Best Newcastle Poems
NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE, ENGLAND
Half-Scot, half-English and ill at ease with the past,
Newcastle is sooty black from its coaly drama,
And the breathless town was always in a hurry to grow,
Narrowly avoiding destruction of its past or leaping over it.
Up on the plateau, industrial power-engine city:
Its earlier Norman Castle and Black Gate narrowly missed
By the frenetic hammers of eager Victorian builders.
Elegantly-proportioned Grainger Street and Central Rail Station
Pause unwillingly to admit the Scottish-style lantern-spired
Sandstone cathedral with its delicate shade of sooty industrial black.
Down at the riverside - an earlier town of shipyards and arms factories,
Quayside warehouses with watertight flood-doors,
Its precipitous narrow old port-streets carved into the gorge walls
And pierced by cold winds from the North Sea,
Is leaped over by a platoon of high-level metal bridges.
Across the Tyne, inelegant, they grab the opposite bank and bind the city to England.
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NOTE: 1 Newcastle is situated on the north ( = Scottish ) side of the River Tyne.
The town was an epicenter of the Industrial Revolution,
with coal, steel, chemical, engineering, and shipbuilding
industries, and was also a major seaport.
2 Norman Castle, Black Gate are remnants of a pre-medieval past.
3 Grainger Street, Central Rail Station are 19th century redeveloped areas.
4 Cathedral (St. Nicholas) dates from 14th century.
CULLERCOATS *
Warm brown sandstone cottage walls
Doors and windows very old
Shelter face from sea-wind squalls:
Inside, tales of sea are told
Toy shops there with spinning windmills
Fisher - women selling show me
Big-clawed crabs and periwinkles:
Willicks and pin hinny? *
Twisting road clings on with ease
To the cliff edge way up high
Salty seaweed on the breeze :
Speaks of rocks and sand and sky
And though just a tiny cove
It has a brand-new shining lifeboat
For those who go to sea to rove:
It tells of men that cannot float
The fish, the salt, the boat, the rock
The storms and wrecks and tiny boats
I love to hear the fish-folk talk :
Their touching magic anecdotes
Notes *
Willicks : Geordie argot for periwinkles.
The pin was needed to pry out the tiny fish from its shell.
Cullercoats is a small fishing village on the east coast of England, near Newcastle.
They're selling off our Airport, does anybody care?
The old Gazette's done nothing yet, no 'Save it' campaign there
The Echo there in Darlo seems quite reluctant to
Investigate the Peel Magnate and what they're pushing through
We contacted the BBC to find out what they thought
They built a reputation on injustices they've fought
But Inside Out's done less than nowt, it all seems too much hassle
Imagine the furore if it happened at Newcastle
It seems our dithering councillors sold off the legacy
Of half a million users, all done on the Q.T.
Our MPs tell us nothing, and, quieter than a mouse
Is the sinister young Minister of the Northern Poorhouse
Freedom of Information's not easy to obtain
Rumours of secret deals done, we hear now and again
But calls fall on deaf ears, to them it's all a game
Elected representatives should hang their heads in shame
It looks like asset-stripping, part of the business creed
As Peel dole out their reasons to mask their business need
And those we chose to serve us must surely think we're blind
I wonder who's being treated well, in my suspicious mind. CHING CHING.
We had a bustling airport, to us a little gem,
But giving up our heritage means simply nowt to them,
They're gonna build the factory sites and houses everywhere
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care.
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care.
WATCH ME SING THIS IN CONCERT. YOUTUBE
'AIRPORT' LOUIS SPENCE. Thank You
Time outruns those who don't sprint
To keep up. It never turns back
Or bothers to wait for idle souls
Why carry coals to Newcastle?
Time misspent is time gone forever
Easy come and easy go
Time is too busy to wallow in
The stillness of now. Indeed, it does
Flee like a long-distance runner
With an engine that keeps on
Humming and chugging, it keeps on
Steadily; time never crawls, it sprints
CONTEST NO 218 any form-any theme with max of 12 lines Poetry Contest
Winner(8th Place)
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date written: 10/03/2013
Date posted: 03/29/2016
Tonight there is a match on telly
The lads are coming round
most of them are married
So my home is to be the neutral ground .
If any of their wives ring
I'm to pretend that I am deaf
and they've all elected me to be
head barman and chef.
I've got Guinness and lager
A crate or two of Yorkshire ale
Newcastle brown and bitter
So the booze just cannot fail .
I've made three lovely shepherds pies
but I asked the lads which veg I should use
I've just been reading their replies
Now I'm totally confused .
One lad doesn't like cabbage
Another doesn't like swede
and it seems broccoli and cauliflower
are members of a dying breed .
The veg that the lads want
From all the replies I've seen
are lots of French fried onions
and cans of Heinz baked beans .
12 drunken farting Yorkies
My house would smell like an old cess pit
So they'll get what their given
They can take it or leave it .
Lemon sole for starters
Chocolate cheesecake for dessert
and if I get a single complaint
I'll kick them where it hurts.
Arsenal first Friday, always start well
New signings too, will give Leicester hell
Arsenal easy, next,
Liverpool in the early game, a win at a canter
Watford offer up more presents than Santa
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, next,
Chelsea at the Bridge a cert to crush Burnley
Untouchable last season, this is money for free
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, next,
Man City away win, there’s simply no reason
Why Brighton won’t be relegation fodder this season
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, Man City away, next,
Spurs to cane Newcastle, big gap in class
Don’t think the magpies are gonna last
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, Man City away, Spurs pure class, last,
Man United on fire, all glitz and glamour
Scoring for fun, gonna stuff the hammers
Arsenal easy, Liverpool canter, Chelsea a cert, Man City away, Spurs pure class, United on fire,
Fifty quid on a six-fold, what could possibly go wrong
.
.
Arsenal Nil Leicester 1
.
.
Damn
NEWCASTLE - NORTHUMBRIAN CITY
Half-English, half-Scot: martial roots in the past,
Newcastle - once dark from its coaly drama -
A breathless place ever ready for change.
Shudder at the Keep and Black Gate’s near defeat
By the march of Victorian railway builders ;
In narrow streets now widened,
Shiver with winds from sea or moors.
Tyne, father of this town
Famed for guns and ships,
Is o’erleaped by a platoon of steel bridges
Grabbing the south bank, binding the city to England.
A Perfect Company
By: Noel N. Villarosa
They are the big fish in a small pond
They received kudos and power widely
With their bunch of fives used as their wand
They dominate while sitting idly
Been tasked in carrying coals to Newcastle
Never saw them as cool as a cucumber
The atmosphere of the office is in a chronical hassle
Mobility and formative years, they are there to encumber
World-weary, so he indulged into stargazing
That he was working in a peculiar place
Where people work with eternal bliss
Where no one to make shudder and no egotist displaying
Everyone is happy to comply with buoyant spirits
You feel as no stranger but as a longtime friend
Where giving recognition and importance have no limits
Different origins and cultures do blend
There were no rush works and pressures
No deadline to meet and sanction
All work harmoniously with pleasures
And get involved in another function
They were wearing a white uniform
No shoes, all are barefooted
No pains to bear and no hurting words thrown
A feeling of living in your own homestead
The place is boundless in its beauty
Where children play with other creatures
No darkness, only eternal light and free from enmity
That you can rest in the placidity of its seashore
Then a meeting was called and everyone gathered in the garden
He was introduced by the man sitting on the throne
He saw the man’s face as magnanimous, charmingly simple and serene
A soothing voice and said, my son, there is no contract signing that you can hold your own
Only love will bind us as one
Written and posted also in voicesnet.com poetry site: 4 January 2010
I love this brown ale so much
In a glass so clear
Newcastle, you are the one
When poet Tennyson was very young,
He was a handsome tiny son,
Who loved playing tennis under the sun.
When in his teens,
Tennyson excelled at his studies
So much so that he won the admiration of
Adorable girls who numbered ten.
As an adult Tennyson the tiny son went on a journey
To a faraway city called Newcastle upon Tyne.
There he came across a man who covered himself with tin.
Tennyson decided to call him "Tin Man."
Tin Man and Tennyson became good friends
So close together at all times.
Then one day they met someone so pretty and tiny
Who looked and behaved exactly like Tinker Bell.
Tinker Bell, Tinker Bell, tinkle all the way,
Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-donkey open sleigh!
"What a delightful, perfectly beautiful day we have today!"
Said Tinker Bell.
Oops! I don't think she could talk.
Who, then, made that statement, I wonder?
I wonder, I wonder, Alice in Wonderland.
Humpty Dumpty all the way,
Smiling nastily like that cat
Whose mouth was floating in the air,
Devoid of the rest of her body.
All the king's horses and all the king's men
Couldn't put Alice together again.
And she one day decided to climb that tree,
Which grew so tall as to reach the sky,
Out of those beans that that old, ugly woman
Had given her the previous day
In exchange for the cake Alice had given her.
So Alice climbed and climbed and
At last she landed on the nearest cloud.
There she saw a great mansion
Surrounded by vines.
She lost no time in stealing in through the huge iron door.
There she found this goose of gold
And Alice was tempted to steal it
And bring it back home.
And so she went down back home
With that goose of gold
And lived happily ever after.
LONDON JOURNEY FASCINATION
First time on a mainline LNER train *
When you’re five’s a signal whistle
For six hours Kings Cross to Newcastle **
Sightseeing. Walk along platform to attain
The exit past the loco at the buffers:
In a forest of knees and suitcases,
The oiled steel engine’s grace is
Close enough to touch: my mother suffers
My adoration of its black livery
And emblazoned gold name “Woodcock”.
The time on the gigantic station clock
Shows our speedy, safe and prompt delivery.
Huge driving wheels and pistons are higher
Than my five-year-old frame.
Somebody cares well for that engine of fame
That steel rail non-stop flier.
Oh the trip is an exciting drama
I have comics to read and sandwiches and tea
But what never ceases to fascinate me
Is the moving view and panorama -
Oncoming trains go flashing by
Wheels a-roar and whistles blare
Nothing quite like this to compare
Too fast even for the adoring eye;
Birds sitting on the telephone wires,
Like musical notes in an unsung air,
Unending composition, unfinished movement fair,
From one end of the country to the others;
The journey long stayed in my memory
Made me a traveller inveterate.
Impact on me impossible to over-rate -
Imbued with the notion of discovery.
…………………………………………………
Note:
* LNER = London and North Eastern Railway
** Kings Cross = London mainline terminal station
Newcastle-upon-Tyne Dackel was nine
He sniffed the breeze for the traces of Rhine
In the show there was a foe
Badger was biting his toe
He whined and sent badger a valentine
Roger the badger went to Kebbit the rabbit
A sneak and scratching dick was badger's habit
And he gave the buck a ruck
Dackel's valentine guck
"We really got sucked in by this muck"
WASHINGTON POST Saturday, February 14
Fifty Shades of Grey - Valentine's Day
Badger Beauty got a card from Curious, lively, charming, and brave Droozy
Suffering from tunneling syndrome
This Dachshund may be right for you.
GATESHEAD 1954
My home’s between vinegar factory
And a small-time scrap metal dealer
This town is an ugly and grimy
Industrial place - and it doesn’t get any realer
Like rich woman next door to a poor one
Newcastle’s ashamed of her dowdy neighbour
Like San Francisco is of Oakland
Or Washington is of Baltimore
Our shared property fence, the Tyne
Bridges are landmarks of Newcastle, it’s said
But lead to nowhere across the river line,
To my home, grimy Gateshead. **
It is a shadow town, all but dead
And no one really cares - the best can be said
About coming from Gateshead
Is…..coming from Gateshead.
**Gateshead – a large heavily industrialized town across the River Tyne from Newcastle,
England.
Part 1
1958 (Introduction to employment)
Often I drift back to the days, where it all began. To feel again
the sharp brisk morning air against my inferior nakedness,
whilst sprightly making my way down school lane, towards the local builder’s yard,
to earn my weekly pittance!
here where the first day ritual, of one’s treatment an introduction to.
“Left handed screw drivers, buckets of steam,
(and don’t forget the lid,)
sky hooks for the innovative amongst us;
and grease around the balls ‘had they been quick enough!’”
My last day of education, teacher said I was a hopeless case,
the picture they drew for me, was one of depression.
“Curriculum vitae” none existent buried deep within my soul.
“God! What I’d give to be a footballer.”
(“Newcastle United” Laid heavy on my mind.)
Yet! Who was there to help me? Why this constant inability to learn when
no one spent the time to coax, or simply understand, and encourage,
while indoctrination imprinted from many years past, handed down through
generation to generation, taught one that,
“Hard work never hurt anyone.”
(“It bloody killed my father!”)
Employment a new world, the master’s menu
now activated upon an innocent ego, waiting to be stirred, by the privileged.
To confuse the gullible “Master” moves in many devious ways, to coerce one to believe in
a system that spawns tyranny! “These Rams of society” Manipulators all, whose ecstasies
of sweet moments are drawn from the cries of menial men, those whom when on his morning tour of the works, doff their caps, as one would when Pharaoh entered the room, therefore destined to wander aimlessly, within each corporation statutory limits.
It was here an introduction to the red power, born from ideological ideals,
collective thoughts being their strength, leaving individuality as a nonentity, and a friendly threat that left me cold inside.
Yes! It is this system I grew to despise so much, yet kindled by England’s very own
“Twin seeds of learning.”
© Harry J Horsman 2012
Legend Of The Black Dove
(Part 9) "The Voyage To Where ?"
The weather is cold and the sea calm as the 'Columbia' goes out to sea.
Norrington and Jenkins finally fall asleep in their cabin while on deck
the captain fears something wrong with the ship, the weather picks up
to a squall as the 'Columbia' gains tremendous speed and a strange
mist engulfs the ship. She is travelling an amazing 2000knots and
then suddenly slows down. They are in a harbour once again, but
where are they ? It is now daylight, it having being night just an hour
before going to sea. The jolt from sudden stopping awaken Norrington
and Jenkins and they head up on deck. From the captain, Norrington
finds out the ship has travelled to some unchartered land, he
orders for a boat to be lowered intending to go ashore on a
scouting mission and asks for volunteers, Norrington and Jenkins go
along with Captain Dennis Owens and his first officer Glenn Hill plus
two crewmen. As they approach Dover harbour (is Dover here an
unchartered land?) the passengers and crew behold a very unusual
sight: instead of sailing ships they notice ships of strange types moored
in the harbour, along with the 'Enterprise'- the sister ship of the
'Columbia' which must be brand new, but appears to be worn out and
ready for scrapping. What are these strange ships, what had happened
to their own ship ? The Captain decides he needed some answers
(The Captain wishes to find out) so they all decide to board one of the
strange vessels. When on board they go below deck and find a propulsion
system of strange design on the cellar deck. they are all amazed at what
they see. The captain discovers the bridge of the huge ship full of weird
levers and instrumentation. Owens notices a placard on the ship's wheel
mount on the 'Albatross' built at Newcastle in 1929, as well as a calendar
dated 1930,and it all starts to make sense: the weird mist had transported
them through a time portal from 1750 to the year 1930.....
Is the crew of the 'Columbia' marooned forever in this particular time period ?
Is there any way back to their own time?
Make the discovery (Find out) in Part 10...."The Unknown World"
Posted the first day of each month.
Written 30th July 2013