Author: gabrielsmy

Top Floor, Duke William

An upstairs room
with red and gold chairs,
military pictures,
a dumb waiter.
A corner bar
with interesting lights-
An intriguing locked cabinet.
And below,
a framed photograph
of the queen.

Taken from an update email sent to a poetry group after a meeting on 21st October in the Duke of William pub, Matlock. ‘And’ has been added to line 8. Submitted by Margaret.

What is the use of our being told that we live in a democracy if we want fountains and have no fountains?

By all means
let us have a policy
of full employment,
increased production,
no gap between exports and imports,
social security,
a balanced This
and a planned That,

but let us also
have fountains –

more and more fountains –
higher and higher fountains –
fountains like wine,
like blue and green fire,
fountains like diamonds –

and rainbows
in every square.

Taken from J B Priestly’s book Delight, first published in 1949. Submitted by Ailsa Holland.

I would rather work in mill than in pit

I hurry in the clothes I’ve now got on,
trousers and ragged jacket; the bald place
upon my head made by thrusting the corves;
my legs have never swelled, but sisters’ did
when they went to mill; I hurry the corves
a mile and more under ground and back;
they weigh three hundredweight; I hurry
eleven a-day; I wear a belt and chain
at the workings to get the corves out;
the getters that I work for are naked
except their caps; they pull off all their clothes;
I see them at work when I go up; sometimes
they beat me, if I am not quick enough,
with their hands; they strike me upon my back;
the boys take liberties with me sometimes,
pull me about; I am the only girl
in the pit; there are about twenty boys
and fifteen men; all the men are naked;
I would rather work in mill than in pit.

(17-year-old Patience Kershaw’s account of working in a Halifax coal pit, from Facts and Figures, May 1842)

The Jealous Friend

When we’re side by side
walking down the street
every glance is in her direction.
I pretend not to notice
but I feel like an accessory
it’s as if I don’t exist

I was ecstatic one summer
When she put on a lot of weight
and was wallowing in misery
I had a spring in my step
when we walked down the street
but she still managed to take centre stage
even with her muffin top

(From What I’m really thinking: the jealous friend. Submitted by Lisa Oliver)

Without conscience

He will choose you,
disarm you with his words.

Control you with his presence.

He will delight you with his wit and his plans.
He will show you a good time.

You will always get the bill.

He will smile and deceive you

and he will scare you with his eyes

and when he is through with you, and he will be through with you,
he will desert you and take with him
your innocence and your pride.

You will be left much sadder but not a lot wiser
and for a long time you will wonder what happened and
what you did wrong.

And if another of his kind comes knocking on your door,

will you open it?

From The Psychopath in Prison, an essay by Dr Robert Hare. Two conjunctions removed. Submitted by Deborah.

In Other News

I always go
for the beheading option
but
when I’ve calmed down
realise
that it’s not possible
in a free market economy

Anyway how are you?

I’ve been writing
even tweeted the National Gallery

All I need now is a job,
a relationship
and a cup of tea (not
necessarily
in that order)

Taken from a friend’s email, 26 September 2012. Some words have been omitted between ‘National Gallery’ and ‘All I need’. Submitted by Ailsa Holland.

Redemption

Then I got up to leave
and said Stand up.
He stood. I said: Look at me.

I’m a middle aged man
with a limp and a wheeze
and a son and a wife that I love.

I’m not just a little avatar.
You’re better than this.
You have a name of your own.

Be proud of it.
Don’t hide it again
and I won’t ruin it.

Now shake hands.
‘I’m sorry.’ he said,
and looked like he meant it.

Then we shook on it.

From the blog post Meeting A Troll. Submitted by Angi Holden.