Monday, 12 September 2016

Beards

Hairy chins
Curly chops
Scrubby stubble
Fluff face

Manly moustache
Matey bush
Bushy sideburns
Hairy Muff

Twiddle pointy
Handle bars
Up they curly
Down they droop

Full set navy
Chin strap guards
Goaty artist
Stubble brush

Van Dyke swanky
Verdi twirl
Balbo pointy
Bandaloz the works

Trimmed and tweaked
Saucered and blowed
Oiled and waxed
Good to go

One of two poems inspired by a visit to my local Barbers Shop

Alistair J Parker
12th September 2016




Monday, 8 August 2016

Walk by the River

Rustling grass
Waders call
Chatter swooping
Probing mud
Grassy banks
Muddy flats
Rotting wood
Of staging posts
Boats are lying
On the mud

River wanders
Flowing down
Ripples swirling
Flowing fast
Tranquil placid
Limpid pools
Sky reflected
Curling clouds
Stretching seaward
Round the bend

Trees bent over
Walking past
Muddy feet
Pick carful route
Peaceful stillness
Waving reeds
Grasses rattle
Sky lark sings
Peaceful river
Calms the soul

Inspired by listening to a programme on Radio 4 “Playing the Skyline” about composing music inspired by the River Tyne.

Alistair J Parker
8th August 2016

Saturday, 2 July 2016

You Walk Along the Sandy Beach

You walk along the sandy beach
The grains crunch nosily beneath your feet
They shout and rave before the wave
Crashes down and washes back
To turn them over upside down
To jumble up and down and down and up
Causing chaos every time the water rolls
Into a wave to wash along across the sandy beach
Waiting till the tide does turn to quiet again
So the grain can settle down to snuggle up
To flatten out with just a ripple to be seen
To see the sea along the shore stretch to the clouds
From sand to sky and way beyond the sea the shore
Footprints in the sand says someone but it says who
Scrunchy sand beneath their feet before
They go blown away or smoothed by sea
Like an acquaintance meant to fade
Not like a friend that’s there for ever
Cemented into rock that lasts and lasts
Weathered down by rain and wind
And sea washed waves into the grains that
Tumble round in waves and land upon the shore
Rearranged at every tide they come and go
Ground down and thrown up into dunes
To blow away as wind does blow to
Slip and slide and scrunch no more
Away from sea and into land
The sand of time is running out
We wander here and wander there
Going somewhere know not where
Walking onward into the sky
Like sea and sand and shore

Inspired by The Dong with the Luminous Nose – Edward Lear. I think it was the two lines in the first stanza that did it,
” When the angry breakers roar, As they beat on the rocky shore”

Alistair J Parker
2nd July 2016

Monday, 20 June 2016

The Twittering Turd

The twittering turd is brown and long
It pongs and poops and stinks and stuff
It’s not much use for much at all
Just waste and water brown and round
Long and firm or splashy thin
Flock of sparrows, pudgy firm
Twice round the pan know there’s a thing

Full of bugs and bits of stuff
Grains and grits and flaky bread
From the bum it drops with grace
To splash into the hallowed place
The place where turds go, who knows where
To twitter on like turds and birds
Who’s ever heard a twittering turd?

This came from one of those absurd thoughts that plops into one’s mind occasionally, well my mind, today it was the notion of a twittering turd, goodness knows why! Nothing to do with Twitter, although on the other hand...

Alistair J Parker
20th June 2016

Saturday, 18 June 2016

The Shipping Forecast


Portland, Plymouth Lundy's next
The Irish Sea is where we are
Gales are forecast North and West
Force 8 for now and 10 for later
Veering backing swinging round
Precipitation in the air
Good to moderate sometimes poor
Low Millibars means squally showers
Inshore off-shore gusting strong
Calm descending all around
Shipping forecast sailing by
Time to shut the eye and sleep
Back to counting woolly sheep

Inspired by hearing Alan Bennett reading the weather forecast on Radio 4 Today programme on Saturday 18th June 2016

Alistair J Parker
18th June 2016

Monday, 18 April 2016

The Art of Innocents

Innocence and sense of awe
The child mind links with hand and soul
To draw and paint without restraint
The inner thoughts of mind
Unrestrained and unconcerned
The soul is bared in marks
Marks that look so innocent yet
Hide deep thoughts and things
Profound and simple things
That can not be said in words

The marks they make are made with thought
And feeling from the heart
The good the bad the deepest woe
Come flooding out as marks
Marks that make no sense to us
But hide a hidden code
No mark is made for markings sake
They mean so much to them
The artist in the child we see
Their way to say what’s there

What’s there is there and needs to out
To make a mark with pen or paint
Releases hidden words, words we see not say
Because they mean so much to them
They have a need for art
To bare the soul and shout, or
Quietly contemplate a way to be
To understated what pictures mean to those
Who feel the need to make a mark
To have a voice that everyone can see

This poem was inspired by my recent experience as a creative art facilitator with a group of year one children (5 – 6 year olds) at St Johns RC School, Poulton le Fylde. I am grateful to them for helping me to see what only a child can see, the power of art.

Alistair J Parker
18th April 2016


Friday, 18 March 2016

My Friend the Radio

Radio the way to go
The sound that fills the day
Soothing sounds to chill the spine
Or songs that we all know
Listen when you’re on your own
A friend at any hour
When sleep is scarce a voice is there
To comfort and to share

Philosophy and comedy
Some-thing for every taste
DAB and FM who will win
The battle of the waves
The News today and every day
The Archers will enthral
Book at bedtime play for today
The plots come thick and fast

Desert islands discs and chat
Music everyday
Woman's hour I learn so much
And blush at what they say
Politicians prattle on
And try to get their way
On Today and every day
Far too much to say

Listen nodding sailing by
The Queen is on the way
Shipping forecast so precise
Ends another day
Radio you good old friend
I'm off to sleep for now
Hope I wake and you are there
You are a friend I (you) know

Inspired by James Massiah, poet and wordsmith in residence with Radio 4, and many years of listening to the radio, particularly in the wee small hours.

Alistair J Parker
18th March 2016