| The Spirit Within |
Here at United Press we always delight in setting poets a challenge.
In this volume we asked a group of poets to come up with something which reflected the title theme The Spirit Within.
In editing this volume I have been pleasantly surprised by the wide variety of material we have been able to put together.
Poets are so individual and unique and their work provides a wide span of contrasts. This volume includes almost every kind of poetry you can imagine - from the comical and satirical to the the sad and sentimental, from the biting and brutal to the timeless and traditional.
But we hope you, the reader, appreciate exactly what each of these poets is trying to say to you. Because even though the way they say it differs so much, they all have one intention in common - to put you, their audience, in touch with the way they feel and by doing so, show you The Spirit Within.
MY
MOTHER’S HAT
My mother’s hat. She wore it all the time
She bought it for the winter in nineteen thirty-nine.
Just a little black wool beret with a pom-pom on the top.
It kept her always snug and warm when she went out to shop.
She wore it at the seaside, she wore it in the snow.
She always took it with her wherever she did go.
There was nothing special to it, except that it was hers.
And everybody knew it would outlive all the furs.
But now she is no longer and doesn’t need a hat.
I feel each day much stronger I cannot part with that.
So if you see folk staring at the thing upon my head.
You’ll know that I’ll be wearing my mother’s hat instead.
Helen Langstone, Great Yarmouth, Norfolk
Helen Langstone said: "I always have fun writing poetry but, after taking it more seriously over the last five years I have been successful in competitions, have been interviewed on radio and have had 21 poems printed under my previous name of Utting. I am now 80, have a good family and lots of friends who help and encourage me to keep writing. I often get requests to write for special occasions. Having led a full and varied life, whether it’s happy or sad, I can always find inspiration for a new poem."
THE HURDY-GURDY MAN
Would
you tap your fag ash down a saxophone's bell?
The saxophonist you know would create absolute hell
Or hook a coat hanger over a flute?
The flautist a gasket would blow - not a toot
Take a trombone mouthpiece to use as a prop
For the top of an ornate candlestick?
The trombonist irate, would sure seal your fate
March you down to the nick - a fair cop
Yet on a piano one can plonk down a box
Lean up against it and try on new socks
Get out those brochures, discuss dress and wigs
Spill one’s coffee and stub out one’s cigs
Mark up the cashbook, open the tin
All can queue up to pay their subs in
They could go elsewhere; they wouldn’t be missed
But he’s captive: just a handle he turns: who is he
to insist?
He’s only the nobody pianist
Geoffrey Martin, Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire
ALONE IN SILENCE
No more shall I see the early dawn
Or the setting of the sun
Nor hear the patter of the rain
Or the rustle of the leaves.
No more shall I see the clouds above
Amidst the clear blue sky
Or the birds in flight and countryside
Upon this heavenly earth.
No one will come and visit me
As I lay alone is silence
With memories of long ago
When I was not nice to know.
But soon the veil of darkness
Shall close my eyes forever
As I go beyond the distant sunset
And set free my spirit within.
Jim Carlin, Bishops Tawton, Devon
PEACE AND TRANQUILLITY
As I gaze upon the scene
Of rolling hills, and pastures green,
This place of such tranquillity,
Has come to mean so much to me.
Enfolding me are wings of peace,
Post cares and sorrows I now release,
And free my mind of all my fears,
I put aside the lonely years.
My yesterdays are bitter-sweet,
Some remain for me to keep
As fond memories, to bring a smile, or a sigh,
To which I cannot say goodbye.
My spirit lifts to reach new heights,
It soars above, in joyous flight,
Thankful for the love I’ve found,
In which I am forever bound.
Carol Hooper, Redmarley, Gloucestershire
DO NOT SIGH
Do not sigh said the blind man
Do not whimper, moan or cry
For you have two eyes
I have none
But my spirit is soaring high
Do not sigh said the cripple
Do not whimper, moan or cry
For you have two legs
My legs have gone
But my spirit is soaring high
Joan Kernick, Newton Abbot, Devon
YOUR STAR
The essence that is me will
Always be with you as a star
Its twinkling my laughter, its
Sparkle my smile
Sometimes you may not see
My glow, but I will always
Be there to guide
And protect you
Wherever in the world you
May be, if you need me
Whisper my name and look
To the sky, you will see me
For I am for eternity, the light
In your life that one day
May seem distant and dim
But will never go out
Sheila Rogers, Walsall, West Midlands
Dedicated to my husband Ernie, sons, Steven and David, their wives Jan and Julie, my grandsons Tom, Callum, and Ethan and my friends Irene, Joan (JJ), Jeannie, Mark and John. Remember me and smile.
ECHO IN THE MIND
How clear the echoes in the mind
Memories of long ago
How short does seem the path of time
From those we used to know
The memory of first love, so clear
That youth struggles with time
For it does not seem so long ago
That we were in our prime
How often now, we hear the words
The years have gone so fast
It seems the older that we get
The less the years do last
All we know and all we have seen
Is deep within our mind
And memories can clear the way
To the echoes in the mind
Bernard Tucker, London
MEMORIES OF MY PAST
When I look back it seems to me
That there is a pattern in life for all to see
What makes us go on when all we have is lost
Our inner strength gives us courage we do not count the cost
We realise how little material things matter at last
Though money is important it cannot replace what is past
To see your smiling face would mean the world to me
Or hear you asking for yet another cup of tea
As I stand here now in the chapel of rest
My memories remain for you were one of the best
Your bravery shone through right to the end
I remember you as a husband, lover, and friend
How I wish we could turn back time
I remember how we danced together and drank fine wine
So often we had danced the night away
Those memories I have will remain with me to stay
Enid Skelton, Luton, Bedfordshire
WONDERING
I am wondering what you are doing tonight
I am wondering if you are holding
Some body real tight and
Loving them with delight as you are
Thinking about me tonight and
Wondering whom I am loving tonight
Sandra Goddard, Kingston-upon-Thames, Surrey
BALLISTIC METAMORPHOSIS
Pained in centuries of waxed steel the salient buzzard rips
The brick ribs of crimson gargoyle’s upon the brittle
facets
Of earthly stomachs atoned in ligatures of malevolent tonation
Within the pleasure battalions and rattled miracles
Ensued and construed painting endlessly against the sturgeon
Contortions ebbing in rooms of rigid regard and rigid remarks
That scythe against the black blood simulation
As respectable infidels limit the creation
Above the discourse of interned rickets and interned rackets
That bloom the pole of isobars of frozen fusion and glimmer
In hospitable hope of menacing troubadour's and menacing
crucibles
As drowning webs cast upon the broken rim of royalty
Where oceans melt within the radiance of facial elevation
Supported and deported where leopard flies rage brazed and
funnelled
Within the flowering latitude of grief and the futuristic
hunger
Meleeze Zenda, St Helens, Merseyside
MEMORIES
How green the grass, how blue the sea,
But they’re not the same now that you’re not
with me.
The sun and moon have lost their glow,
For it seems somehow they seem to know.
That you and I are far apart,
And along with you, you took my heart.
The birds still sing, but they’re out of tune,
And the roses all have lost their bloom.
The stars still shine in the sky at night,
But their brightness is lost to my unhappy plight.
For I love you still, and my sadness is strong,
I just wish I knew where it all went wrong.
I hope you remember the good times we had,
They always were happy, and very few bad,
So say you still care, and come back to me,
Then we’ll see the green grass, and the blue of the
sea.
Jan Imeson, Allington, Lincolnshire
ENDURANCE
If I’m unhappy it affects others I’ve
been told
So I have to paint a smile
And when I’m living in a fool’s paradise
It keeps me happy for a while
Until realism starts to creep through
We’re just going through the motions
But there’s little I can do
I can’t make you love me
I just keep hoping for the best
And keep plodding on through life’s greatest test.
C Rowley, Sandbach, Cheshire
THE EYES ARE THE MIRRORS OF THE SOUL
When I look into your eyes they are veiled in pain,
Will you see through this mist and be mine once again.
In a world of your own, no thought for life to cut yourself
Off from everyone.
I cry for our past happy days. Your lovely smiles to see,
The tears flow,
To know
Not when, you will kiss me
Once again.
Should I love you less now we are apart?
The sun warms my body,
But chilly is my heart.
Your love made me warm, and alive,
Now I have no love to give.
Iris Tennent, Barnoldswick, Lancashire
I LOVE TO WRITE
I love to write because
it’s exciting.
I love to write because it’s stimulating.
I love to write to express myself.
And to help me to write I collect books on a shelf.
I love to write when my favourite music is playing.
I love to write phrases I’ve heard people saying.
I have to write horror that is frightening.
Or romance.
Or seasonal.
Or a children’s story.
But too many rejections make it boring.
Rachel Van Den Bergen, Levenshulme, Greater Manchester
COMPREHENSION
The unseen is out there
The unheard is up there
But
You can’t hear it
You can’t speak to it
It is without you
When you have
You are alive
When you haven’t
You are dead
It causes you motion
It moves your emotions
It remains with you
To maintain you
Certain, it is
That it mingles
With the unseen
With the unheard
Belief in this is your comprehension
Disbelief in this is your apprehension
Anantha Rudravajhala, Middleton, Greater Manchester