42 Reviews of my Childhood

42 REVIEWS OF MY CHILDHOOD

from a roman (sic) literary review

Suckling on her womanliness to pick some interesting lines,
these poems seem over-pruned.
The combination of physical beauty that links shaking bottoms
and Christianity disappears in verbal pictures,
glimpses between images and the laughter of the Cornish Riviera.
This sixth collection concerns the nude in poetry.
The author starts by the ocean as though arguing with the tide.
playing from between mischievous cobble stones.
I cannot trap the womb.
The author is in love with what the wind takes out of Scotland.
Thumbnail sketch parodies of this hysteric journey across my memories,
perhaps its silent way will reach far into their home again.
You only get glimpses between doorways —
it is perhaps a smooth surface,
a day for little guinea-pigs
even if you can display a good thick pile carpet,
feel the children's often half-hearted intentions,
deal with indecent exposure.
An entertaining short novel
but too many letters from scenes of running home
to the laughter of hills.
They are all our children consumed by double pneumonia.
His final poem deals with mundane-seeming events,
archetypes of Doctor Who and poetic paraphrases of hills.
Such sentiments all help to gain friends in Birmingham,
shared experiences of quitting the slimming programme.
The cat sulks by the fireside;
perhaps the cheery flame dispels the moonlight.

© Gerald England

Composed: Gee Cross, 4th April 1996

Publications

1997 International Poetry Supplement (USA)
2005 Outlaw (UK)

Starting Windows

STARTING WINDOWS

Birthday cake collapses from the end.
Compatibility rating is positive,
emotional and finds your point.
Your blind date turns out any problems you have.
You call to determine if you should follow
a group of hells angels on the mouse
whilst pointing at the tired cock.
The door tries to run FULL SCREEN.
For your convenience, take the city.
Your pet rock snaps at the pavement.
You go up and perhaps it fits better.
Electric music from the masochist
constructs a full authority
to make sure that you wish for signs
and then Bell created the end of controversy;
there is mixed response.
But I will find the icon.
Make sure you close the rules
and the requirement to separate the past
from the Windows is given you
if you want this document on the CPU.
You should conform to enhance publicity.
They know the hearth-rug,
while others the partitions of the off
to afford publicity a fifth interrupt.
I can't support you with the pudding pan.
Whither dost thou wander?
Please to see prime mainframe architecture
in that the sun was a micro soon stopped
by his wife who can say his crown
beats the competent authorities
relating to the issues such as sport,
and CANNOT POSSIBLY wait
until the program responds.
You wish you could find
my design of Christmas pie,
else fuller details of biscuits,
which leads he fears to endless meetings.

GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Gee Cross, 29th December 1992

Publications

1993 Dada Tennis (USA)
1994 International Poetry (USA)

Genesis Ver. 8.37

(Text not found - file format unreadable)

Composed: Gee Cross, 23rd August 1992

Publications

1993 International Poetry (USA)
1993 Endless Mountains Review (USA)

Experiments in Marginalisation

EXPERIMENTS IN MARGINALISATION

In other words stands the sonnet and rhythm.
To any distant star money and rhythm go.
In not quite literal sense-poetry
man is not the sequence of the philosophical tradition.
Poetry may remain just sounds
and his contemporaries discover that.
Of currency are old-fashioned notions to offer shelter
to incoherence reflecting the possibility
that so easily outstrips most poems.
Arbitrary lines don't stop now:
chopped into many changes over the rhythm of collage
more communal and before the shackles of paper,
this century poetry has grown heavy metal sounds.
The avant-garde is ancient -
the limerick, doubly marginal.
Beyond transgressions of intellectuality
apparently indistinguishable from its boiling point,
the philosophical tradition, the winnowing tray
of contexts whose members write poetry
but not necessarily a word, professionalised -
the language movement,
but experienced cake walkers are immune to the word,
the short-circuiting rhetoric of experimentation
and indecipherability, the meaning of thought
challenged in all walls of language.
Admittedly they have shares in the shrine.
Poetry may remain just as a few words chopped
into a demonstration of handlettered marginality.
Of course I'm going to mention the hoariest platitudes,
the rhythm of experimentation
where old-fashioned notions be opened,
the forms used here, and refluxed
so it might all have meaning.
Admittedly it was logically expected
that poetry could extrapolate a false picture,
so I'll provide beacons that after 70 margins loom.
Ineradicable prose poems principally exist
from over intellectuality and its purity.
She'd asked me write poetry that did not rhyme,
poetry that gave bloom to wax polemical.
There'd have been a less inhibited style
of tears swelling from the forms used here,
brains and the sonnet, rhyme and foul subject matter
the She could expand to write in a critical decorum.
Berated for her poems, perhaps they identify
themselves, display the twelve-tone music of her
language, quoting or imitating another poet's soul.
Don't smother the limerick, said the voice.
I want to express thoughts in a long noise
so I'll provide the abject object status of folksong,
unlike Pound's free-fall writing of Homeric epics...
always the cat will be drawn!
Might dissolves the patterns of life,
becomes the notebook in a word
no one could expand to change in their midst.
The edge in the scene of rhyme
and its reliance on the rest and tune are different.
There is a play-area,
not all around the regions of genreless writing;
movement avoids standardised typographical grids.

© Gerald England

Composed: Gee Cross, 25th July 1992

Publications

1993 TOPS The Toadbird (UK)
1994 International Poetry (USA)

Working to Rule

WORKING TO RULE

    Working to all of the rules is an impossible occupation

   Listen to the spokesperson
             from the union -
                     listen to what's said

   Pickets to the left
             Do not let the scabs get through
                     Pickets to the right

   STICK TOGETHER MEN
   STAND UP FOR ALL YOUR RIGHTS MEN
   WORKERS UNITED

   The journey
             is going to be long,
                     arrival brief

   Breaker, breaker,
   It's time to stop for food
   At Smoky Joe's

   sausage and mash and sweet tea

   Ahead the long night
             hoping for dawn in Scotland,
                     snow falling on Shap

   Convoy of lorries
   following council snowplough -
   salt turns to green slush

   steam rising
             raised voices cursing
                     burst radiator

   hitch-hikers kiss
             their road ends and starts
                     at Gretna Green

   reflected
             in the wing-mirror
                     low-flying jet

   we are here
             now

   i know where i am
   or i know where i'm going
   but never know both

   notoriously bad months
             conditions can be terrifying
                     rear fog lights

   moors stretch to hills
             behind the peeling fence
                     sheep bleat

   fists fly
             at the transport cafe
                     on the pinball game

   ^^^^^^^^^^^
   ~~~~~~~~~%%%%%%
   \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/

   Lights on the highway
   Shine their truest
   At the crossroads

   motorway bridge cracked
             three days to move
                     the concrete

   clones of cones
             realign lanes

   At level crossings
   Trains on the straight track
   Needn't stop

   miles beyond the road
             the walker settles to sleep
                     in the bothy

   behind castle walls
             the laird with his brandy
                     in the library

   the wild Highland stag
             silhouetted 'gainst full moon
                     raises his antlers

   after the wind
             in the whispering wood
                     silence

   The faster we go
   The later we arrive
   If at all

   hope springs eternal
             soaps sing internally
                     dead springs snap

   I saw the North wind
   heard the sun rise in the West
   touched the waxing moon

   Angels float on high
             guard the true believers
                     bring them safely home

   The rats of commerce
             rip and rape and pillage
                     in the urban war

   October gale -
             strong tall elm is laid low
                     willow merely bends

   Ice on the bird-bath
             No bread thrown for the tits
                     Monday-morning blues

   DC-10 IN SKY
             CARS CRASH DOWN FROM TOY GARAGE
                     LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!

   Dirty derelict
             derricks - determination
                     decaying, dying

   ah-ah
             the final whistle sounds
                     we finish our work

© Gerald England

Composed: Gee Cross, 7th March 1992

Publication

1997 International Poetry Supplement (USA)

(g8)

half a mile downwind
the cigarette factory
stench of tobacco

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Hyde, 9th October 1991

Publication

1992 International Poetry (USA)

tanka 5

Sailing on the Dee
we talked of former lovers,
shared new memories;
in rooms not far from the Zoo
animal passions cried out.

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Gee Cross, 24th August 1991

Publications

1992 Bare Bones (UK)
1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)
1993 New Hope International Writing (UK)
1994 Lo Straniero (Italy)
1994 WIND FIVE FOLDED (Gualala, AHA Books)
2001 IN THE SHIP'S WAKE (North Shields, Iron Press)

*****
Velejando no Dee
falamos de antigos amantes
compartilhamos novas memorias
em lugares nao muito longe do zoologico
as paixoes animais gritam

GERALD ENGLAND

Translated by Teresinka Pereira

Publications

1992 International Poetry (USA)
1993 New Hope International Writing (UK)

(g4)

i've noticed a few
stray greys for some time - autumn
draws near in my beard

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Gee Cross, 1st August 1990

Publication

Next Exit (Canada)

*****

Notei alguns fios brancos
ja algum tempo atras. O outono
vai chegando a minha barba.

GERALD ENGLAND

translated by Teresinka Pereira

Publication

1992 International Poetry (USA)

Nidderdale

NIDDERDALE

Bedraggled daffodils line the lanes
unnerved by April snows.
Only the curlew crying on the fell,
the short-eared owl stationed on his post,
know that summer still will come
as surely as the growing lambs will go.

By the lake where a myriad mosquitos hum,
only the bravest rabbit boasts
of the ability to foretell
how strong will be the wind's abuse,
how many elms will no longer grow
to offer shelter to the homeless crow.

© Gerald England

Composed: Ripley Castle, 23rd April 1989

Publications

1991 Hybrid (UK)

1991 Owen Wister Review (USA)

1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)

1992 International Poetry (USA)

2000 NO CHOICE BUT TO TRUST (Pittsburgh, UnMon America)

2006 Other Voices (Internet)

Ballade of Halley's Comet

BALLADE OF HALLEY'S COMET

Away from all the city lights
With binoculars skyward scanned
Up on hills where the cold wind fights
And tries to get the upper hand,
Frozen and all alone I stand.
Below the Pleiades I stare,
Hoping I can see that firebrand -
Oh, Halley's Comet, are you there?

I've seen some meteorites -
Shooting stars over the moorland -
The moving lights of satellites,
And once when on the Rio Grande
A full eclipse of sun was planned
I saw it well, I do declare,
But now this answer I command -
Oh, Halley's Comet, are you there?

I have searched all these starry nights
Like Customs after contraband.
In nineteen-ten you reached the heights
With tail stretching to Samarkand.
Towards you spacecraft head unmanned
With computer programmed software
To analyse and understand -
Oh, Halley's Comet, are you there?

ENVOI

Prince, will its tail this time expand
So I can see this sight, so rare,
I'll go to any distant strand ?
Oh, Halley's Comet, are you there?

© Gerald England

Composed:  Ashton under Lyne, 25th November 1985

Publications

1989 New Hope International (UK)
1990 International Poetry Suplemento (USA)
1999 Romanian Contemporary Astropoetry (Romania)

*****

BALADA COMETEI HALLEY (I)

Departe de toate luminile orasului

Cu binocluri scanand salonul cerului

Sus pe dealuri unde vantul rece lupta

Si incearca sa obtina mana absoluta,

Inghetat si singur am stat,

Sub Pleiade am privit fix,

Sperand sa pot vedea ace taciune de foc-

O, cometa Halley, acolo esti?

Gerald England

translated into Romanian by Andrei Dorian Gheorghe.

Publications

2001 Pasi spre infinit (Romania)

2003 SARM (Internet)

Churchill Barriers, Orkney

               CHURCHILL BARRIERS, ORKNEY

               Going to Glimps Holm
               the mast of a sunken ship
               still rises offshore,
               a rusty reminder
               of how this road was built,
               linking islands,
               bringing peace to Scapa Flow.

               In men's minds
               are the barriers to peace,
               separating lands,
               alienating people;
               but the barriers to war
               support roads,
               join people together.

               © GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: off Fair Isle, 8th August 1985

Publications

1986 International Journal on World Peace (USA)
1990 International Poetry (USA)
1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)

Status Quo

STATUS QUO

Re-listening to sixties' protest songs
recalling fledgling dreams.
We thought then if folk would only hear
the world's ways would change
in a revolution of peace and love.

Our mono records revolve on turntables
engineered for stereophonic sound.
Deafened by and deaf to heavy metal
we wonder how much our sons
will do to change their parents' world.

© Gerald England

Composed: Ashton under Lyne, 12th December 1984

Publications


1986 Folio (UK)
1988 International Poetry (USA)
1989 A POEM FOR DADDY (Whitby, Canada, Plowman)
1991 Sacrifice The Common Sense (USA)
1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)
1997 Grape (Internet)
2008 Ackworth born, gone West (Internet)

Craig

           CRAIG

           Craig is three now

           Last year he climbed
           the height of the
           Giant's Causeway

           Today he crossed
           in wave-sprayed boat
           to Staffa and probed
           the depths of Fingal's Cave

           Craig is handicapped

           In one year
           he has crossed
           the Giant's sea
           from Ulster to the Hebrides

           How many years
           will he take
           to climb other heights
           probe other depths
           cross that other sea
           others label "normallacy" ?

           © GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Fionnphort, 3rd August 1984

Publications

1984 New Hope International (UK)
1984 International Biographical Centre Magazine (UK)
1984 Boyds Walk Newsletter (UK)
1986 FUTURES (Ipswich, Magic Pen Press)
1987 White Rose Magazine (UK)

*****

Portuguese translation by Teresinka Pereira

Text not to hand.

Publication

1985 International Poetry (USA)

The Visit

 THE VISIT

              It told us nothing

              we didn't already know

              not that we had

              admitted everything -

              our worst fears

              at best confirmed -

              Despite all

              the proffered help

              for persistence,

              parental perspicacity,

              percipient patience,

              pertinacious power,

              positive pleasure,

              predicative precision,

              purposeful progress

              and prudence

              there are no substitutes

              In the end

              we are alone

              yet before the end

              there are thoughts

              to share

              burdens to burn

              in the fire

              of loving friendship

              We are all in it together

              pacing our parallel paths.

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ashton under Lyne, 9th September 1981

Publication

1994 International Poetry (USA)

Child

CHILD

Child, you were nourished nine months
while your mother grew
Skilfully you were removed from that home

Child, tube-fed in an incubator,
you would not learn to suck
till illness and hunger forced

Child, you lived and fought three weeks
resisting pain, refusing death
till in the end your heart gave way

Child, you gave us three and a half weeks
of memories our minds will cherish
long after the tears have dried

Child, we are happy you came to us
We praise God for the joy you brought
into all of our lives

Child, beneath the soil of your little garden
you have staked for us a place
in the cemetery we love

Child, you only saw faces masked
and women who wore white aprons
outside your oxygenated hot-house

Child we don't know the reason
why you came but only thank you
that you came

Child, our child, our first, we pray
remember us with love as now you sleep
We who remain awake remember you

© Gerald England

Composed: Oldham, 25th October 1975

Publications

1976 MEETINGS AT THE MOOR'S EDGE (West Kirkby, Headland)
1976 Pennine Platform (UK)
1977 Compassionate Friends Newsletter (UK)
1990 International Poetry Suplemento (USA)

Beyond The Sun

BEYOND THE SUN

Beyond the sun
beyond Andromeda
beyond the black holes of the Anti-Thou
in the white light of eternity
our souls will mate
You sit beside me in the car
The slow policeman
whom I dare to overtake
on the motorway
is en route to a rugby match
I do not know who won or lost
There is fog on the tops
returning
This time I do not dare
to overtake
I put my trust in the eternal Thou
And beyond the sun
or in an upstairs room
I am not afraid of the Anti-Thou
I shall continue the journey
with you beside me
We shall proceed
protected
travelling at a safe speed
We shall fall into no black holes
In the white light of eternity
our souls will mate

© Gerald England

Composed: Sheffield, 12th February 1974

Publications

1994 International Poetry (USA)
1997 Dark Planet (Internet)

The Unresting

THE UNRESTING

And it was his grief that kept him travelling
There were resting places -
some that he could still direct himself to
He enumerated them on the fingers of his hands
but they all lay now beyond his reach
He had run out of fuel
He had lost the will to restart the journey
Besides it wasn't the time of the year for travelling
It also wasn't the time of the year for sorrow
He could move
only within himself
and dying in isolation
he lived

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Sheffield, 2nd December 1973

Publications

1988 Waterways (USA)
1989 The Affiliate (Canada)
1992 STEALING KISSES (Hyde, New Hope International)

*****
A PERTUBACAO

E foi sua tristeza que o manteve viajando
E hava lugares para descansar
para alguns dos quais ele ainda podia ir.
Ele os contava nos dedos de suas maos
mas eles estavam todos fora de seu alcance agora.
Ele perdei suas energias
e seu desejo de sair.
Alen de tudo ainda nao era tempo de viajar este ano.
Ele podia mover-se apenas dentro de si mesmo
e morrendo isoladamente
ele viveu.

Translated by TERESINKA PEREIRA.

Publication

1986 International Poetry (USA)

The Way of the Brave

THE WAY OF THE BRAVE

I knew of your visit to the blacksmith
but did not guess the purpose of your purchase
He did a fine job,
mild steel tempered on an ancient anvil,
sharpened until the edge was no more than a micron thick
It was when you almost blinded me
with the sun's rays reflected in its shimmering blade
that I sensed the symbolism of the sword
There wasn't any need for you to speak
There wasn't any use for me to flee
I've left a bloody stain upon its blade
but you can smile
still in the condemned cell,
unafraid,
without the sword with which you murdered me

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Ackworth, 22nd January 1973

Publications

1973 Pennine Platform (UK)
1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press)
1990 International Poetry Suplemento (USA)

The Worst of Loneliness

THE WORST OF LONELINESS

Loneliness is not something that is difficult to bear
alone It's only when there is someone else who's there
and you know it's something that you cannot share
It's worse when you feel it in a kiss
Loneliness is not something that is hit or miss
The impulse is going off at a tangent
There are two of them They touch but don't impact
That's the hardest fact
the potency of a force that's merely impinging
never cutting through ice
or cracking that nice
but transparent facade that always fails to impress
Once you have it there's no escape It's all duress
Facing the wall won't relieve the stress
Loneliness alone is not so hard to bear
but it's all the worse to share
with an intimate caress

© Gerald England

Composed: Sheffield, 11th November 1971

1974 New Headland (UK)
1980 THE RAINBOW AND OTHER POEMS (Heckmondwyke, Fighting Cock Press)
1992 International Poetry (USA)
1993 Dial 174 (USA)

Poem for a Poet

POEM FOR A POET

her silkhair flowed like her words
her laughter rang clear as the sound of her words
her eyes pierced the sorrow of her words
her poise was wordform
the poem was the poet
and the poet became the poem

© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Sheffield, 20th October 1971

Publications

1972 THE WINE THE WOMEN AND THE SONG (Pyle, Kenfig Press)
1973 Datr (UK)
1990 International Poetry Suplemento (USA)