Poetry - The Maritime Museum, Hull By Maolsheachlann O' Ceallaigh.
The recorded cry of some dead whale resounds
Over and over again. Rusted harpoons
Hang from the walls. On winter afternoons
Descendants of past sailors make the rounds
And mouth the names: Diana, Truelove, Swan.
Just syllables now. But children must have thrilled
To hear them, once.
Poetry - THE PRICE WE PAY By Del Abe Jones.
...We're going to stay the course, of course!...
That's what our Pres has always said
We're three years into this crazy War
With nearly twenty-four hundred Dead.
Seventeen thousand wounded folks
At least, that's the official count
With estimates of forty-some thousandRead more...
Poetry - We Are All Cartoons Now By Joe Hakim
Setting up a trap
the immaculate disappointment
capped off with regret,
things we could have
Poetry - Saint Patrick's Day By Del Abe Jones.
The Patron Saint of Ireland
Died in the Fifth Century
On the seventeenth of March
Is that anniversary.
That day is during Lent
When the Irish celebrate
With dance and drink and feast
Poetry - I Remember It Well By Jon Stewart
I met her in Retro
No, it was in Mint I said I was loaded
You said you were skint! Ah yeah...I remember it well.
Said she was from Bransholme
Poetry - Politics On The Dance-floor By Patrick Henry
Cuba's dangerous crocodile-shape looms long and slim
As a laid girl, a good cigar, or Castro's red regime.
A pianist plays Blues out of his back-street door:
An instrument from Chicago that'll send no more;
Nor glitzy Cadillac cabs that take you for a ride
For five bucks anywhere and girls
Poetry - A Popular Theme By Jane Foster
For Michael Cassar 1979 - 2000 A popular theme - the good die young,
With lips unparted, praise unsung,
The ode, the book, the song, the rhyme,
The tale of the young man cut down in his prime,
The turn of the screw, the whizz of the wheel,
The young man dead on a fiver deal.
Poetry - Picking Up Sluts In Retro By Joe Hakim
Me and me mates
were in Retro
and we met these
and we fucked 'em
Poetry - Snowball By Jane Foster
One winter's night, we found a snowball
Nestling in someone's front garden.
A foot high it was. We decided
To steal it, and began to push.
It didn't occur to us that it would gather snow,
And grow, and prove insurmountable.
Poetry - Song of Hopeless Love By Maurice Fairfield
I've got a girl who's mighty sweet
Fellows fall down at her feet
Still she treats me like a skunk
She only loves me when she's drunk.
When I call her on the phone
(This girl I'd love to call my own)
April August June October
Poetry - All The King's Men By John Winn
It's up to you the public don't decide
I'm ready when you're ready and that's no lie
I'm waiting for this fairy tale to break
Once upon a time has never been so late
It's a story worth 6 pence
Not really 8 or 10
Poetry - Chasing The Current By Stacie Brady
I'm longing for nothing, nobody, nowhere
They're probably waiting but I couldn't care
There's nothing exciting to brighten my days
I guess I'm just set in my old empty ways
I'm hoping for hopes of something to do
I'm dreaming of dreams that will never come true
I guess I'm just lost in a place that I know
Poetry - Latenight stanzas of Doggerel By Chu Nin
There where two taxi driver types
Sandpaper cheeks they bore
Stood akimbo unto a sooty subway staircase
There walked past a whore
Twas their sister they swore
She span in the dark drippingness
Poetry - Two Coppers In A Subaru By Joe Hakim
Two coppers in a Subaru
looking like Shaggy and Scooby-do
Winding down the window,
one of them asks:
'Where you goin' son,
Poetry - Sappho, Sophocles, Virgil By Lucy Arnold
Sit and wonder
Men all concerned
Not with practicality
but bestiality and the little sighs
the little sigh
of "I, I don't know"
Poetry - Talking In Circles By Joe Hakim
The broken spill that came out
could be viewed as a
the things that we
never ended up
Poetry - Ego Inoculation No 1 By Joe Hakim
Strip the year away and
throw it on the shit heap of memory,
take a step back from the
cult of your own personality.
Look at you now -
see how your ego has grown,
Poetry - Them And Us By Del Abe Jones.
Now they want to Google us
Where will all this snooping end?
Remember stories of Big Brother?
Well, he's lurking 'round the bend.
They tap our phones when they want
Though they could work within the law
Poetry - Rosa Lee Parks By Patrick Henry
Rosa Lee Parks, calm Rosa Lee,
Cotton seamstress of Montgomery,
Caught the wrong bus at the right time to be
Driven into race history.
Mr White Guy craved her bus seat place,
But she sat tight on her black ass.
Poetry - Chavalanche by Lee Cassanell
R'Kid and me went round for tea
At Nannas house
She don't get out
Except to bet on horses
Me Grandad smokes a thousand cigs
And sucks the juice from filter tips
He's eighty nine
Poetry - Someone Else's Songs By Michelle Dee
The kids are all popping pills,
turning mountains in to mole hills.
For a while they smile,
high on a trip through the night
keep going until light.
Sucking up coke
with a blood stained note. So...
Poetry - Hulling It By Nicholas Long
I love Hull, one letter from Hell.
Hell-hole Hull, the bottom of the boat, arse- end of England.
When you visit, you scrape the bottom.
I love saying the word Hull. Out loud.
It has as much resonance as a tin bath.
Not barth, the southern way.
It makes me smile to say its name.
Poetry - Just One More Coalminers Daughter By Del Abe Jones.
Another Coalminer's Daughter (and Son)
Has Heart and Soul beneath the Ground
With Tears and Hopes and Prayers
That their lost Daddies will be Found.
Hoping for some great Miracle
Not only Found, but Safe and Well
Poetry - City Sky By Daphne Liver
Star sky tastes so blue cake good
Such a sweetmeat backdrop
Against charnel decay
And ominous concrete blocks.
Sky scrapers are aptly named
Tearing chunks out of it,
Poetry - Files and Patience By Sue Hardy
"The system has failed serves but a few"
Labelled as 'loss'.
Go through the motions end up as dross.
Dotted and Teed,