Long Terraced Poems

Now in my time echoes
  I remember then
  my full days in a life
  when I was ten.
We lived in a shadow 
  much greater 
  at the gates of...

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The ride to the country is uneventful
Except that I feel a little like
A man riding inside a cannon ball.
Yuliya's father Igor drives
I'm also up front (the honored guest)       ...

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I came back to you in September
you were quiet then
still,
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...

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The embers glow mysteriously as the breezes pass
In Whitby where the terraced houses fell on mass
Two new friends sit and chat about the devastating storms
And as they sit and talk an old legend is reborn.

T'was...

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Cluttering above huddled rooftops
Of sprawling villages 
And shy provincial towns;
Rising sharply amidst swooping
Declinations;
Hesitating when gathering at the
Tangled woodland perimeters of
Outlying greenland bounds,
Jostled apex ridges detach among
Themselves...
When habitually roused from early
Mornings
Newly awakened sounds.

Electrical milk floats whir...

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That afternoon at Highgate
When my life had paused awhile, 
Old graves and headstones greeted 
With their sad and forlorn smile.

Smirched epitaphs stared at me
My call they wanted to know, 
Though vowed in pensive silence
With the...

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Surrounded by tranquil turquoise waters,
Guarded on sides by oceans three,
In the east by the Pacific,
On the south by the Celebes Sea,
And on the west by the south China Sea, 
There is an archipelago on the...

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Walton’s Scrapyard

Mr Walton was our local scrap man
He wore a great big hat
His yard was squeezed between 
Two terraced houses
And I was always amazed at that

The yard was full of junk
Rusting scrap
And old tat
Tangled up...

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Some Glimpses of childhood Memories

The town where I grew up seems much the same 
Its many features yet retained
Still central fountain that caresses the sky
Its hazy droplets against the winter dregs of sun
Gone, the regiment...

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FLYING ON THE WINGS OF NOSTALGIA

I know the land where the lemon-trees flower,
the flushing meadows in spring are flooded in color,
the waves of morning mist rise from orchid valley floor,
grazing the emerald hill-slope to the...

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A low fog lingers on the ground 
On cobbled streets where coaches sound,
Candles dance inside the glass
Of lanterns as the moment's pass.

Terraced houses reach the sky
Chimneys smoke and Zeppelins fly,
Merchant's barter trade and speak
Tophats flood...

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My Dream Vacation

                  To return once more to Italy where the forgotten places
     ...

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Thanksgiving Visitors Come From Away

Hands once separated
 By history on shores of distant oceans
Entwined again on a blustery November morning,
Meeting beneath a song
 In the shadow of a steeple thrust
Into a brilliant autumn sky,
Uniting visitors...

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On a marvelous morning in Ooty
I was inside the beautiful Botanical Garden
On seeing colorful flowers, plants and trees, mind became empty
Courtesy of the goddess of gardeners gladden

Formally fashioned flora flaunts a feast 
Lie slope by...

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Musty boxes
Resting belligerently in forgotten corners
Gathering dust
Waiting to be dissected
Eviscerated
Purged of their jumbled bits and bobs
The oddments of a family of lives
Muscled arms heft them in a tanned sweaty embrace
A bumping scuffling journey ensues
The same...

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A World Shattered


http://www.freemalaysiatoday.com/category/nation/2017/11/15/penang-to-pay-funeral-expenses-of-mca-mans-family-members/   

Here in Bolehland, this has to be the saddest news to date...
The occurrence of a fiery tragedy, to leave a solitary victim in its wake...

Such a tragedy makes the famous...

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1. THE EARLY YEARS

It was Nineteen fifty seven, that’s the year that I was born
It was in a northern town of England, one early January morn
I thought I’d be an only child, with no-one else...

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In this time , this town, you'd grow
In this town, this time, you'll feel at home
your poor plenty more than rich enough
to crack the faultline,
your cup half full, half overflowing.

You stretch your legs and wings...

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I live in a quiet country village now but as a child I grew up as part of a mining community .
This is my tribute to those wonderful people.

Slag heap as high as a mountain...

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As she stopped atop the terraced stairs
 her tiny ,yet sensual figure .seemed to take on a glow
This beautiful woman, daughter of mine
 Was shining ,like a glistening gemstone of varying hues
And all living things...

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Gritted pavements chew neath worn sodden soles 
Dissipating cardboard inlaid repairs 
Gravel chews at my thrice darned old socks 
Absorbing trudged blisters weeping despair 
This old northerly town of sepia and grey 
Drains unborn hope...

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Manchester, born and bred, within a stone throw from the city centre
One of a family of nine kids and our mother as our mentor
In a place called Hulme, full of vagabonds and snot nosed scruff...

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Historically the books are written by a well-known writer 

The characters are formed to choose the sense of flight or fighter 

The library of the mind stows away the facts from the fiction 

The sequence...

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My English Brother and the Rich
I find it impossible to be envious of the wealthy, buying superyachts one bigger than the other, when they get seasick at the thought of sailing out to sea
Marrying a...

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I'm playing seafaring games on the marble table,
sketching between the blue striations of the stone, 
a slab that resembles an ocean to my young mind.
I draw armadas and stick figure Spaniards,
foes that fall into shark-infested...

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