TYNESIDE POETS!

TYNESIDE POETS!

Monday 23 February 2015

TREVOR TEASDEL - TEESSIDE DYNAMO

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Thursday 19 February 2015

MORE TEESSIDE POETRY: ROBERT LONSDALE
























Photo by Peter Dixon










Life Through An Elastic Band

Elastic bands young and strong, thick and thin, short or long,
Woven tightly band by band, strand by strand,
Around unknown objects of random sizes,
Carefully laid out on wooden tables for all the world to see;
Precisely placed before changing seasons raging wrath
Compels each stretching band to wane then snap,
Yielding to the striking of an invisible clock,
Until one by one they reveal the hidden fabric at their heart.
Was I hated or mistrusted?,
Was I loved and did I love?,
Was I honourable or unjust?,
Was I faithful or did I lust?,
If I lived, did I let live?,
Did I believe or hide behind doubt?,
Is it all meaningless at the setting of the Sun?,
Will my Soul rise again?,
What is left when I have gone?
Universal wonder taken to an early grave,
Leaving a half written epitaph that does not tell it well for you.
Only the erosion of restraining bands 
can write those final truths that bound each elastic band
to life’s remorseless clock,
Silently ticking as an owl in flight, compelling remaining bands to wane then snap,
Bringing back, the long dead artist’s dream, Part Two,
To fulfilment and eternal life.


Robert Lonsdale





My Best Friend


Without much fuss,
death's cold hand knocked upon our door,
and took away my Mother.
I who remains am told to be strong, 
move on, shed no tears,
celebrate instead her good life.
Machismo advice, sensible but temporal,
helps cope with her passing,
fond memories too soon become sweet and everlasting,
held together via handshakes and hugs
Until earth becomes earth and ashes become ashes.
Cheerless rhymes accompany her into the icy cold ground
on beloved Christmas Eve
While her adult son plummets headlong into meltdown.
Night night and God bless,
I still miss that goodnight kiss.
I will never get used to this
wretched void
where once my best friend stood.





Robert Lonsdale



Saving The Shannon

The innocent river Shannon ripples along,
minding its own business, blissfully unaware
of the impending threat it has to face
from the unscrupulous corporate fist
that intends to drain so much
of what it’s got.
A sucking siphon, inserted into the river's mass,
ensures a tidy profit when the level drops;
all done in the name of progress.
Another murderous blade stabs into ecology’s heart,
bringing the doomsday prophecy another toxic step closer.
The Shannon cannot defend itself alone
against this planned onslaught,
it needs some friends now, more than ever before.
And the old men along its busy banks say:
“If Che were here today, he would save the Shannon
in the good old revolutionary way.”
But Che has had his day
and the time is now!
Limerick people have to act fast
if the beloved Shannon is to remain intact.
A dreadful fate lies in wait,
No more time to waste,
hesitate or procrastinate:
unite, rise to this fight,
prevent another environmental disaster from taking place I
in this land of emerald green hope.



Robert Lonsdale
(from Anthology for a River, Limerick 2012)





ROBERT LONSDALE:

Robert has had much of his poetry published and also broadcast on local B.B.C. Radio where he was involved with one of their weekly evening programmes for many years featuring local poets.
He set up and organised "The Write Room" on Teesside which provided an opportunity for poets/writers to read, share and perform their work to an audience.
He has also compiled and edited a book of his own poems and performed at many venues across the North East of England.
He has written, produced and directed two short films called, "For Those Who Sit And Wait" and "Ya Joking Aren't Ya?", both of which have been featured in many film festivals including Teesside University’s "Concept" film night.
He recently wrote a stage play which highlighted the closure of the Corus Steel Mill. This was successfully performed by an acting company both at the Arc Arts Centre in Stockton and on stage in Middlesbrough. His latest writing project is an hour long television drama which has been submitted to the B.B.C.
He has performed at the "On the Nail" poetry venue in Limerick, Ireland and a poem of his is featured in the recent River Shannon anthology the launch of which he attended in Limerick.


Friday 13 February 2015

Revisiting No Return - New From Dave Alton




Revisiting No Return

Carry
This coin of the world
In a purse of lips
While the Great North Road
Runs bothered by an angel
As river wrung from coal seams
As coal seams wrought in candle wax
As candle wax written by brothers
As brothers riven through bridges
As bridges rolled along slipways
As slipways routed with sharp tongues
As sharp tongues wrestled to the Quayside
Drinking of beer
Stinking of beer
In the beaks of kittiwakes
On the feathered backs of promises
Peaked these long-long years passed
Glistering enough to be pecked over
By deluded magpies
Even before the final autumn
Fall from Newcastle




Dave Alton 

Saturday 7 February 2015

I WILL SING OF MY OWN NEWCASTLE




I WILL SING OF MY OWN NEWCASTLE

sing of my home city
sing of a true geordie heart
sing of a river swell in me
sing of a sea of the canny
sing of the newcastle day

sing of a history of poetry
sing of the pudding chare rain 
sing of the puddles and clarts
sing of the bodies of sailors
sing of the golden sea

sing of our childrens’ laughter
sing of the boats in our eyes
sing of the bridges in sunshine
sing of the fish in the tyne
sing of the lost yards and the pits 

sing of the high level railway
sing of the love in my face
sing of the garths and the castle
sing of the screaming lasses
sing of the sad on the side

sing of the battles’ remains
sing of the walls round our dreams
sing of the scribblers and dribblers
sing of the scratchers of livings
sing of the quayside night

sing of the kicks and the kisses
sing of the strays and the chancers
sing of the swiggers of ale
sing of the hammer of memory
sing of the welders’ revenge

sing of a battered townscape
sing of a song underground
sing of a powerless wasteland
sing of a buried bard
sing of the bones of tom spence

sing of the cocky bastards
sing of a black and white tide
sing of the ferry boat leaving
sing of cathedral bells crying
sing of the tyneside skies

sing of my mother and father
sing of my sister’s kindness
sing of the hope in my stride
sing of a people’s passion
sing of the strength of the wind 


KEITH ARMSTRONG