guest contributions
A HIGHER RESURRECTION (by John Kinane)
I think I'm going to die, I'm not playing at bravado or ego
I'm sure you understand, that fate has changed this hand
With eviction, abandonment, and sandpipers.
Have faith in me mother, reverential wonder will infuse the seeds
I'm sure you understand, the decade is stronger than the beads
With protest, prayer and torture.
Though I'm not around to fight, I have captured hearts and souls
You were never going to break me, and I was right
And we will be happy once again
Let me hear the sounds of joy and gladness, though you have crushed me and broken me
I will rise again from argent sadness
And we will be happy once again
Wait, there still is awe
For ablution by the soul
Wash away the hue
Man, my spiritual friend
Is transfigured from above
Guardian of my tears
Come we'll walk the path
To our destiny
Keep outside the night
The eternal one has come
To decorate our creed
And each, will find a shrine
And there will still be time
For loving my friend
Mark Yakes has been writing poetry and composing music for over thirty years. He has been a professional musician, music teacher, community arts worker, singer songwriter and recording artist. He has even invented his own 5 string guitar! leere were fortunate enough to work with Mark on the 2005 album 'Compassionate Ride'. Check out below some of Mark's poems from over the years (....and this 'YouTube' link with Mark sharing his array of talents : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1Zucoq1vGg )
THE YELLOW BUS (by Mark Yakes)
When lovers kiss
A yellow bus should go past
It's passengers, all trained acrobats
Should have candy-floss hair
Pink, blue
Or green: for in-between
Amidst the streamers, and champagne bubbles
Of the upper deck
They should somersault, tango and reel
Whilst, down below
Plasticine unicorns
Fashioned from a store of magic clay
Found in the conductor's locker
Come to life!
Bounding rainbow arc trails
From seat to seat
As the dancers spin their feet
Beat by beat
In the yellow bus
That should go past
When lovers kiss
WHEN THE LIGHTS GO ON (by Mark Yakes)
When the lights go on
And the clocks begin
Do they mix all the bits in a random tin?
And then start us up with a foolish grin
And say: "Find a way out of this"
And do we set to explore in our suits of pink
'Till we come to the edge of the precipice brink
Does the brink explode?
Do explorers sink?
Do we give ourselves head
As we tumble, tumble, tumble
Through the drink?
How are we so elastic?
Look how we form in bands
Is the way that we dance dictated
By the clapping of other's hands?
Or do we meet up with trusty Sherpas
Leaning against the wind
Do the clocks go ever onward?
Do the lights go finally dim?
PLAYTHINGS (by Mark Yakes)
Playthings and Paradoxes
Pandora’s boxes
Secrets with hidden drawers
Hypnotists and Unicyclists
Mirrored rooms with strange devices
Ceilings where there really should be floors
WORDS (by Mark Yakes)
Words are things to play with
Bright, white, light…
Quickens the pulse with rhyme athunder
Gypsy’s knives and conqueror’s plunder
Folds of clothes with torches burning
Crisp as icy skater’s turnings
Letters formed like Gallic roses
Blue desires acurl like hoses
Cusped arches, heliosynths
Architraves with Dorian plinths
Masons’ chisels, pens, dividers
Melodies that soar like gliders
Over views of evening skies
As rich and dark as blackberry pies
THE LETTER G (by Mark Yakes)
Take a train to Gloucester
Take it while you can
Before the first of April
Which is when they start the ban
'Cos the government's decided
{As governments sometimes will}
To introduce a new
And highly controversial bill
It's called the "Bill of Letters"
The moderates were appalled
To find that all who disobeyed
To prison would be hauled
But now it's been agreed on
And now they have decreed
To make illegal anything
That starts with the letter G
They'll start with Gypsies, Greeks and Gaels
And Galleons and Gangs
And then move on to Gammon Steaks
And Garden Gates and Grans
Then Green and Grey and Gold and Gay
And all that's Great and Grand
And Gifted, Gentle, Generous and Gracious
Will be banned
But it's for the best! It's your request!
They’ll slyly let us know
As Gobs and Gits and Guano shits
Are seen to go below
But Galleries of Galaxies?
Gazelles and Gulls and Geese?
Ghosts and Goats and Gyroscopes?
You'll have to tell the police:
"We start with G, we cannot lie
For G is what we are..."
And then get charged and carted off
To prisons dark and far
And Gamma Rays from Gallifrey
Globes with Glasses in
Giantess's Genitals
Giggles, Groans and Grins
Gremlins, Goths and Goblin Moths
And Gorse and Grouse and Gnomes
Will have to find their ways
Without their families friends and homes
Writers will be flummoxed...
Painters will be too...
Imagine all those still-lives
Without the things that Grew
And Gradually and Grimly
We'd all of us forget
That something was missing
In the G-man's safety net
But maybe they'll be thwarted
In all they plan to do
To stifle all these things
That simply came alive and grew
'Cos as they try to make us all
So G-less, clean and swell
They might, in error, wipe out
Guns and Governments as well
Singer/Songwriter, Poet and Performer Eamonn Harvey has released a number of albums and written pieces over the last 25 years. He explores a range of themes in his work from storytelling, the importance of musical heroes, life as a school teacher (....and he's worked in a few!) and from within his own precious Celtic heritage. We are delighted to share some of Eamonn's work here at leere.co.uk. Best Wishes Eamonn!
Tiofadh An Sambradh (Summer will come) by Eamonn Harvey
Sing,Softly,Sing a Song of Sad Farewell
Jingle,Jangle,Joyful small dips in the Wishing Well
Sleep a sleep of peace my love
Summer will come
Again
'Vignettes’ by Eamonn Harvey
Riding on the Dolmus up to Kabak...through Faralya and Yuva
I look at the gentle,smiling faces and think of you
How you would have been enchanted by the view
And the visit to Attila’s for Tahini and Sage tea
And up into the hills in the arid heat
The little Dolmus winds its way...each and every day..up this mountain road...where I stand alone....incomplete
Subtle,Stickleback, Stowlangtoft, Suffolk West
Across the bridge of childhood rests
Old rooks rise above the Elms and Sheepy Droves
Memories of Lucky Dips from George Tuck’s sweetshops long since gone
And Auntie Peg’s flint cottage standing so forlorn
Gentle Lanes lead me on to figments of my boyhood dreams
The orchard where I tempted fate in a derelict,deserted Morris 8
And watched the keeper with his gun—where pigeons fell crimson blood chested—at the time it seemed such fun
Now these dreams all seem to diminish---the man I have since become
Beautiful country----Ireland of Dreams
My home in the Comeraghs—mist softening fields
Turf-fired evenings---Bunmahon Strand
Kittiwakes soaring—holding your hand
My sense of belonging at last is instilled
My own Anam cara-at peace and fulfilled’
THE FACTORY ACADEMY (by John Kinane)
When they step out to the other side
Make sure they are the models described
Obedient and clean, just as prescribed
Trust in the academy production line
Value added and progressed tracked
Fit for purpose, packaged and stacked
Teacher……………“Stick to the template”
No matter what
Don’t motivate or deviate
Remember the plot
No individuality
Charisma or flair
Cut out the humour
Pretend you care
It’s a grand parade of inane individuals
Processed and classified with positive residuals
Ready for use in our brave new worlds
Trust in the academy production line
Institutionalised bullying stereotyped lies
Dehumanised products no light in their eyes
Teacher……………“Stick to the template”
No matter what
Don’t motivate or deviate
Remember the plot
No individuality
Charisma or flair
Cut out the humour
Pretend you care
If the factories performance shows invention
They will come under scrutiny through inspection
If inspiration is used you will get intervention
Trust in the academy production line
A new linear structure uniform on time
Schooled factory primed and sublime
Teacher……………“Stick to the template”
No matter what
Don’t motivate or deviate
Remember the plot
No individuality
Charisma or flair
Cut out the humour
Pretend you care
So here we are at the factory gates
Select and synthesise your class awaits
A generation of clones produced by the state
Trust in the academy production line
For you knew it would always be fine
When you sell your autonomy right on time
Teacher……………“Stick to the template”
No matter what
Don’t motivate or deviate
Remember the plot
No individuality
Charisma or flair
Cut out the humour
Pretend you care
HUMILITY (by Dom Hanway)
In the face of adversity it takes great strength
In the face of stupidity your work is at length
For a fool who thinks he always knows better
Who will wake up one day wrong and however
Will realise that he just might never
Possibly have it any better,
Full of kindness and understanding,
It will lead you to shattered,
For someone who thinks that sometimes things don't matter,
It's tried and its tested
What else can there be
Let me say it's....
From someone who will always love….
Your precious humility.
SHADOWS (by Dan Ingram)
Troubles wear down my mind
Through the storms we call life
But I knew you were with me
I felt you hold me tight
We're all going somewhere
But now I'm neither here nor there
I feel lost, in the crowd alone
As a tear trickles from my eye
I can't believe
What life can do
When I lost myself in losing you
I don't believe
I'll ever see
Someone of such beauty
In all my life
But I'm never far from you
You always pull me through
When the storms break my mind and my body
My shadow will hold on
UNTITLED (by Chris White)
Walking along a familiar path, through a familiar air.
Walls stand tall but do not forebode, these are the walls of home.
From the deepest of oceans, the light of a million stars comes to rest in the windows of a soul.
Pausing for a sparkle...
then back to the race,
a memory of the heavens moves on.
An intense spark of life in the passing of forever, bearer of a gift much maligned.
For “Insignificant” is an ugly word, we all become part of the celestial shroud.
That memory which lingered so gracefully in our eyes took a piece of us on its flight through the sky.
Walking along a familiar path, through a familiar air.
Light-years from here and now, thoughtful eyes look up at a million stars.
Pausing for a sparkle...
Our memory moves on.
Fusing another soul to the sky.
READING THE LANGUAGE OF LIGHT (for Vanessa)
No single day will unfold
Without the voice of the woman you know
Without her hold
Over your heart, over your head
Let her carry you in new ways, by whisper
At any moment
It will come
No sunny day will pour out its stream of light
Without the spark of the mother you know
Without her hold
Over your heart, over your head
Let her carry you in new ways, by promise
At any minute
It will come
In the days of an obvious love
You will mark the future with your own stride
Unravelling genius and genetic tides
You will read it
You will read it
In the days of an obvious love
You will mark the future in your own time
Unravelling genius and genetic tides
You will read it
You will read it
No single night will unfold
Without the voice of the woman you know
Without her hold
Over your heart, over your bed
Let her stir you in new ways, in winter, in summer
At any hour
It will come
For no sunlit day will shine out its brightest light
Without the spark of the mother you know
Without her hold
Over your heart, over your head
Let her reach you in new ways, in song
At any hour
It will come
It will come
In the days of an obvious love
You will mark the future with your own stride
Unravelling genius and genetic tides
You will read it
You will read it
In the days of an obvious love
You will mark the future in your own time
Unravelling genius and genetic tides
You will read it
You will read it
Read her name
Behind cloud
A language that is all light
She holds you by the brightest light
Here it comes
……mit Flustern, Versprechen, Winter, Sommer und Gesang
-Yes, whisper, promise, winter, summer and song -
Near the sea
Share in it
Every season
You will read it
You will read it
SIDNEY DAVIS - BAKER AND CONFECTIONER (by Stephen Vaughan Williams)
Sidney Davis – Baker and Confectioner too
A kinder man I never knew.
Kneading dough into the baking tin,
Onto the shovel and into the red, hot oven, thrown within.
Cousin George, with marzipan the cake is covered,
And sprinkled over with icing sugar.
Lettie, Sidney’s wife, taking care of front of shop.
A red-haired beauty, Cousin Pam,
A place where Ringo, George, Paul and Lennon knew,
Were passing notes to Pamela the bakery through.
Lettie would do the sums,
As all four Beatles bought penny bran buns.
Epstein would call and talk to Cousin George,
About the Beatles’ ploys and foys.
Ken Dodd stayed not so far away,
Where Leita Rose worked and played.
George Formby’s house was open shop,
For many a being, in to drop.
Not far away was Lark Lane,
Which heightened the gateway to Liverpool’s fame.
But where the bakery did once stand,
On Princes Park, upon a corner lot,
Now stands a big house upon this plot.
These memories must be written in poetry, for history’s sake.
For many a budding artist, star, to name a few,
Came to Sidney Davis – Baker and Confectioner too
A kinder man I never knew.
CLOUD ACTIVITY ( by John Kinane)
Little pretty candy floss cloud
Where are you going all cuddly and proud
With your twinkly shapes and white smoke
Wandering wispy with no sound or note
Little pretty
Puffy cloud
Dancing through
The light so loud
Glowing in the Brightening haze
What ever happened to Our silver days
But I’m sure I hear you on the stratus waves
Across the wings where the alto plays
In the direction of the northern sky
Floating light with cirrus high
Little pretty
Puffy cloud
Dancing through
The light so loud
Glowing in the Brightening haze
What ever happened to Our silver days
At night do you smother up tight
And play with the moon and others bright
Or do you flatten out and become a bed
Or play with the other clouds instead
Little pretty
Puffy cloud
Dancing through
The light so loud
Glowing in the Brightening haze
What ever happened to Our silver days
And when the sun shines across your lining
Do you dance with cumulo in hi ho timing
Flirting on cloud nine with altostratus
Enchanting and billowing with nimbostratus
Little pretty
Puffy cloud
Dancing through
The light so loud
Glowing in the Brightening haze
What ever happened to Our silver days
Do you skip along the thunder clouds
Rainbow colouring for staring crowds
Kaleidescoping through the prism infraction
With water droplets in the caption
Little pretty
Puffy cloud
Dancing through
The light so loud
Glowing in the Brightening haze
What ever happened to Our silver days
Oh cloudless sky and starry night
Why is my cumulo not shining bright
Stars and moon and sun gone with her
Across the universe to dust and wither
DISMANTLE THE WALL, SILENT FRIEND (for the National Autistic Society)
I took a bite out of my hand
Not before I took a bite out of you
Cause you’ve got to be in synch, silent friend
With the love and the trust that I do
If you can’t reach dependable, silent friend
Then you’ve got some way to go
If you can’t stretch our time out together
Then we’re unlikely to grow
Some cannot make that adjustment
As the world has such a hold
They shy from standing alongside our needs
That’s where a silent friend must be bold
It might be that we’re all somewhat autistic
I mean who doesn’t wish to foresee every twist
As life drives us forward, silent friend
With worry and with risk
So build me a structure, silent friend
Spend every juncture in the moment
Work beyond idle definitions
And be my greatest exponent
‘Man have direct contact with man’
…for I don’t bite out of violence
Take my hand
Dismantle the wall
Start with the glow of a silence
Be
My Silent Friend
SEED LOOKS TO SPIRIT AND SPIRIT CONFIRMS
I split the seed
Not the atom
And looked on the drip, drip, drip
Of true growth
Barely liquid
And barely solid
The patient pattern
Of human hope
The strain of Nature
Against the stain of Man
Like Spring in full
I glean a view
The plainest ways
Given out freely
Breaking circles
And pushing men anew
Wild
Wild seed
Against the vanities
That we hold and feed
I need air
The loving thing
Perhaps the thing that got me there
Like a scented trail
I send the message
That seed looks to Spirit
And Spirit confirms
All of it here
Beyond religion
And as our rooms fall bare
In the quiet we stumble
Towards a sort of self-birth
Not disguised by season
Love, like acid
Can detach the surface
Love, like milk
Bursts forth with reason
Wild
Wild seed
Against the vanities
That we hold and feed
I need air
The loving thing
Perhaps the thing that got me there
Like a scented trail
I send the message
That seed looks to Spirit
And Spirit confirms
All of it now
Beyond religion
Those plain ways do shimmer
Tuned to a child’s sleep
Underneath the moment
Recall the seed
We walk in light there again
You were with me too
It was all outside of memory
Inside the shell
Barely solid
Patient pattern
Surrendering made easy
Like an opening
Hurtling into love
Our days in motion
Us spinning our world
Against the stain of Man
Wild
Wild seed
Against the vanities
That we hold and feed
I need air
The loving thing
Perhaps the thing that got me there
Like a scented trail
I send the message
That seed looks to Spirit
And Spirit confirms
All of it stretching
Beyond religion
