A Poem for Thursday..."The loss".

We thought
That maybe we had lost her
On the day
They blew up the BBC building
In the middle of the city.
Her office
With it's ancient glass roof
Abutted the back wall.
Saving the Company
A need
To make her office more substantial.
Safer.
She never complained.
She was a lady who lunches.
And so it was on that day.
Though no thanks to the army
Who didn't like to make their way
Down the darkened alley
Into her lonely room.
Only the jolly aunt called
Before the detonator blew it all up
And gave her the..."Let's go Mary".

We thought
That maybe we had lost him
On the day
They targeted children
Near MacDonalds on Bridge Street.
He was selling his cheery mugs
announcing
"Mum"
And
"Nana"
And all those other titles in between,
Hawking his wares
In the shopping mall.
But the second bomb was at Boots
Where the children had run for safety.
So it missed him.
And he
Jolly as ever,
Found solace in the Town Hall
Where his son discovered him later.
And with northern canniness
Shrugged and said
"Glad you're safe dad".

A Poem for Thursday

He digs
as if
all
of his future
depends on it.
Scathing
of his older sister.
Dismissive
of her attempts
 to find
depth.

She creates
 pretty sandcastles.
Decorates them
with shells.
And makes
a beach garden
around them.

He
 has no time
for that.
For life is
too short.

And men must work.

This is linked to dVerse open link night anniversary week. A great site for poets!

The River Irwell

So...did old Lowry sit beside the fluss?
and did he think I'll paint that lot one day?
or did he only see the children run
 barefoot across the stinking bank
toward their Salford homes
to pray for hotpot on the stove.

Did Lowry hear about the one who'd had enough
when times were thin and thinness was in vogue?
who sank into the mud and stayed in it
between the empty prams and beery glass?
is that the reason Lowry stayed so long
when he had reasons of his own to up and go?.

They called his people... matchsticks...that they were
such skinny children, all of them unknown.
they've planted trees now where there once were weeds
and the river's rancid  smells are sanitised.
proud Irwell once the Roman's northern fort
now has the cache of Lowry's tender daubs.

L.S.Lowry the painter lived in Salford near the Irwell River.
Today we took our granddaughter to see the art in The Whitworth Gallery, and passed by the River now all clean and pretty , My friend grew up within the shadow of the factory buildings that Lowry painted and knew the scenes as home.
Much of Lowry's work now hangs in The Lowry Gallery on the banks of the Manchester Ship Canal

This is for Magpie Tales 116

                                                                   and Poetry Pantry 99

I'm also adding this in to this week's poetry pub for dVerse.week 43...what fun!

A Poem for Thursday

A child's innocence about the death of a bird...
..." did it have a good funeral?...how many people went to it?...did you go grandma?....why not?...."
..."It was too cold!"...

So I wrote this for the poetry group at Clair's Cake Shop...

Death by Soap and Water.

Winter slopes by

and the windows

are dimmed with grit.

A rising sun

brings renewed energy

and soap and water works.

Each day more light

and the spirit soars.

How do the birds know

on a bitter January day,

that homes must be built

and partners encouraged?

Soap and water works

on grimey winter windows,

and the song of the birds

gets louder.

The glass glistens...

"Begone damn spots",

all is clear now.

Then

I hear the crash

and view the scraps

of feathers, beak,

legs and bone.

Deceived by soap and water.

destroyed by a housewife's obsession. 

The above painting was in an old copy of Irish Arts and I can't remember who painted it....

...if any one knows maybe they can let me know.

I think it very tender.

I've linked this in to dVerse poets but can't find where to comment so just hope that it is found...
soooo untechie it's not true!!

On Not Being Political

[one for the Gooseberry Garden Poetry Picnic week 15]

On the Issue of "Strike One for Britain"

Today the dead kept dying
Though funeral directors were at home.
Today the children kept learning
Though  there were teachers in Costa Coffee.
Today the weather kept happening
Though the forecasters had left the building.
Today people once again became ill
Though the theatres were not operating at full stretch.
Today most of the job centres were open
Though sadly few of them were offering jobs.

And today the sun shone.
And today children went to the cinema.
And today the coffee shops were full.
And today there were only twenty four more shopping days left to panic over.

[This is no political criticism...simply that life goes on...oh well maybe that there are very few jobs coming up in the job centres...I'll admit that!]