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Wordstore

I’m going to have a shufti on eBay

because my adverbs have, slowly, run dry.

And the ‘Words’ page in Exchange and Mart,

as the conjunctions, there, are worth a try!

 

I might nip along to Poundland today,

to hear what the manager has to say,

and pick up a neologism or two,

a gaudy bauble or a sparkling trinket,

nothing too daring, just something new.

A word which a pa...

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What Nana would have said.

Nana was small, but forthright.

You were never in any doubt about

What that pocket battleship thought!

She liked to keep the purse strings tight

And the Cost of Living was the battle she fought…

 

Two pounds fifty for a sausage roll.

What would Nana have had to say?

“Don’t try and take me for a fool!

Come again, I wasn’t born yesterday!

When is this madness going to s...

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Roadworks Rap

At the drop of a bureaucratic hat,

They sling their bossy signs around,

“All get into Single File!”

Yo! Slow the busy traffic down!

Man, this business gets me riled!

Until I reach a frustrated

STOP!

 

Roadworks rage, rage, rage,

Roadworks rage, rage, rage,

Roadworks rage!

 

We trundle through, twenty minutes late,

Shaking our heads as we cogitate,

"What’s ...

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The Christmas Card

‘Dear Aunty Mildred

We hope this Christmas card finds you well

We’re sorry we haven’t visited this year,

Same as last year, we’re as busy as hell!’

Signed with a flourish, and a dash of the pen.

 The subtext was open, but unwritten, not said,

‘We’ll send you this Christmas card

Just in case you’re not dead…’

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William's First Nativity

The camel was played by a lovely lad,

Who drew one’s eye and stole the show!

He found fascination with a donkey’s ears,

Jiggling them happily, up and down.

He just wouldn’t let them go!

It turned out that the donkey was kind,

And really didn't seem to mind!

 

The camel, in rhythm, danced a merry jig

To Christmas songs, around the infant king,

Holding his tune, in the ...

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Heptonstall School

In Heptonstall, a rare species of hardy bee,

Survives each Winter in these Arctic climes

In a hive of purposeful, joyful community.

Each chilly morning, they all happily swarm,

Hugging their coats tight, to keep themselves warm,

Cocooned against the biting Pennine blast!

 

Children bring their pollen to this Winter hive,

To make Learning Honey, sustaining and sweet,

At a...

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The Journeyman Joiner

Dad’s overalls were a faded shade of denim blue,

held together, over his shoulders, by a silver clasp.

He kept a rectangular pencil behind one ear

and a Player’s cigarette behind the other.

Frank would eat his sandwich at a workshop bench.

For a journeyman joiner, it was catch as catch can,

and he was proud to be a working man.

 

Frank’s tools were scattered across the shop

...

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The Chisel

I stood and watched my dad, entranced,

as he chiselled a hole into a table's leg.

The chisel was a wand in this strong man’s hand,

As he strove to make that table stand.

 

His hammer met the chisel’s head, precisely,

Time after time, and time after time again,

carving and slicing into the wood’s bright grain.

Until he brusquely brushed the shavings away,

Like a conjuror ...

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A Golf Lesson

Don’t hit your grandad with a golf club, William,

it might just hurt, and it isn’t very kind.

He shouldn’t have laid it down in the hall,

leaving it out there, for you to find,

and I know he says that he doesn’t mind,

but his blood makes a mess upon the wall

and it’s a ten hour wait for an ambulance call.

The symptoms of a mild concussion

are difficult to detect at all.

...

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History is Bunk

 

The past is forever being reinvented,

Edited, culled, amended, purged,

Would we recoil in absolute horror,

If something closer to the truth emerged?

Our tethered lives, our scatty brains,

The grubby compromises made from Day One

The fighting out of bombastic battles,

Until only our battered shells remain,

Fleeing home, through the driving rain.

 

Most days are be...

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J.G.Barwell's Radio Show

Thanks to Ruth O'Reilly and ALL FM in Manchester, J.G.Barwell (aka John Botterill) was able advertise his new poetry anthology, Released on Licence ( Poetic Licence) the proceeds of which are going towards the Teenage Cancer Trust.

Ruth is a brilliant presenter and we name-checked Writeoutloud, of course.  Here is the link, if you would like to have a listen:

https://open.spotify.com/episode...

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An Elegy from a Malton Graveyard

In New Malton, there is dignity in death,

When you have coughed and hacked your final breath.

A single bed to sleep in, on your own,

Horizontal, blameless, alone, in peace,

In regular, neat rows of fine-cut stone,

With plastic flowers placed at the head.

A dignity, denied to the living,

Is generously bestowed on the dead.

 

The fallen leaves obey clean symmetry

In thi...

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Rillington Motorbike Club

It was the era of Mods versus Rockers.

Scooters, Ben Sherman, and Parka coats,

Motorbikes, Levi’s, and slicked-back hair.

Pumped up teens, who thought they were hard,

Fighting in lumps on the promenade,

During sunny sixties bank holidays.

 

Rillington, my village, was solidly greaser,

Not a single scooter was ever seen.

We had a Motorbike Club of our very own,

Where l...

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Reunion

 

A Tuesday night in The Union Pub.

Willy, Gareth, Ian, George, and me,

Like members of an aging rock group,

Settling down, convivially, to discuss

Our imminent, sold out, comeback tour.

A manly hug as we reached the door,

And we felt a glow of friendship,

Like bathing in the summer sun.

We drank our Yorkshire bitter

And relived all the fun!

Refought all the battle...

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Early Learning

“One more jelly baby, grandad,

Then it’s over, final… finish.”

William swept his arms, flatly,

Across his infant chest

In a gesture of finality,

That I could believe in, 

And cherish.

 

I watched the sugar-coated treat,

Disappear before my very eyes,

He seems to swallow it, rather than eat.

 

Another day, another school run.

William, bedraggled with bag and c...

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Boy Racer

 

Some lad was doing ninety

in a forty mile an hour zone.

He passed me on a corner

In a car he clearly didn’t own!

What was the flipping hurry?

Was his stupid house on fire?

Had his brain been deprived, abruptly, 

Of a vital connecting piece of wire?

Or was he a founding member

Of a firm called ‘Morons for Hire?’

 

Some fool was doing ninety

In a speed restri...

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Meeting Juliet

Meeting Juliet

I first met this pretty poppet

on a sunny, Monday afternoon.

We were formally introduced,

though, to be fair, she was halfway

through quite an interesting snooze.

I was instantaneously besotted!

Three weeks old and she had learned so much!

 

Juliet nestled, affably, upon my shoulder,

listening, intently to nursery rhymes,

discovering meanings in stor...

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Poetic Licence Book Release

 

 

Hi all,

Sorry I have been quiet lately!  I have missed you all!

I have been putting the finishing touches to my first poetry anthology

called, 'Released on Licence (Poetic Licence)

It has been published on Amazon for £6.50 and proceeds, should there be any, 

will go to the Teenage Cancer Trust who supported my daughter ten years ago through her lymphoma.

I hope you ...

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Too soon to know?

It’s unfair to heighten expectations.

It’s too early to make a judgment call.

I am no real expert in physiognomy,

But, as I gaze down at your lovely face,

There is no shadow of a doubt at all,

Intelligence, friendship, beauty and love,  

all flow freely through your every vein.

 

So may you, with happiness, now proceed.

You have all the support you could ever need,

...

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Juliet

Born in London, as a new day dawns,

We wake in Prague to greet you,

New Zealand sees your beauty, too.

Majestic, infant Mercury,

Speeding, instantly, around the world,

Though your perfect tiny toes are curled!

 

We gaze at your loveliness from afar,

Full of awe and love and wonder,

At our brand new, dazzling Northern Star,

The brightest light which shines!

The cent...

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Helping Out

(Based on an Internet post I read last night.) 

 

In a cost of living crisis

We all have to take a stand. 

I took a tenner from my pocket

And rolled it around in my hand.

After a moment's reflection, 

I was hit by an obvious thought, 

So I drove off to a mansion, 

On the opposite side of town, 

 Popping that tenner though the letter box, 

 

It won't take long fo...

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A Tram Ride in Prague

Our tram car sets off upon a mighty jolt

And proceeds with haughty, indignant haste, 

Which seems to suggest there is no time to waste. 

The speed increases as we race down the hill,

We're holding on tight to the guardrails, still,

Before we slow down to an easier rhythm,

As we turn round a corner and start to climb,

Leaving tall buildings and  hotels behind.

 

More tram...

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The Final Blessing

All summer long the land was parched and dry.

The leaves were brittle, and we craved the rain.

Our grass was yellow, cracked and baked,

But the clouds were barren, the land still ached.

 

The drizzle began as it approached eleven,

Larger drops fell as the due hour called,

Ere glorious torrents descended from heaven,

Splashing down in life-restoring vigour.

Like the tears...

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Life as a golf lesson

 

 

 

We live our lives in an uncertain state.

Should we commit or hesitate?

If we waver at the top of our swing,

We go all floppy doppy

And miss the damn thing!

 

In life, as in golf, we have but one chance.

You can be a wallflower,

Or join in with the dance.

Let your jig be a riotous fling!

Propel that ball with a powerful swing!

 

Place your head...

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Her Word was her Bond.

 

 

Whether her life was short or long,

She pledged her service to the nation,

And the Queen was as good as her word.

 

All our lives she was always ‘The Queen!’

Intelligent, impartial and serene.

When she was needed, The Queen was there.

She even 'looked after' dear Paddington bear!

Remaining steadfast, loyal and true,

A rock upon which we could all depend,

...

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A Grand Day Out

We travelled the North Norfolk coastline,

To sample its famous sea air.

There were guillemots and sea gulls

Flying around, without a care!

We journeyed on to Cromer

For fish and chips upon the pier.

Should we stop by in West Runton?

To face the mammoth? Did we DARE?

We walked through sunny Sheringham

As the weather was set fair.

 

Holt!  Who goes there?

 

A d...

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Cloud Nine

Rising late this morning,

I missed Clouds One and Two.

They had flown off into the distance

To be ensconced into the blue.

Clouds Three and Four were, sadly, no more.

They collapsed in the ether, as I opened the door.

The Holy Trinity of Clouds: Five, Six and Seven,

Were suddenly spirited back up to heaven.

Cloud Eight was delicate and hard to define,

So, I decided to s...

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On Holiday in Sheringham

 

 

 

 

(With apologies to Dr Johnson)

 

Will I ever be sick of Sheringham?

Will I tire of the chugging, antique train?

Will I be overcome with a dark ennui,

When the pavements become speckled

With soft, gentle, summer rain?

 

Will I eventually weary of the rolling waves,

Of the gurgling foam, as it rides up the shore?

Will I say ‘no’ to ice cream wit...

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The Old Vicarage Garden

 

 

 

 

 

Sitting here sipping my coffee,

Gazing out at a sun-kissed lawn.

I drink it all in.  The cooing of doves,

A sparkling rill, the murmur of a breeze.

Intricate weavings of wooden webs,

Amongst the branches of magnificent trees.

Nature is still thrusting upwards and outwards

From this garden, designed two centuries ago,

By people who planned for, a...

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Not Long Ago

On the double seats in the Palace Cinema,

With a tense new girlfriend, out for a show.

Trying to make sense of ‘Enter the Dragon,’

Our sweaty hands became entwined.

Did she want me to kiss her?

I just didn’t know.

I carefully eased her head towards me,

And I shared her chewing gum,

For an hour or two!

Not long ago…

 

Time passed on and we didn’t go back,

Like ‘E...

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Back to School

The rain has started falling,

The nights are drawing back in.

Dreary uniforms adorn our shops,

A new school year is about to begin.

 

A bead of sweat runs down my brow,

I wake up early from a troubled sleep.

The beat of that drum is distant now,

But Back to School is still a trauma,

A river which runs so dark and deep.

In nightmares when, by chance I rove,

Around e...

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Living the Dream...

I can’t afford to service the Porsche!

I’ve cancelled our holiday to St Tropez!

I don’t have enough left to heat the pool!

And what will all our posh friends say,

When Jemima leaves her boarding school?

Her parents are too poor to pay!

 

From any rational point of view,

We’re living, now, a dream come true.

Our gratitude, though, is seldom expressed:

Old age pensions ...

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The Missing Piece

The last one of a thousand pieces,

Ridiculed and taunted me.

I could feel its jagged edges,

Poking out from my old settee. 

 

A Stanley knife was the answer.

I cut a neat slit across the back.

I soon stood in proud possession,

Of the missing piece I lacked.

 

It was the moment of completion,

Like the day we married, you and I,

Bringing joy and exhilaration!

Y...

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Sandcastles

Who will look at my photographs,

When my time on this earth is gone?

Who will shine my cups and medals,

When my final sun has shone?

 

A journey to the council tip,

Will neatly dispose of my stuff.

Records of the money I earned,

Which was never quite enough…

 

Life, flattened like a sandcastle,

Washed away by the incoming tide.

Some will have memories, but they ...

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Middle-Class Achievers

I’m a middle-class achiever,

It’s Waitrose, not Aldi, for me.

I am all the things I have ever despised,

The epitome of petit bourgeoisie.

I have a comfortable life,

With my beautiful wife-

My detached home in the country!

I sip Chilean red wine,

In the Summertime.

Well, all year around,

Actually.

I rage about social injustice,

Internally,

Or jot it down, saf...

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Footsteps on the Stairs

1982

Power dressing, shoulder pads, big hair.

 

At the tender age of twenty-three,

I listened, closely, from my lonely bed,

To spectral footsteps on the stairs…

I wondered, grimly, if they came for me!

They echoed a measured, ghostly tread.

Paralysed by fear, I lay stock still,

Immobilised by my sense of dread!

Who, or what, had invaded my head?

 

From my upstai...

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Advice to my younger selfPoetry Challenge

For the Present...

“Have you got a present for me?!

William asks with a high-pitched

Lilting rise and fall…

But I have no presents ready at all.

“You had all presents, William,

The last time you came!”

 

Every time he visits us,

His question remains the same.

“Have you got a present for me?”

 

I then considered a poetic reply,

To circumvent a potential rift.

“William, every mom...

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Be Proud!

That really was England winning a cup!

Please do not adjust your sets!

Put black type on your C.V., girls,

Before the world forgets!

 

We don’t need ancient history,

Grainy images in grey and black,

Sad reflections on our years of hurt,

You have brought our football back.

When Chloe Kelly removed her shirt,

After slotting the ball in the German goal,

And threw that...

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A Holiday Job at the Woolgrowers

It was my first day at the Woolgrowers,

So, they gave me a special job.

I was holidaying from university,

And they thought I was a knob!

“Go to the warehouse, Johnny,

The boss needs a long weight.”

Well, being such a bright spark,

I did as I was told…

Standing at the storeroom doorway

Until I was numb with cold.

 

“Excuse me, can I have a long weight?”

I interru...

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A Postcard From R.A.F. Oulton

I gave my today,

For your tomorrow,

I gave my young life,

To keep Europe free,

From fascist bullies,

And tyranny.

 

I flew out from Oulton.

In the dead of the night,

To rain down shells,

From way up high,

Dodging the tracer bullets

Which sparked the night sky...

Raked with the gunfire

Our bomber dived, out of control…

And the order to ‘bale out,’

Was...

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Levelling Up

One year, the Thames was flooded.

I think it was back in Cameron’s time.

There were subsidies and grants galore.

“These terrible scenes of devastation!”

Were all that the Media could explore!

“These poor, benighted middle class!”

The Press couldn’t wait to kiss their ass!

 

At a similar stage of our climate crisis,

The City of Hull was washed away.

There was no talk o...

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Happy Birthday... To Me!

It’s got to the stage

Of my mum’s old age,

Where I buy all my own cards

For her sign, and address them to me,

When she can summon up the energy.

 

So, I bought myself the birthday card

I wanted to receive,

The one I truly deserve,

Though some may wonder

At my nerve…

A line of superheroes bedecked the top,

Hulk, Captain America, Ironman, the lot.

“You’re no...

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Poetry is...

Poetry is a passing smile.

The waft of your hair,

The touch of your hand.

Poetry is the whisper of the breeze

On a warm summer’s day.

 

Poetry is an act of kindness,

From an unexpected source.

A friendly greeting in the street,

From strangers whom we chance to meet..

Encouraging words on a greeting card.

Picking you up, when times are hard.

 

I overthink my p...

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Murder, Most Foul

Charlie’s marriage was stale and cold.

It had begun to go wrong as soon as they’d wed.

She said he smelled; her ways were too ‘old,’

So, he and Elma had separate beds.

 

The situation was desperate!

He couldn’t afford a divorce.

Charlie was in his forties,

The marriage wouldn’t last its course…

 

Naturally he sought out a ‘hitman,’

Someone of the highest repute,

...

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Cromwell

I am not a Cromwell devotee

He was far too puritanical, for me.

And a bit fanatical - banning Christmas!

Preferring to stand on his dignity.

His government was dictatorial

And inclined to pomposity!

This poem is rather cavalier,

But I pray that you revel in it,

Warts and all.

 

However, I couldn’t be a royalist,

The Divine Right of Kings

Cannot be condoned!

I...

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Famous People

Scarborough Festival

"Scorecards! Cards sixpence each!

Get your scorecards here! "

The old man in the white coat was always there,

His booming voice echoed around the ground.

 

Balmy, sunlit weekdays at the festival.

Bright azure blue, and cloudless, skies.

Not even the merest breath of a breeze.

Seagulls squawking, eyeing up our sandwiches, 

As we lay out our picnic on a rickety old bench.

...

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A Walk, to Remember

 

 

Mum’s Care Home is next to the cemetery,

Affording me some rather mawkish pursuits,

Like a health-giving walk amongst the dead!

This encouragement to physical exercise,

It occurs to me,

Is an exercise in egocentricity.

 

In my morbid ramble between the stones, 

I search for those I may have known.

Based on the dates of their demise,

Or names remembered f...

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Repeating Patterns

(The shirt referred to in this poem, is now in my profile picture)

 

On the flight path from his junior school,

William looked, with interest, at the shirt I wore,

“That’s a repeating pattern, grandad.

Yellow, white, blue, red, and green!”

“My flabber is well and truly gasted, William,

You’re the brightest boy I’ve ever seen!”

 

Life’s recurring patterns crop up, remorse...

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Alone, in a bar.

A singles bar is a lonely place,

I was in there.  Billy No Mates,

Waiting for someone to pour me a drink.

So, I snaffled some salted peanuts

From a tempting plate, right in front of me.

 

When a ghostly voice suddenly announced,

“You are looking most handsome, sir,

If I might be permitted to say.

Your clothes and shoes are elegant

And you sparkle, sir, in every single...

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Stoned

Put that stone down and turn your back!

Look a little further within.

Guilt is ubiquitous. It crosses our land.

There is no one you can crucify

To take away your sin.

 

Stop screaming abuse at your TV,

Condemning the proclivities of celebrity!

They are no different to you, or me.

We know temptation only too well.

Faults you see in others, correct in yourself.

Not e...

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