All posts by sadhj^7

‘Catch’

‘Catch’ A trip, a sip Hazed and crazed Bright misty rings – glassy, glazed The shadow of her shirks my trail She’s been, she’s seen The stars. To Venus, north, the Old Port beats Out milky waves, wood clusters sweet. While ghostly bottles chink in time She travels further, hunted eyes Seek fragile pleasures etched…

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Bryter Layter, Queen of Hearts

Bryter Layter, Queen of Hearts Hush, let’s watch her restless slumber. Never ending. Waiting game. Ripple river rolling freely, she sleeps beneath your bed. Lily locks drawn over chalk bones, sunken cheeks and cupids bow. Cutting into lands with precious cargo, the mouth of Annan opens wide. She carries them on a wave of promise.…

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Now we rise And we are everywhere

Now we rise And we are everywhere Saturday 30 October, 1971 Sailing downstairs to the Northern Line, I get off at Gloucester Road. It might as well be Gretna Green, a stopping off point, far away. And I could be anyone, eloping with guitar in hand, to make a record. John said the studio was…

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A Pack of Black Dogs

A Pack of Black Dogs A slow slide into melancholy boy-child. Brings a minor key close to a brief blue-note life. Via diminuendo, decrescendo, Largo, lento, grave Till snuffed out in a sudden cesura. May all the malevolent curses since the beginning of the world, to this hour, light upon this Pack of black dogs.…

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Moon Garden

There are pinks in the garden, and phlox. Flowers that flower at night – moonflowers with their open throats – and those that are strongly scented by night, honeysuckle, nicotiana. It’s what he asked for, the only thing he asked for, to be buried in such a garden. He wanted people to commune with him…

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One of These Things First

After nearly thirty years of living and working abroad, Adam had returned to England the previous month. Now in his fifties he had journeyed across Europe to London, then to Newcastle where he had rented a flat for 6 months while he considered his future. Then just the previous week he had vowed to return…

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The Haltwhistle Triptych

The Haltwhistle Triptych 1 – Roman legionary, 126 AD I march and come to muddy hillsides in the lee of wintry blasts. Civis Romanus sum, the motto that faces me from first day till last. Which will you take now – flip coins, Emperors’ faces – stay here or heads home? Comforts like hot water…

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The Tattooed Giant of Bardon Mill

The Tattooed Giant of Bardon Mill It was over even before it began. “Did you see?” The voice was deep enough to shake the pavement. Lewis gaped at the tattooed giant, naked from the waist up in the biting wind, all flour bag belly in a roadside chair. The ink tracks that ran beneath his…

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Three Hours

Three hours from sunrise A dairy maid flies Hoping to keep The tears from her eyes Down to the crossing In search of her lover In search of a man Under a northern sky, a young dairy maid of Haydon Bridge tended cattle right up to the ridge. She was kif – good, pretty and…

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Saturday Sun

Sunday rain. I feel the click of a traintrack switch undercarriage as the train flees on and scritch scratch out the letters of my destination on the white in front of me. H E X H A M. Short sharp ink strokes. A network of straight lines: letters fit for a timetable with their A…

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