The Desiccated Bus Shelter (Online Poetry Collection)

The Desiccated Bus Shelter

The Meking Oyles
Winter Form
Poem To Be Taken Literally
The Impressions of Wombwell: StrollTweets
Invisible Town (Ongoing Poem)
The Desiccated Bus Shelter
Three Meditations

THE MEKING OYLES

The Linen Town

March/April

In well drained soil sow flax seeds
watch blue bloom, then die

30 Days
seed bolls ripen, warm sun packed day
harvest, hand pull plants
bundle, stack root side down
Side a fence, turn by turn

 ensures even dry

Leave
Till firm stemmed, boll rattle

Rippling comb
dry plant pull

Chuck seeds
 
For 3 days retting
Water drowns plants
swells inner core
tautens fibre

Total rinse
spread out in fields to dry

Flax brake plants
for breaking
quick blows remove
inner bloom

Scutch
remove last boon
traces
chuck boon

Hackle bed comb
long fibres from shorter tow

Chuck tow

Total card
draws out fibres

Draw fibres
to even slivers

Rove
adds first twist to yarn

Spin
Sow, pull, dry,
ret, break, scutch, hackle,
card, draw, rove,
spin

bleach, weave, mend,
crop, mangle, wash
calender

Pack warehouse
Plain weave,
three/four leaf twill
huckabacks, dobby,
Jacquards, sheetings,
ticks, damasks,
towelling, ducks,
fancy Hollands.

Clean river Sough,
Clean air
Bright sun.

Two heraldic shuttle memory

The Wire Making Town

Wadsley and Attercliffe forges

bundle Iron/steel rods
arrive on cart

to Jumble Lane, near

May Day Green

Heat under charcoal pit
till red hot

Hammer
Take away angles,
lengthen,
round it

Wire Drawer gets paid
‘for meking oyles’

Draw
wire through largest
tapering hole
in Wortle plate

Make it finer
by a Dog
heavy tool
via wheels and cranks

Watch speed of pull
Wortle plate held by tongs

Anneal
heat rod then cool
remove scaling

to fit through wortle plates
smaller, smaller holes

finer, finer, finer

fine wire fish hooks, watch springs
needles

hard wire for cotton/woolcard teeth,
riddles, sieves

Poem To Be Taken Literally

My body is a rainbow
My blood is an explosion
My heart is a rusty cage
These are not metaphors

Please take this literally
That cloud is my opinion
That road is an orange
That wish is my house
That burnt toast is my belonging

These are not metaphors
This hand is a metal spade
This foot is a knife edge
This mouth is a dark valley
These words are made of light

This is not a poem
This is the ultimate answer.
This tells you how to live
This tells you the only truth

Winter Form

November evening exile ice Bristol park edge wooden form three pairs of clothes newsprint warmth only Mirror cloth against cold hunger eats bones

No rent

Purple finger ends veins icy twitch bad blood his mother said

No job.

Winters’ park form edge is razor thought takes empties pockets, sparkling fluff elastic band broken biro no cold coin disgrace.

This is not a poem about park life on a winter form
These are not words about not being able
This is not about lack of power

 

 

 

The Impressions Of Wombwell : Stroll Tweets

Rain constellations bus window, cars backwash tarmac
droplets break tension ripples natural birdbath.

Squashed plastic blue pen, empty grey fag packet, lobbed lottery ticket: middle of road Spring revelation

empty black/red polystyrene Coke Zero cup circles street middle, Black/white fat cat waddles across road: life design

After nimbus drops inhale moss like marine pool kelp after wave sea breeze fresh, glowing: Wombwell by the sea.

pigeons, spuggys shadow puppetry streets, houses.Tarmac warm shivers. Radiant windows flash mirror passing traffic

Evening spitting, growling, flaming, fluid lads/lasses on heat, short shirts tempers. This is the barbecue.

sunbreaking brought bling jewels from overnight rain, droplet tiaras/earrings trees, lampposts ankle bracelets.

On bus glimpse unnetted/unblinded windows massive TVs window on window on corporate images: ogle goggle boxed.

Fresh grass laundered, barbeque wafts, Rounding white clouds sky ablaze: Natural delights

cat trots downhill to bike shop. Black stringtied purse roadside. Folded bus pass at bus stop: ways home

Red brick houses catch breath pinioned afore storm close hunker flashwatch glower cloud roll amass. Listen.

Corvus monedula, playful Jack at roof apex rogue eyes, Chaucers ‘Daw’ away, apex grey Dove taken: roost rule

Coarse grained Millstone Grit sandstone, smooth grained Pennine Measure sandstone verb pit weathered tongue

Zoom gold world, old pump, miners lamp, glass bottles, cricket/tennis, canal boat

kids yellow news reporters journal shreds, blue T-shirted man empties blue, pink plastic buckets in skip

Gamelan downpour, runnelled percussion,  slate rooftile gong sheen, fag packet drumbeat

Front yard regimented seedling pots need repotting, old green plastic box reused as plant pot: Recycling

Tiny toy bear airs pink feet, pink yard brush multi coloured handle beside one brown handle black wired

graffiti white chalk ‘donkey’ on red brick, stone house side glows yellow rape shines in green: golden hour

barely birdcall deep morning breath grey sky waiting…waiting…suncrash wake up call to action

Gardens horizon hedge leaves twitch animal prowl or raindrop down breeze blown alive under hunkered grey

High Street market traders van unload tightly packed clothes thin paper/geological layers: future treasure

My quest to find the marvellous each day
out of the daily commute and nothing to say
It is as it should be no more or less
Life surprises

Backyard, eye swag silver, two joy, pica pica purplish-blue iridescent sheen wing feather green gloss tail

on train squeal chatter, vivid, green, blue, beavers, cubs, scouts, ventures: anarchy in uniform

unshaven bald man, open green raincoat, brown leather shoes, hauls local paper packed lime green trolley

old folk bench gab, mothers stroll babies down funeral paths eye gambolling squirrels, cemetery a parkland

bright cemetery leaves behind dark, Bakers window 6 loaves, 1 burnt, nurse boards bus, ‘I was miles away’

sunstruck leaf bunch drips bright molten green glass, other leaves luminescent silver stars in green matter, shade cut

patient silver hubcap rests under stone cemetery wall behind blue bus stop halo, full moon fall: day waits

Shadows pass over bus as if it is stop motion animated. I get on the animation. Hand held camera glare work journey

Town a small canvas tent unzipped tied back crowcall, fragrant grass, earth close, sun blue. Is on holiday

light quality early noon than morning, 3 patient full brown potato bags by grocers, cloud dispersal pends

Branches bend leaves rustle and twitch, ghost in cemetery trees, quiet overcast, no wind, ghost juggles food in paws.

Folded red top newspapers racked to front door, pale blue vested, black shorts silver haired man, newspaper in hand

Freshly painted black coping stone in afternoon sun makes light. Tarmac repairs like solid shadow overlaid with shade

Beneath tarmac and pavement a field waits, creeps through weeds, rare flowers in spaces we ignore. The field waits.

Black plastic fall pipe storm disconnected, one green glass lager bottle atop bus stop revolving timetable

Bartholomew Stream, Frederick Stream, Main Stream, soon Weeping Willow, Lily Pads. Streets are streams.

Wombwell Is word made. Word ‘Sun’ is heavier today, than yesterday. Word ‘light’ is longer. Word ‘water’ rarer bought in bottle.

First lichens moss garden escapees spiders harvestmen beetles railway siding embankment: greening wasteland.

Across valley Darfield is a small Umbrian town, and Wombwell from there the same. Among coniferous greenery, home

Invisible Town (Ongoing Poem)

Invisible Town: where children hunt/kill all small animals to eat. Taught by their parents to catch their breakfast, dinner and tea. No pets

people live in gardens and tend to empty houses. Sheds store vacuum cleaners, polish for windows. People sleep on grass

people go to sleep to work. Journey to work is getting ready for bed. Waking is returning home.

Invisible Town: in which nothing is kept. People watch how things are made, but once created these things are discarded. Creation is vital.

Invisible Town: where people live in cemeteries and the dead are buried in empty houses and streets. Babies are born on gravestones

Invisible Town: where it is romantic to give young girls/boys weeds, flowers are frowned upon. Any sign of decoration is abusive

Invisible Town: where diseases are a gift. Any spot/disfigurement brings instant adulation/fame. Health is frowned upon as unsightly

Invisible Town: where cleanliness is a crime. Dirt is sacred. No one baths/showers. Water is anathema. Houses/gardens must not be cleaned.

Rich live in lowliest hovel, while poorest live in massive mansions with long drives and servants, but no money

Any kind of trade is illegal. Emotions are swapped as currency. Love is the most valuable item. Anger is the least.

If anyone uses their imagination sun comes out, blue skies, warm weather, everyone else smiles/laughs feels good.

No one can act unknowingly. If they commit a crime/lie they have a natural death and are buried outside the town

Hearsay, rumour suspicion are admissible evidence in courts. Material, circumstantial evidence is irrelevant.

Breakfast is an evening meal, Lunch at Midnight, Dinner at dawn. Snacks are never occasional, eaten an hour after set meals

Birth is a time of mourning/sympathy, death is a happy celebration. Graveyards are filled with market stalls/dancing.

Everything has been discovered, all inventions have been made, there is no need for imagination.

Birth is a time of mourning/sympathy, death is a happy celebration. Graveyards are filled with market stalls/dancing.

Invisible Town: where the unexpected always happens, and the expected happens unusually. Sun rises in evening, sun down is morning.

A paragraph/stanza difficult to read, then urge/ntly to know widens eyes, detail foregrounds, colour sharpens, shadows acute

No electric/gas light. Wood fires flicker at street ends, in single rooms shadow on walls, glorious stars and robbers abound

Every street must be a wasteland: broken bottles, discarded rubbish, rusty nails, decaying carpet. Belonging is discouraged.

Amount and weight not quality of jewellery you wear is sign of wealth/prestige. Piercings/tattoos admired/flaunted.

Violence is always acceptable. Non violence is cowardice, defeat admitted. Only big, strong survive. Bullying praised.

Freezing cold is welcomed. All animals slaughtered, every part used to build shelter, skins warmth, bone tools, percussion.

All surfaces are child friendly soft. All houses have slides, all workplaces ball pools. Play is work. Riotous creativity

dark corners are encouraged. It is an architectural trend to see how many can be made in one building. Cleaners despair.

where a buildings decay is encouraged as a haven for wildlife. People born/live/die in hides, record wildlife as heirlooms.

Nobody puts things back correctly. Compensation is unknown. Goods on wrong shelves. Kids to wrong houses. Fiction in non

Invisible Town Grows

People unaware of future build houses on past, make layers over ancestors, history is a foundation stone, statue, plaque.

Fields, green, gold, purple separated by hedges, woods, can be seen for miles around. Farmers market town.

No houses, no shops, only cars, lorries, caravans, boats. All on move. Snack food, traffic convoys. Mobile towns, no rest.

where strangers pick up strangers No one knows another, because they do not know how. Families are unknown to each other.

Silence compulsory as  people need to listen to gusts special language, sometimes warm gentle touch, others cold ferocious.

No maps, no street signs, no road signs. People navigate with natural signs, moss on trees, plants grow particular places.

Deliberate acts have random consequences. Blow on your to cool it down, people die in missile attack.

Invisible Town Suffers

Invisible Town: is coastal as all towns. Fishing main job. All Fisher people. Sewing nets, fleshing catches, praying for safe return.

warnings go out. Move. This house/school/building will be demolished. If message not heeded your memory will be honoured.

conctete motorways, flyovers, high rise living are the thing. Little homes squeeze into a few feet. Noise abatement unknown.

Barefoot is the new black. Feet are judged as to cleanliness, artistry. Tattooed is trending. Foot Features on the famous.

The Desiccated Bus Shelter

as a poem

Desiccated Bus Shelter is ideal on your cereal in the morning. It gives renewed energy, vigour and hope.

Desiccated Bus Shelter on your lunch,
gives that extra kick to continue the day,
enabling you to punch through to days end with a feeling of real achievement.

Desiccated Bus Shelter as an accompaniment to your evening meal encourages restful winding down of a days labour, relaxation and repose.

as a political/artistic statement

For those who feel modern politics is ineffective, Desiccated Bus Shelter: reshuffling the Shelters glass is a more effective communicator.

Desiccated Bus Shelter: And if not political, then because they can, like Hillary and Everest. It makes you proud to be British.

Desiccated Bus Shelter: an art event, a happening, a situationist response to geographical stimulus. A radical take on the objects purpose.

Three Meditations

Sunlight in evening
Falls like silence
Against stone walls
Against red brick
Silence heats all
My love of stone
And of brick

Sweet air like stone
Inhabits a mouth
Inhabits a thought
Makes home
In them all

When earth rises
Out of solitude
thought lifts
Like this hand
And this awakens
A need to mold
To make against
Unmake, create

2 thoughts on “The Desiccated Bus Shelter (Online Poetry Collection)

  1. re The Linen Town: This reminded me of hearing my Aunt talk about her childhood in Ireland. She had to walk to convent school past the flax fields and their trenches of soaking flax stalks. She said the stench coming from the rotting flax seemed to get everywhere and into everything, even lingering on her clothes and following her into school.

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