Wednesday, August 15, 2007

A Poetic Interlude

It’s been a long while since I’ve posted any poetry on this blog but blog buddy Janete has reminded me that actually, getting poetry “out there” into the big wide world is a good thing and to be encouraged.

So, to change the pace somewhat, here is a small offering from my extensive back catalogue of angst and metaphor.


Sheffield, December 2003

In hoar wind trees lag dirty:
white filings pinch northward as iron
but grow grey and blunt
in the furnace slump of the factories.

The air sounds detonated –
the lung aftershock pressing down, pursed
and cursive, a spent
cartridge. The streets are baptized in it and

limed with the sign of the cross.
Trams belch black looking shoppers like grapeshot
but none hit their mark.
Fag ends blow red grit across department store windows,

the displays lost behind
a welding shower of tracer bullets.
The pavements bolt beneath
the rapid cannon fire of pork shops and pound shops

and job shops.

Christmas growls and sprints once from the rubble
to be dourly gunned down by the masses.

8 comments:

The Sagittarian said...

Poetry indeed! I might even get brave enough to add some of my own antipodean angst. (thanks for the link too by the way!)

Steve said...

The link was a pleasure. As for the poetry - go for it!

MOTHER OF MANY said...

Really good, I love poetry.
It takes me a few readings to grasp the full meaning of poems(I'm a bit slow)but I really enjoyed this one.

The Sagittarian said...

Spiders are fast
Spiders are creepy
Do they slow down
When they are sleepy?
Spiders lurk
They make me scream
If they sleep,
Do you think they dream?

Okay, maybe a silly start...am in a frivolous mood! Blame the Cointreau twins (oops, had 2).

Rol Hirst said...

You have a pretty grim view of Sheffield... god knows what you'd make of Bradford!

Steve said...

Thanks Ally - much appreciated!

The Sagittarian - the Cointreau twins sound like my kind of people; I might have to engineer an introduction of my own very soon!

Rol, I must admit it was more a case of a grim Christmas (or rather a grim me) than a grim Sheffield. My folks live there and out of interest absolutely rate Bradford as one of the most beautiful cities they've ever been to... Myself: I've yet to give the giddy lights of Bradford a go.

Rol Hirst said...

Not to question the sanity of another's parents, but when did they last visit?

1887?

Steve said...

Rol, I agree - there's no accounting for taste. They also support Sheffield Wednesday football club. Questioning their sanity is something I do all the time!