 26th May 2020 at 16:06
Replied: 26th May 2020 at 17:02
Please continue to post your poems Jarvo.
I confess to not always understanding them, they are certainly enigmatic and personal, , but they are ‘wordy’ and meaningful.
Replied: 26th May 2020 at 18:15
Thank you, Ray.
Replied: 26th May 2020 at 19:01
JESUS WEEPING BY THE BROOK
I came by the path that led to the brook.
It was there where I saw Him-
sitting by the willow tree that overlooked
the water's edge.
Dawn was breaking
when I saw Him weeping.
His slender hands over His face,
and His precious head bowed in sadness.
I stood in awe
in the time taken before the cock crowed.
as time slowed and the breaking dawn slowly crept,
slowly over the half light,
Replied: 30th May 2020 at 11:52
Last edited by jarvo: 30th May 2020 at 11:56:16
Replied: 30th May 2020 at 12:22
Thank you, Grimmy.
Replied: 1st Jun 2020 at 06:37
A MEMORY OF YOU
I have a memory of you-
It is vague now like most memories are.
You are standing with your Father,
by his old car.
How young he looks then, and you are but a child.
This memory comes as bright as any moon,
and it stays
on the days
when I feel you near.
when your spirit flies,
it will fade and disappear.
But you have stayed...
as others have passed on,
your little room as it was then...
with the summer shadows catching
the sun coming in...
Jarvo 2020 x
Replied: 1st Jun 2020 at 11:18
Last edited by jarvo: 2nd Jun 2020 at 00:10:43
TURN OUT THE LIGHT
Turn out the light...
and let's put ourselves
Better this way
to hide the truth and disappointment.
And at the end,
let us turn away from each other:
you go your way-
and I'll go mine...
Replied: 2nd Jun 2020 at 06:46
Last edited by jarvo: 2nd Jun 2020 at 06:47:28
I have a memory of you .
Replied: 2nd Jun 2020 at 13:15
Thank you, Grimmy.
Replied: 2nd Jun 2020 at 19:04
So many words,
to learn and to choose,
and some not so nice
on the soles of your shoes.
And some we think are approriate
but crumble on the grater;
coming back to haunt you
at the inquest later.
But one word burns hands
and is too often thrown away,
having been locked in the cellar
until the day,
that it scorches your soul
and cracks you heart,
its heat and passion
tearing it apart...
So don't ignore it
if you spot it on the page.
And study it wisely
whatever your age-
for when spotted
it can take you high above;
this thing, this impostor-
this word called love.
Replied: 3rd Jun 2020 at 12:02
GRETA GARBOR IS SLEEPING
I will not wake her.
She is tired and the birds have gone to roost.
I came upon her by chance;
and fate has placed us side by side.
Such an odd casting,
this weird twist derived by time.
And yet her eyes are shut,
and her hands are in mine.
Blessed am I,
the one who searched down the years,
and took councel from the stars.
For no other could find her,
hidden benneath her favourite sky-.
the beaten track a red herring
deceiving others by and by.
But I took the oath:
and climbed the highest wall.
And as night comes slowly darkening,
I do not mind to be her
I do not mind at all.
Replied: 7th Jun 2020 at 09:18
Last edited by jarvo: 7th Jun 2020 at 13:05:29
TEN MILES OUT
I was ten miles out.
Behind me lay the remnants
of a hundred goodbyes.
One hundred hands
not beckoning me back.
And a hundred voices now struck dumb.
You left it late,
This eleventh hour distress call;
I had almost given you up for dead.
As this ocean's tide pulls me toward you,
Your call for help
An SOS in my head.
Replied: 13th Jun 2020 at 07:27
The river awaits me.
It is angry and filled with the sea.
I must cross
at its widest point
where the current rushes
and pulls me in.
On the other side lies the land of happiness,
where the sun has broken through.
I must go deeper to the rivers's bed -
to get across to you.
Replied: 16th Jun 2020 at 10:20
Never one for your kind of stuff,
I only had eyes
for Marilyn Munroe.
Or was it those knickers
when the wind blew her dress,
I didn't know.
You were different, of course,
straight laced; like Mrs Moyle
scattering all the kids in the corridor.
I heard you sing,
and to be honest, wasn't that impressed;
but you had guts to do what you did -
there in the firing line giving your best.
In the hot Burma night
a table with two drinks poured,
is empty now...
and with the sun dipping in the west,
only the crickets
break the sad silence...
Replied: 19th Jun 2020 at 08:55
SHE IS LATE
She is late
and now his heart beats
to a different tune.
a voice echoes
she is coming soon,
her skin as smooth as silk-
her eyes smiling
blue to a faded grey
as safe as milk.
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 00:15
Is poetry not a hobby?
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 05:27
It comes from within, Bill.
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 05:53
Happy birthday Jarvo.
66 years old today and never guilty of buying the first and last rounds.
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 09:59
Cheers, Sir...66 going on Fifteen...:)
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 12:44
I wish it was 66 and going TO The Fifteen!
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 13:12
Replied: 23rd Jun 2020 at 16:05
LADY OF THE FLOWERS
It would dawn on me
that lockdown sun. It rose and it set,
as the green corn was coming on-
drying me out,
as the morning broke,
from the dampness and the dark of the night.
As her ghost, returning,
spoke our language so clear,
putting all our wrongs to right.
Her flowers were real:
some scented by the powder of dusk-
and the others potted in bloom.
But she would not come to meet me-
or be caught unguarded
under that warm April moon.
I would be guided instead,
by her gillyflowers,
and from the water running freely in the brook.
And to meet again the lady of the flowers,
and feel the love I once forsook.
Replied: 30th Jun 2020 at 07:43
LATE IN THE AFTERNOON
If I could place
just one moment in time,
it would be when
you placed your hand in mine-
out on the veranda,
before the rising of that summer moon-
on the green lawns of home,
late in the afternoon...
Replied: 21st Jul 2020 at 17:40
Last edited by jarvo: 21st Jul 2020 at 21:09:00
to tell you I was sorry,
stealing your place
amongst the satin
and the lace-
but you came back
at the breaking of dawn,
catching us both unawares-
your little bell ringing
at the foot of
Jarvo 2020 x
Replied: 3rd Aug 2020 at 19:27
Nineteen sixty two
and Spurs are going for the
and the wireless
I can hear this tune
coming down New Street
from a passing car.
And at Southport Funhouse
a week later, they're playing
Replied: 24th Aug 2020 at 12:36
He hated it-
And, not wanting to go,
compounded his misery.
At the dawn door,
she adjusted his collar and coat;
her weary eyes
Doubt shall not make an end for us,
he whispered...to ease her fears.
Turning to go,
to the icy dawn and summer's last swallows,
homewards, to face judgement and trial,
and the waiting gallows...
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 07:53
This Royal throne of Kings, This sceptred Isle, This Blessed Site
This Earth,This Realm,
Richard II Act 2 Scene 1
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 09:23
I CAN smell pernod...
Oh my God, not another visit.
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 09:28
Come not, between the Dragon and his wrath
King Lear Act 1 scene 1
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 09:35
tis aniseed the Pernod brew
thou makuth from the roots
a poets aroma ,consistent among
The shepherds welly boots
Arfurs dittys book 1 page 4
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 11:01
I CAN smell pernod
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 11:32
I can smell onions too
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 11:41
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 11:43
Terry likes the aniseed, the veggie sausage too
Onions go down well so well,
But thy hast not got a clue
tis Arfur on his horse, who is getting all the blessing
You my friends know not of him
But Please, have a go at guessing
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 12:43
Leave them to it, Arfur lad.
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 12:59
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 13:15
A good and honest thread spoiled again.
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 13:41
Funny that, sd
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 13:44
half a pound of onion rings
fry them with some sausage
add a bit of aniseed juice,
Foxes and Weasels,,,,,
The morning dew in Autumn
wets the campers feet as he
steps out from the tent
when he needs to have a wee,
Arfurs tales, book 4 chapter 2
Replied: 26th Aug 2020 at 21:17
Posted by: TerryW (4498)
A good and honest thread spoiled again.
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 08:38
Arfur. They think you are me by using those food and drink references. You see I'm Joseph, Joey Onions and one or two other ex WW members, don't take my word for it though, Arfur, just ask Basil or his master SD, isn't that right Basil? I was sussed as being those people long ago.
If brains were gunpowder... eh!
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 11:38
One of the best, and longest, threads ruined by a bunch of "newbies"
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 11:48
Well reading back on this "the best, and longest, thread" it would seem you and him that pulls your strings ruined it by posting on it on the 26th Aug 2020 at 11:41 and again at 26th Aug 2020 at 13:15 and once again by you at 26th Aug 2020 at 13:44.
Oh dear I do hope you have the grace to apologies to the author of said thread.
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 12:02
A long term poster, and decent posters , famous thread ruined..... Unbelievable
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 12:05
I agree, by you and SD.
You should both apologies,
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 12:09
Hopefully they'll go the same way as they went when they were on here before.
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 12:13
The evidence is above for all to see.
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 12:22
Because the decent posters on here must be letting admin know what "these people" are doing to Wigans no1 site.
Replied: 27th Aug 2020 at 12:33
MIDNIGHT AND THE REAPER
Based on the events of Monday 14th September
From behind the moonlight,
a hand strikes - a blow
as cold as ice.
Down we go
as the reaper draws his scythe...
I catch the flat of a blade;
and it is now that I am afraid.
Through the midnight black
I pull back,
but cannot see his face.
Further down we go,
as blow after blow,
across a carpet cold.
He retreats to come again:
and pulls harder as we break.
My arm is weak,
as I seek my voice
A word, a light,
I cry out for mercy mild,
but it is he who withdraws...
And I am a child-
alone in the midnight hour.
My speech wavers
and words come slow...
But he has gone...retreated
to warily go,
with his broken scythe
and all along a moonlit road.
Now he can hear my cry....
'Strike me not-
for fear it will be your last!'
As I am cast as one not to break...
But to heed the good spirit's will;
that is with me now and still;
coming from death's eerie wake,
to speak clear and fulfill-
this good life never to forsake...
But to stand tall again and still.
To stand tall again and still.
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 14:35
Give us. Break jarvo we want cheering up
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 14:39
Jarvo suffered a mini-stroke, a TIA, on Monday evening. I am happy to say that it seems to have left him without impairment and pray to God that it will remain so.
As many of you might know Jarvo and I have been friends for more than 50 years and I am delighted to see him able to express his thoughts through his beloved poetry.
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 15:48
Maybe to much running and to much ale, was he taking blood thinners
for his irregular heartbeat
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 15:57
I too am filled with woe, feeling sadness , hurt and fears,
that a man can work all his good years
Then get ill in later years,
This time is meant for you, to do the things you like
like writing stupid poetry
and getting on the mike,
going walks and football and gorping at the trains
not having strokes and dodging scythes
and having aches and pains,
Stand thee up my friend and look it in thy eye
point thy finger to the sky, then tell it very firmly
Its not my day to die.
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 16:17
Get well soon, Jarvo
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 16:33
best wishes jarvo
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 17:03
Get well soon. Maybe time to put the brush away. Be safe.
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 17:23
Thank you, Builderboy...and all who wish me well.
I am fine.
It was indeed a terrifying experience...but I kicked the Reaper's ass.
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 17:47
On Monday he thought he was a gonner
On Wednesday he was eating a Donner.
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 18:02
best wishes Jarvo
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 18:05
Get well soon jarvo
Replied: 17th Sep 2020 at 23:25
Best wishes jarvo.
Replied: 18th Sep 2020 at 14:40
As I speak, I am mulling over the aftermath of Monday night's fight with the Grim Reaper.
I have a bruise on my left shoulder, and a lump on my head. The scythe when it first hit me, was misdirected and caught me blade sideways. This gave me a chance to swing back and catch the bugger in its ribcage. I followed up with the old one-two, but he kicked me on my side. Fearing the worst, I rose quickly and caught him off guard; the demon came again and wellied me on my shoulder. It was at this point that I fell again and feared my days were at an end...
Then, something strange happened...
I cried out for mercy...
The hooded demon withdrew almost immediately, and I rose for a third time. I felt a warm power inside me and I knew then that he'd fled.
The rest of that encounter was one off relief and emotion....
I slowly left the battlefield, scarred and shaking, and took refuge downstairs.
Here, much later, I was assisted by two female Angels dressed in military uniforms who patched me up and said how lucky I'd been.
I never did see the Reaper's face.
And the tale goes that you only see him when he puts the scythe into your heart...
He missed me by a mile, the dozy bugger.
Ah, well, should've gone to Spec Savers...
Thank you for all your good wishes.
Replied: 18th Sep 2020 at 15:54
Last edited by jarvo: 18th Sep 2020 at 15:55:30
Buy your self a bike to help keep you in better shape.
Replied: 18th Sep 2020 at 17:21
When did you last finish the London Marathon in around 3 hours Fat Mick?
Replied: 18th Sep 2020 at 17:34
THREE HOURS AND SEVEN MINUTES
I remember a time.
It stayed with me over the years.
I ran the length and breadth of London
in just over three hours.
Funny how life ebbs and flows:
you run with the pack-
but no one really knows.
The time it takes to set life in stone.
And the memories run with you
into the unknown.
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 08:04
When did you last finish the London Marathon in around 3 hours Fat Mick?
The answer is never because Im not that daft, Im only saying buy a bike to make it easier to get out and about, and to keep himself in better shape.
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 08:09
Not in France, Mick, biking up those lovely mountains?
Stick to the old canals of Wiggin, eh, lad?
And preferably fall in one...
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 08:19
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 10:03
Glad to hear you are better jarvo, take it easy, don't take the idiots on, and don't let them spoil your smashing thread
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 10:25
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 11:15
Not in France, Mick, biking up those lovely mountains?
You dont need to go to France you can find hills high enough all round Wigan, try Parbold, Bonk, Gathurst, Hunters, Billinge, and Anglezark
Replied: 19th Sep 2020 at 14:17
I catch the train
that comes on time.
And I pass through
the old country
down the old line.
You never came with us-
your dad would
all the shenanigans
we never got up to...
but joyfully make up for,
Replied: 25th Sep 2020 at 11:15
Autumn carries over the seeds from spring
and I waiting, watch the morning skyline.
So this memory, this much waited sweetest thing,
I cherish as the day dawns. You are mine:
each word, each sweet smile, as our days unfurl,
we walk this tired town, up and down dim streets.
I still remember you, as a young girl:
fresh faced on my mind, a million heartbeats
now worn deep on a memory not lost.
I gather in the dark - these leaves now dead,
and the timeless touch of this early frost
at my fingertips. Come, rest your sweet head,
as the seeds sown in lockdown multiply.
And our stars shine bright in the evening sky.
Replied: 5th Oct 2020 at 17:31
After the shipping forecast
you can cast
your eyes north westerly
towards the snow of Greenland.
Out on the grey sea
and the whistling wind
bringing her back in-
from the lost boat
and the note
you gave to your mother.
Take us home now,
for she is safe again
like no other.
Replied: 16th Oct 2020 at 21:18
LEST I FORGET
I cannot remember
what they want me to remember.
So I pass off all the flags-
the badged berets and the
sad red flower.
I respect the dead.
But she has given me this hour;
mixing it with her tonight
the things I thought had passed.
And she will bake for me a cake,
in a heartbeat
if I ask.
I will watch her
as she bakes it:
with the flour, fruit
the warm oven aroma
And I will taste the forbidden fruit
in this room where we first met.
Taking time to drink the sacred wine
lest I forget....
...and then gently press a lily flower
and place it in a book...
to give to this tender soul
this beauty I once
- - - - -
we will trip the light fandango
in a promise made
When the world ended
on new years's eve.
in the flutter of an eyelid,
made a fool of what
there is no such deceit.
Waking before first light-
listening by the barred front door-
wishing it was the way it was,
Replied: 6th Nov 2020 at 06:31
Last edited by jarvo: 6th Nov 2020 at 19:54:08
You must think about publishing your collection as a book.
Replied: 6th Nov 2020 at 08:35
Replied: 6th Nov 2020 at 08:46
You wrote 'scared' red wine instead of 'sacred' - please edit immediately!
On behalf of fellow readers please consider not publishing your work
Replied: 6th Nov 2020 at 09:51
Builderboy: A rushed mistake when doing the original edit.
Hope you're doing ok. I hope to see you as soon as this current lockdown is lifted, if it ever is.
I'm doing ok. Went to MOSI last week. Was a good day.
Replied: 6th Nov 2020 at 12:15
ABIDE WITH ME
Abide with me,
for fate falls fast
for the faint of heart.
And she did.
Fifty two years late...
As they met at last
at the kissing gate...
Replied: 11th Nov 2020 at 13:41
SAYING GOODBYE TO DES O'CONNOR
It will be hard saying goodbye to Des O'Connor.
He takes with him
The age of: You've never had it so good.
Of chalets in yellow and red,
and all the camps where we camped
and were fed,
meat and two veg.
The age of being
on the edge:
of greater things,
and the race to get to the
The age of Trad Dad,
and the Temperance Seven;
and a young President in Dallas
prematurely sent to heaven.
And the blood-stained young men
who toiled in the wetlands
never to be heroes
in garlands of red poppies.
He takes with him
the age of innocence-
when the brylcreem gave way
and the coming of the Fab Four.
He matched them all,
and beat them at their own game:
his careless hands
steadying the ship.
He sailed through the space race
and into the platforms
and the flares.
he never went out of fashion:
laughing at himself
with sincerity and passion.
Through the chat
and with a song in his heart.
And never pretending
to be better than he was.
In the end he was beaten by a stumble;
a young old man
who was forever humble.
So I will remember this
forever with honour...
It will be hard saying goodbye to Des O'Connor.
Replied: 16th Nov 2020 at 21:03
Last edited by jarvo: 16th Nov 2020 at 21:39:09
Great stuff there Jarvo. I wondered if you were on writeoutloud.net. If not it's worth considering, to share your prose with the world. I've been on there for a while.
Replied: 20th Nov 2020 at 13:48
Brilliant stuff Jarvo, you’ve captured his longevity and the ages he lived and performed through.
Replied: 20th Nov 2020 at 14:16
One of your best jarvo .
Terrific stuff .
Replied: 20th Nov 2020 at 14:29
I notice that you didn't attempt to weave his song 'Dick-a-dum-dum' into your composition Jarvo.
Replied: 20th Nov 2020 at 16:11
I've just posted on the Des thread on PEOPLE. It has a link to his famous 'Names' song.
Replied: 20th Nov 2020 at 16:48
Thank you one and all.
JR: Only just seen your film. Brilliant stuff. And well presented by your good self.
Replied: 21st Nov 2020 at 17:58
Thanks Jarvo. But all credit goes to the team (camerawork, direction, sound, editing, production).
Replied: 21st Nov 2020 at 19:06
Replied: 22nd Nov 2020 at 11:22
is passing the one-way street-
across the road
it is morning
in jam butty land.
serve me poached eggs
is that Linden Arden
Replied: 24th Nov 2020 at 19:34
Last edited by jarvo: 24th Nov 2020 at 19:35:17
This Irish fable contains some bizarre imagery about the titular character who "loved the morning sun, and whiskey" and "stole the highlights with one hand tied behind his back." Mojo (November 2012) asked Morrison the inspiration behind this song. He explained: "It was a house I was staying in at the time. It was another way of writing songs. I just seemed to be picking stuff up, different ideas from this house. But I don't actually know what it's about. In fact I don't have a clue what most of the album is about."
"I think I was picking those songs out of the air," he added. "Psychic air. Whatever you want to call it. They were fictional characters. Sometimes a place will inspire something and you get ideas without knowing what they mean."
Van Morrison on the song, 'Linden Arden Stole The Highlights'.
Inspiration for 'Morning'.
Replied: 24th Nov 2020 at 20:11
"Writing poetry had always been my HOBBY! It was the one and only thing I could do without getting bored. I got my inspiration from human, scenery and good film. I carry a notebook with me all the time so that I can pen down my poem any moment and soon develop it into a poetry. Writing provided comfort and healing for me.
Why is all this drivel not on HOBBIES?
Come on Admin I know you exchange TV's but do your job!!!!
Replied: 26th Nov 2020 at 04:09
Last edited by broady: 26th Nov 2020 at 04:10:42
Come on Bill, stop sitting on the fence and tell us precisely what you are thinking.................
Replied: 26th Nov 2020 at 09:21
The dusk hesitates,
for a moment a candle lit under a sheet of sky.
Across the old road, the factories ferment
in a wine of rust;
the berries picked long ago,
by the young men in velvet coats-
those ripe sweet things smiling in faded photographs-
and all hope gone.
The pretty young girls
in their ribbons and their high shoes, unsmiling now,
gone to places they never wanted to go,
with strangers they never wanted to meet.
And then the dusk bleeds
for all the old wounds are open to the frost.
Slowly, the orange red blackening
for young loves lost.
Replied: 26th Nov 2020 at 22:02
ON HEYES' BRIDGE
Under lamplight or by the silvery moon,
the march of a thousand frogs are under foot.
Flush faced you sit as still as stone,
and behind a canvas of green unfolds.
Your eyes I have met by stars and by morn,
and still I come back here for more.
How small you seem now,
here in my arms that cling to you close.
And yet so familiar your voice on the wind
that brought safely in this soul from the storm.
Tell me, why so long away from my arms?
Why these years of want and search?
For only over a hill you slept,
as the nights passed the seasons long.
And I in turn at this passing hour,
wait to right that eternal wrong...
Replied: 28th Nov 2020 at 07:26
Snot a patch on broady,s poem
Replied: 28th Nov 2020 at 08:30
Why is all this drivel not on HOBBIES?
Come on Admin I know you exchange TV's but do your job!!!!
Replied: 28th Nov 2020 at 10:02
BIG BILL AND THE PITMON'S LAMENT
Poor Pit mon crying in his ale,
seein' his poor team try and fail.
Beaten at the end by a sheer fluke...
Turn Sky on owd lad and have another look.
Saints are the champs from o'r Billinge Lump:
Give Big Bill a prod from me...
No, hang on,
gey him a thump...
Replied: 28th Nov 2020 at 11:19
Last edited by jarvo: 28th Nov 2020 at 11:20:10
Replied: 28th Nov 2020 at 11:21
The first Christmas,
is always the hardest,
so they say...
It may snow-
and the drifts
will block your door.
as it begins to fall,
that will not matter,
This first Christmas
I remember the night we first met.
As the snow blankets the winter ground,
how can I
Replied: 9th Dec 2020 at 07:53
Last edited by jarvo: 9th Dec 2020 at 15:50:11
I will walk it home,
and along the way
I'll stare at the stars:
Jupiter, like some distant young moon,
and Saturn with Mars.
I'll go before the dawn breaks
on this long solstice night,
and I'll text you when she appears,
yellow and bright.
This ancient Christmas star-
older than Anne Boleyn-
bringing home the straying shepherds,
and the unwise men-
who are guided by this lantern
over the frosted hard earth, darkening.
A beacon in the sky, spreading the news
of the second coming?.
Rising again now, after eight hundred years gone.
Above this old dirt track, that I walk upon...
Replied: 9th Dec 2020 at 15:14
Give us a break jarvo it's bad enough pubs being shut
Replied: 9th Dec 2020 at 19:58
Replied: 9th Dec 2020 at 20:51
BILL AND THE BROADSWORD
Bill dodged the broadsword,
his big feet sparking
in the dark.
When it got light,
the harbourman said:
Never seen anything like it in Quebec...
I asked him for his fishing license,
and he replied
What the heck..?.
He thrust his broadsword at me
as if to cause me pain,
so I back-heeled it and thumped him again...
He went in the briny
and made such a splash...
So I went whom immediately, for some potato hash...
And the moral of this story,
as if not plain enough:
Never ever get lippy,
if you're nowhere near that tough...
Replied: 10th Dec 2020 at 07:25
Ignore them Jarvo
Replied: 10th Dec 2020 at 09:56
Take me now Lord
Replied: 10th Dec 2020 at 14:35
I like reading his poems as he's like me, a decent poster.
Replied: 10th Dec 2020 at 14:43
Lovely bit of prose Jarvo but why the obsession with Quebec? To drive from my home to there is 2386 miles. Pemberton is almost as near. I see your puppy dog appreciates your poetry. Must be very inspiring to have the approval of the dumbest poster on here.
Replied: 10th Dec 2020 at 20:35
Bill: I always associate it with Canada. Probably from childhood days.
No offence with the (prose) poem.
BB is a decent gent, honest.
Take care and' happy holidays'...as they don't say in Pem.
Replied: 11th Dec 2020 at 08:37
No offence taken. As a matter of fact “ I was never in Quebec” Don’t think I ever will be. Don’t like all this French carry on. Merry Christmas to you and your family.
PS We are definitely not a Happy Holidays household nor a blue Christmas Tree. Red and green predominant colours.
Replied: 11th Dec 2020 at 14:14
THERE IS A FROST TONIGHT
There is a frost tonight, out on the moors.
Such folly to even venture alone,
and the ones that may linger forth, are those
that wander or lose the sacred way home.
Tis easy to feel the frost on your glove;
and, after the lantern is unlit', feel
the coldness and frigility of love.
The heart it may freeze, but is slow to heal;
and the icicles drip blood on the frost.
No moon now, but the dark and the night owl-
quick to swoop on the weak and the ones lost.
Their graves dug under stars with claw and trowel.
Brave lovers of night in a sea of dark.
Out on the powdered frost their footsteps walk.
Replied: 11th Dec 2020 at 18:53
Last edited by jarvo: 11th Dec 2020 at 22:38:25
Replied: 11th Dec 2020 at 21:29
Agree, I do like his poems
Replied: 12th Dec 2020 at 11:01
Roses are reddish,
Violets are blueish,
If it wasn’t for Christmas,
We’d all be Jewish !
Replied: 12th Dec 2020 at 11:22
and the hurt and emptiness of fifty years past,
was finally cast
to the history
Bury it in the night
along with the wreckage
of what has gone before.
The roads are empty tonight-
and we are safe here,
out in the sticks.
There is nothing,
nothing more to fear...
And nothing, nothing more
Replied: 13th Dec 2020 at 10:57
Last edited by jarvo: 13th Dec 2020 at 12:57:16
STAR OF BETHLEHEM
Sister, let me take you to the gate,
the years passed between us
are lived again under this
And we have missed nothing,
nothing at all.
You half stumble,
and I catch you before you fall.
For a moment,
our memories are there to touch;
and we are children
the blackest of nights,
Replied: 21st Dec 2020 at 07:39
Replied: 21st Dec 2020 at 10:36
THE FROG PRINCE
And so the years passed by, and the Frog Prince,
now older, still clung to the golden ball.
He dreamt a lot; but still, was unconvinced.
Would she ever come back? Or not at all?
The ball, it lay warm, in his gentle hand:
smooth to touch - and inside a heart did beat.
Then, one early spring day, a note did land,
delivered by hand and by nimble feet.
He cast the ball forth; the curse was broken.
The ball hit a wall, built high by his love,
and as it broke, these sweet words were spoken:
'Kiss me now, and look to heaven above....'
There, two hearts were linked by a golden chain...
And a Prince and Princess, were happy again...
Wishing you all a very happy and safe Christmas, and a prosperous and healthy new year.
Replied: 24th Dec 2020 at 06:37
Last edited by jarvo: 24th Dec 2020 at 10:56:23
Merry, and safe Christmas, jarvo, and all the very best for the new year.
Keep the good work up in 2021.
Replied: 24th Dec 2020 at 11:30
It was nearly dark
when we heard the news:
it filtered through on the light programme,
just as the afternoon was coming to an end.
On Poole Street,
they were pulling the shutters down-
the ones that cast
shadows on to the pavements,
and the cobbled road
that led down to the fourteen meadows.
The meadows was a softer place then,
and you could see as far as Rose Hill.
We would go there in the early morning,
and watch the river flowing
towards the Honeysuckle;
but it was darker there below the street.
It was getting on for Christmas
when the breakthrough was announced.
I imagined Churchill, almost gloating,
his gambles at last paying off.
His debt? An army of young men from down under,
dead now, but their ghosts making their way
up the Suez canal,
and across the sands to the desert.
Some of them,
these wandering lost ghosts, had found solace,
and made their way to the fourteen meadows.
They would appear,
as spectres breathing in the
Poolstock air, somewhere...
We were kids then, just glad of the good news-
waving our Union Jacks in the air.
Replied: 25th Dec 2020 at 18:19
Last edited by jarvo: 25th Dec 2020 at 21:56:17
IN THE HARDY MIST
I hear the thrush as you did-
at the turn of the last century.
It was the one before the last,
when you leant on that darkling gate.
If I could wait, another hundred years,
that song would still give me hope-
like it did for you alone,
as the winter sun was dying and you made your way home.
Jarvo, 31st December 2020
For Thomas Hardy.
Replied: 31st Dec 2020 at 16:50
THE NUTTING GIRL
Under the leafy oak
by the blue stream,
he remembered a summer never felt before,
and never since seen...
And he would still remember her
as the years would unfurl...
His splendour in the grass
with the nutting girl.
Replied: 9th Jan 2021 at 21:42
1954 - 1968
sitting on the big hill calling for my mother
the echo of my voice on the corner of the
late summer with the orange drawn curtains
in the dining room and my dad quiet at the little table
remembering the cemetery with the shuffling of feet and the mound of sand
stopping near the road under the trees
the sun going down at the top of the road
my mother baking in the small kitchen and putting apple pie
out on the window ledge
the smell of chocolate cake and beef and carrots
the plates being laid on the small round
going to school down the avenue my mother's red coat
at home time
my sister Pamela reading to my class sitting in the big
going home with my sisters up the hill in the winter dark
Christmas and the paper lantern low lights on the trees
in the houses the trees lit up in front rooms and hallways
running ahead to sit under the scented green tree and making
toast by the fire - remembering the silence of solitude for the first time
hoping no one will come
the cold house on Christmas morning - my mother making
pork sausage in the kitchen and singing Mary's Boy Child
going to Nana's big house in the dark and smelling her violet scent
in the long hall - auntie Joyce waiting in the front parlour by the big fire
the sandwiches on the blue flowered plates and pink and yellow cakes
on the metal stand
going home in the dark and walking up the cold street
scared of the dark canal going under the road by the Honeysuckle
Dad carrying me on his shoulders going up Rose Hill
going home - going to bed and mum telling us to shush
at the bottom of the
snow falling on boxing day and eating Cadbury's chocolate flake after
the smell of tangerines and oranges - the red apples being saved in the
corner of the front room
lying in the downstairs bed - the fire putting shadows on the midnight wall
the long night and wanting morning to come - the light coming through
the front room curtains
Dr Coffey smiling sitting on the bed his heavy overcoat damp with rain
having to take the large tablets and wanting to choke
not being able to get out of bed and sleeping in the afternoon
an open window and the sound of voices - the smell of spring coming
through into the warm room
going back to school and being put next to red haired Vicky Thomas
her desk full of ribbons and white linen - everyone writing me a letter
reading each one and finding out that everyone wants to be my
not being there on the last day to say goodbye
entering the polished hall with all the new boys in a line by the stage
the smell of leather and new polish as you walk down the corridor
Miss Todd shouting for us to stay in line - new books and pencils
painting my first self portrait and Mr Heaton giving me encouragement
waiting at the corner door as we walk in one by one
in the garden by the warm greenhouse - the beetroots being cut and
put into newspaper
the rise of spring and discovering a linnet's nest in the hedgerow
counting the eggs each new day scared that a cat may steal them in the
winning the cross country and going the extra mile to win the race
on the cricket field and wearing stickers with girls' names on them
keeping mine secret under my lapel
the long warm summer coming on slowly and seeing her under the lamp
in the late evening
waiting for her to appear in the morning - fresh faced wearing white lace
not wanting her to go out for the day with her mum and dad
seeing her at the ambulance station coming up the stairs
passing in the late evening and getting a cheeky smile - my heart beating
like a drum
saying goodnight to her in my night prayers sitting by the night window
wishing she was coming for tea but not asking my mother if she could
watching the summer ebb away as autumn came to take her
making my bedroom lamp and varnishing the smooth planed wood
going home for my dinner and hearing Plastic Penny on the wireless
not seeing her for a week then seeing her three times in one day
on Christmas Eve watching from my bedroom window
my first love walking down the street but not calling out her
the Beatles on television at evening time and for once not being
the sound of the number one songs playing on the Top of the Pops TV
waking and missing my first love as the morning sun floods my
For Adrian and Polly
The poem is in free verse and is deliberately not fully punctuated.
1954-1968 is the first part.
The idea came from the late Adrian Henri and his book Autobiography published in 1971.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 00:46
Last edited by jarvo: 13th Jan 2021 at 01:29:20
I am sure your good buddy Walshy will find this riveting ( even though most of the words will be too big for his limited vocabulary, I have no opinion as I have far better things to do with my time than wade through this lot.
PS You need to get a life.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 04:59
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 08:52
Why on earth would you think anyone would be interested in this odyssey of a sickly lad that grew into an even sicklier fake adult that lives in a world of schmaltz? Good god!
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 10:45
Steady on, old chap...The females are watching this...
But they certainly aint watching you.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 10:53
Females? Oh yes your other obsession in later life.
BTW. It's the lookers that watch me not the ones who've been around the block more times than a kid on its new Christmas bike that you seem go for.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 11:18
The nutting girl .
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 13:31
Great autobiography Jarvo. Excellent... and well considered free verse. I'm a big fan of Adrian Henri too.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 13:40
Cheers, Grimmy and JR.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 14:00
Remembering the white snow - fallen heavy in the night and the path up to where the papers were delivered
going up to the Green and seeing her house from the back alley
seeing her house every morning - every morning every Friday afternoon
hearing the love songs we never shared - over the bridge and going to
school in the dark - taking the Financial Times to Bruce Taylor and Dougie Bland
seeing Venus at dusk and not seeing her for half a year - another girl
wanting me down on the cricket field - drinking coffee at Jimmy's house
when his mum and dad were at work
victory again through the gate and down the private road leaving them
all in my wake
on the train to Wolverhampton packed with Liverpool fans listening to their bragging but thinking of her somewhere at home - somewhere
the end coming slowly as the days pass - Miss Todd leaving a massive void when she left
the last day coming over the fallow field and stopping to look
in Boystown and eating toast from the cardboard box - Sir Norman sitting with an hangover in the tiny office
autumn on Parsons Walk - catching the bus home and meeting Philip
for the first time on the top deck
leaves falling like my memories though not fading - and pangs at evening
the Commercial public house and steak pie and pickled onions with a half of red bitter - too young to be drinking beer
getting the flu in-between Christmas and the new year - lying in bed in the dark
seeing her buying Please Don't Go by Donald Peers in the musty record
wanting to speak but not brave enough
playing my first records in my tiny box room bedroom
feeling the heavy summer draw closer to its ending - something on my mind - something I have no control over
in Jean Morris's shop listening to gossip and talk
hearing the news and feeling my heart fracture - not wanting to go back after dinner
wondering wondering - going with Tim to watch Emerson Lake and Palmer - our Pam selling programmes with Sandra
on Crantock beach - the blue Atlantic at my feet - thirsty coming back to the tent - drinking outside the Old Albion
passing Dawlish and not sleeping on the overnight train
getting typsy on Sandeman's Port - outside the Clarence on Christmas Eve
first hearing Tony Hooper and getting drunk in the Floral Hall
missing the last train home and waking in a railway carriage at dawn
wondering what she is doing and where she may be - remembering
thinking it should have been her walking past the midnight cafe with
seeing Venus again at dusk - the night blue like a
tasting beer on the summer solstice - missing the coach to meet the Blackburn girls and going back home early
walking on Douglas promenade with the sun at my back - disorientated
hearing the news and seeing Summerland burn - wanting to go and
going over the winter road in Phil's mini - the night pulling us back to
Oswaldtwhistle - Jupiter in the night sky - Jupiter pulling us back
taking time to say goodbye - her spirit coming back as spring rises over
winter - another winter of discontent
Dad making tea when I'm on short time - reading James Herbert at night
Linda giving me the glad eye and breaking all the rules - playing Yes It Is
thinking of what might have been but wasn't
getting the keys to the old house - the little kitchen at the back
not remembering how I got home after drinking all day with Johnnie
going to Alan Smith's party on boxing night on my own
on my own and not thinking about who I was supposed to be thinking of
not remembering bringing in the new year
going to the old house the night before - not wanting to go where I had to go
the day dawning and the cherry blossom at the bottom of the lane
the cherry blossom scattered in the street the day after -
the day after the day
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 21:51
Last edited by jarvo: 13th Jan 2021 at 21:59:41
Were you ever in Quebec? This should be on hobbies.
Replied: 13th Jan 2021 at 22:02
My lockdown poem, The Vixen And The Virus Moon, is included in the book, The Language Of Lockdown.
This is now available and can be ordered on Amazon.
Replied: 14th Jan 2021 at 08:39
Last edited by jarvo: 14th Jan 2021 at 08:40:21
Boredy if you don't like it, then simply don't read it.
Replied: 14th Jan 2021 at 11:48
Can't wait for the juicy bits, the packing of bags, the tears and slamming of doors and all that follows. I recon all that will be omitted though, still there is enough fantasy and lies in the above for the gullible, autobiography...I think not! is a self written account of the life of oneself, warts and all...let's see.
Replied: 15th Jan 2021 at 16:23
My other 'stuff' can be found in Language Of Lockdown available now on Amazon.
Eat your 'swinging brick' out, Tex Tucker...
Replied: 15th Jan 2021 at 23:25
Last edited by jarvo: 16th Jan 2021 at 00:16:59
(Comment removed because it broke the rules)
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 10:02
don't tell me you no them as well.
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 10:32
"don't tell me you no them as well."
Do you mean don't tell me you KNOW them as well.
Capitals to start a sentence also.
I know lots of people me.
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 10:42
so you keep saying
nasty mac use to say the same
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 10:45
Did he. Well all I can say is people do know lots of other people because they get out and about during their lives and meet them and make friends. It would seem you you stayed home for many years looking on WW day after day and posting rubbish as well as spoiling others pleasure, that maybe the reason you are friendless and a vindictive person. WW is your life, you have nothing to contribute in life or on here only lies and using another persons account. Sad really.
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 10:57
another thread you've ruined with your vendetta against anyone who stands up to you, pathetic
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 11:03
When did this standing up to me happen?
Replied: 16th Jan 2021 at 11:10
LOVE IS DRIPPING
Love is dripping:
from her bed by the door.
in the ward where
the dreamers go.
her delicate hands
are still as smooth
still as sharp
that haunt or taunt
like the full moon.
while we're apart.
It is my love,
that is dripping,
Replied: 19th Jan 2021 at 19:40
Nice to see you carrying on, jarvo, don't let them spoil this thread.
Replied: 23rd Jan 2021 at 12:31
Our first night.
The rain is falling outside:
gentle on the
We have talked ourselves
The years in between,
the ones when all hope was
gone, have moved
The hidden moon gives us
his blessing as the rain falls.
It soothes us as we slumber.
Washing away our yesterday.
Replied: 23rd Jan 2021 at 23:28