Larkin 25 - I Came Back to You in September
By Ray Moody
I came back to you in September
you were quiet then
like you used to be
when men were men
and I was just a child
When the smell of the fish docks
mingled well with the stench of the slaughter from the cattle market
and an early morning crescendo of hooters
And you had to go
When your father
and my father
crowded down on the docks
hoping to catch the foreman's looks
and from where so many fathers
were turned away
yet unbitter men
Returning home like so often you did
to pray and dream of better days than these
and you hoped that things would change
but for you
that they never would.
And then the war came
and I was sent away to fight for my country
the one which had kept us all alive on a few pence a week
and I left behind the smell of the fish docks
the reek of the slaughter
to earn my place in that world
And one day I returned
fell in love and made love
amongst the ruined ashes of what once was
of what could never be again
I lay planning out my life while the bombs fell
And I sat amidst the solitude of that old terraced house
frightened to death by that silence
as ceaseless clocks
ticked slowly away
and I looked at your face
and tried so hard not to see my own
And I returned to that war
that cruel bloody war
fighting one inside me far greater than that one could ever have been
but that war ends
and I returned to that war
your bloody war
the one you pretended you never saw
And the world returned to the smell of the fish docks
the reek of the slaughter
to that broken down world
full of broken down lives
grey faced men
faceless, shapeless wives
And long before faces could ever begin to smile
quietly giving up on your life
like you did so many years before
and I died
as they laid you in an already forgotten part of that world
and I could linger there no longer
and left behind the smell of the fish docks
the reek of that slaughter
And I came back to you in September
back to stare at a world which once was
and yet could never be again
Only a few old buildings remained
standing empty and silent
like when the bombs came
and I looked into that face
and tried so desperately not to see my own
And I stood aloof to a world which could no longer reach me
yet still I trembled
lest some derelict echo from the past drew me back into that world
that old cruel world
where all men ever wanted to be was men
And yet how I loved you in September
as time once more stood still
how I loved that stillness
as I returned to where childish laughter once filled empty spaces
places where I had so long ago ceased to dream
Amidst the dark dancing shadows
where love becomes so physical
that the poet's dreams are so finally shattered
And on the cracked broken pavements where the bombs fell
where you fell
where we all fell
so many years before
And silent leaves fall on your grave
on my grave
like falling tears
for so many wasted years
I came back to your in September
you were quiet then
like you used to be
when men were men and I was just a child.
The cold earth released Lennon
Jesus removed his bullets and
compared their wounds, measured
cadences of earthly and heavenly
sounds. John busked on heaven's
streets, Jesus wandered earthly
grounds. Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Coulda Woulda Shoulda By Brian Cotton
This life of ours there is only one
A blink of the eye and then its gone
They said I coulda been a contender for the prize
A great big house and fancy car,
excellent prospects could go far.
Trophy wife hanging off my arm,
fancy restaurants drinking pink champagne, Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Life (Inspired by Money) By Bronwyn Ellis
Seldom is it, that life visits me:
'Why do you let me lie here wastefully?'
I am far from what you could have produced,
I am far from just a bad excuse.
So I look at others, what they do with theirs,
They bumble along with personal affairs,
Making a mess of the time they are given,
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Immediate Incapacitation By Robert Swan
What the hell can that be?
Other than more
A special new benefit?
That doesn't sound right.
Lets re-open the case-notes
just for tonight.
Poetry Larkin 25 - Paris Versus Hull By Catherine Scott
I visited Paris recently
There was lots to do and lots to see
Like the Arc de Triumph and the Eiffel Tower
Where I queued up for over an hour
Just for the opportunity to scare myself witless
And pay over the odds - it was just ridiculous
Then there's the museums including The Louvre
Fighting my way through was quite a manoeuvre
Poetry Larkin 25 - As I Come Down By Pamela Scobie
As I come down from Sewerby,
Higher than spire or tower or tree
Before me hangs the sea,
Sparkling like laundry on a line
Fresh-washed in sunshine.
And all the daffodils stare back at me
With meercat curiosity,
A mad old biddy skipping by.
Poetry Larkin 25 - Poetry or Prose By John Fewings
There's a very fine distinction
Between poetry and prose:
It's such a fine dividing line
And no-one really knows.
You once could tell the difference
'Cos poetry would rhyme
But poets just don't bother now;
They haven't got the time.
Poetry Larkin 25 - Drifting By Malcolm Wilson Bucknall
Shadows of the night are drifting
Across the shores way out to sea
Sedated passions of the long day
Resting now contentedly
Gentle ripples skim the waters
Burnished by the pale moonlight
Echoed words are softly whispered Read more...
Poetry - Future's End By Bernard Franklin
To the people of the past,
Mother nature's had a breakdown
our radioactive oceans smell,
so the world that we've inherited
is a form of living hell.
There's no ozone layer up there
to protect our precious skin,
and the pollution in our water
Poetry - To Conrad's Horror By Steve Rudd
The ocean is so blue as to be meaningful.
It's only in the dead of night, right
at the end of the pier
where dreams can be analysed
and swept aside
into the dark, cold grave
from which they first came. Read more...
Poetry - Rhubarb Rhubarb By Catherine Scott
Doug and Blair's programme is my Sunday treat
Their advice and humour would be hard to beat
Blair tries hard, he's developed the knack
Of skilfully keeping Doug on track
Doug offers guidance which is easy to follow
I say, 'I'll remember that and do it tomorrow'
He really is an inspiration
Poetry Larkin 25 - Men With Books By Holly Roach
I sat and studied your words.
Was told what you meant
by a stranger to you
and I took it as proof
that the saying was true
about the pen above the sword,
and men with books will be adored Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Once Bitten, Twice You Die! By Bronwyn Ellis
It'll be fine,
He said with drink in hand,
As his silent mousy lover,
Looked helpless at her man,
And as he contemplated where to sip another beer,
His misses wondered if tomorrow she would still be here. Read more...
Poetry Bring It On! By Mike Watts
I cracked open
Sent them sliding
Across the pan
Then I began to butter
Some bread cakes
To the left of me
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Pigeon By Terry Ireland
I am one of the pigeons that live on wilberforce's head
which in pigeon meritocracy puts me near the top
between those on the city and guildhalls
and those on the better type of shop.
I got this position by birthright
we've been here since 19 and 10
in spite of attempts to remove us
Poetry - Somewhere In Between By Jody McKenna
In the darkness of the room
I feel the melancholy gloom.
I'm just a loner in a tomb
Making a bold step on the moon
But no-one gets me.
Whereas, the light beneath the sun
That makes the rest of us become
The mundane workers on a run
Poetry Larkin 25 - Scatter Me (for TFG) By Pamela Scobie
Oh, scatter me over the umber Humber
Under a hurrying sky,
On a dark day in December
Or a turbulent July.
For longer than I can remember
I've been preparing to die.
I want to go back to wherever it was
I came from in 'forty-nine.
Poetry Unblinking Moon By John Horsley
There are tears in the eyes of the man in the moon
For he fears he may lose his loved one soon -
She is Earth, his only friend in space,
And for millions of years he has looked on her face.
How plain and ordinary he feels
As round Earth's horizons the sunrise steals,
And floods his beloved in dazzling light Read more...