Our fifteenth blog linked to Lewisham Voices Facebook video posts, is a weekly series where the stories, memories, poems and writing from people who lived, worked or wrote about the area of Lewisham are shared.
Beyond Words is a monthly poetry event in South London, started in 2012, hosting talent from the world of poetry and spoken word. Sadly there have been no evening meetings since March due to the virus but do check their Facebook page for news of the group and look out for the date they may restart. https://www.facebook.com/BeyondWordsPoetry/
The link will take you to a video of some members of the group reading their poems, and below are the transcripts of those and other poetry, most written during lockdown.
Enjoy Lewisham Voices.
Video link here
POISON BREEZE
by Francesca La Nave
Ring a ring of roses
because it took this to stop the Carnival,
ground the planes, dock the Cruise ships.
The Tungsten children were still dancing
when the orders came
for a nation of dispractic rope walkers
to vacate the penny arcades
for the confetti throwers to disband,
to retreat into blue cars, with tinted windows.
A pocket full of posies
may walk you into a screen filled with emoticons,
into a house with broken clocks,
into a glass room with rubber suits,
into a machine,
into nothing at all.
We would have rather floated the bodies
on burning rafters
than fearing the poison breeze whispering
Atishoo! Atishoo!
We all
Fall
Down.
by Francesca La Nave
Ring a ring of roses
because it took this to stop the Carnival,
ground the planes, dock the Cruise ships.
The Tungsten children were still dancing
when the orders came
for a nation of dispractic rope walkers
to vacate the penny arcades
for the confetti throwers to disband,
to retreat into blue cars, with tinted windows.
A pocket full of posies
may walk you into a screen filled with emoticons,
into a house with broken clocks,
into a glass room with rubber suits,
into a machine,
into nothing at all.
We would have rather floated the bodies
on burning rafters
than fearing the poison breeze whispering
Atishoo! Atishoo!
We all
Fall
Down.
CALYPSO NIGHTS
by Eileen B Wiltcher
Deep in a grove of calabash trees
the white house dreams.
Languid visitors sprawl at ease
the white house dreams.
Languid visitors sprawl at ease
drink bacardis in the sun.
Companions massage lotion on
the palid crepey skin.
Companions massage lotion on
the palid crepey skin.
In the evening when the lamps are lit
slim shadows flit
dispensing wine and cigarettes.
slim shadows flit
dispensing wine and cigarettes.
The indolent pampered sit
stroking their arthritic knees.
A lemonade moon peeps through the leaves.
stroking their arthritic knees.
A lemonade moon peeps through the leaves.
Far, far below, on a sheltered strand
ripples still shimmy
on the moon-blanched sand,
ripples still shimmy
on the moon-blanched sand,
voluptuous shadows, cheek to cheek
dance to a makeshift hot beat band
before they melt away.
dance to a makeshift hot beat band
before they melt away.
LOCKDOWN BLUES
by Mike Godwin
As deadly viruses assault the land,
Pubs are deserted; hotel bars are shut,
And hardened drunkards, now down on their knees,
Recall those last words - ‘Time, gentlemen, please!’
They wonder when life can resume again:
A friendly pint, some darts, a snooker game -
Perhaps some faces missing from the crowd;
But, by and large, things will go on the same.
*************
To some, the pub’s their life … but life’s a pub
For all of us: there’ll be the day
When the bar closes, when the last drink’s served -
A moment perhaps not so far away.
Crossing the bar’s a dark angel, and he’s
Poised to cry out, “Time, gentlemen, please!”
by Mike Godwin
As deadly viruses assault the land,
Pubs are deserted; hotel bars are shut,
And hardened drunkards, now down on their knees,
Recall those last words - ‘Time, gentlemen, please!’
They wonder when life can resume again:
A friendly pint, some darts, a snooker game -
Perhaps some faces missing from the crowd;
But, by and large, things will go on the same.
*************
To some, the pub’s their life … but life’s a pub
For all of us: there’ll be the day
When the bar closes, when the last drink’s served -
A moment perhaps not so far away.
Crossing the bar’s a dark angel, and he’s
Poised to cry out, “Time, gentlemen, please!”
PERPETUUM MOBILE
by Mike Goodwin
Time is the handmaid of eternity,
A God-created blip in the great circle
Where past, present and future come together
To coalesce in the eternal now.
The Greeks were part right when they understood
Time, Chronos, to have been the child of heaven;
For it is linked to our material world
By the so-called ‘space-time continuum’.
As specks on a galactic nebula,
Men theorize, using such jargon as
‘Light cones’, ‘invariant hyperbola’.
But has eternity been glimpsed in time?
Alpha and Omega seen both at once?
Can we think back ‘before’ and ‘before that’?
On such an endless line, one wonders how
In such a sixteen-elephantine world
We’d ever come to reach the present day.
No! Permanence transcends both space and time -
The omnipresent celestial today
Beyond our puny linear experience
Unless the immortal touches human clay,
Where past and present merge into the instant,
Eternity encompassed in a Man
Who said, “Before Abraham was, I AM.”
No sequence here, but simultaneity.
The Baptist sensed it, uttering with conviction,
“He who comes from above is above all,”
And, “He who comes from heaven is above all.”
Just as his Master earlier had said,
“No man’s gone up to heaven, but the One
Who came from heaven, namely the Son of man
Who is in heaven.” - spoken to Nicodemus
By the God-man while standing here on Earth.
More things are here than Hamlet’s friend, Horatio,
With his philosophy could ever dream.
No more could we, except by divine grace -
The great conundrum to the human race.
We live time-bound. In image, Atropos
Must snap each thread: will we then suffer loss?
Must proud man keep his head yet in the sand?
Or, while there’s Time, reach for the immortal hand?
by Mike Goodwin
Time is the handmaid of eternity,
A God-created blip in the great circle
Where past, present and future come together
To coalesce in the eternal now.
The Greeks were part right when they understood
Time, Chronos, to have been the child of heaven;
For it is linked to our material world
By the so-called ‘space-time continuum’.
As specks on a galactic nebula,
Men theorize, using such jargon as
‘Light cones’, ‘invariant hyperbola’.
But has eternity been glimpsed in time?
Alpha and Omega seen both at once?
Can we think back ‘before’ and ‘before that’?
On such an endless line, one wonders how
In such a sixteen-elephantine world
We’d ever come to reach the present day.
No! Permanence transcends both space and time -
The omnipresent celestial today
Beyond our puny linear experience
Unless the immortal touches human clay,
Where past and present merge into the instant,
Eternity encompassed in a Man
Who said, “Before Abraham was, I AM.”
No sequence here, but simultaneity.
The Baptist sensed it, uttering with conviction,
“He who comes from above is above all,”
And, “He who comes from heaven is above all.”
Just as his Master earlier had said,
“No man’s gone up to heaven, but the One
Who came from heaven, namely the Son of man
Who is in heaven.” - spoken to Nicodemus
By the God-man while standing here on Earth.
More things are here than Hamlet’s friend, Horatio,
With his philosophy could ever dream.
No more could we, except by divine grace -
The great conundrum to the human race.
We live time-bound. In image, Atropos
Must snap each thread: will we then suffer loss?
Must proud man keep his head yet in the sand?
Or, while there’s Time, reach for the immortal hand?
All our libraries have poetry books in stock ranging from classics to modern verse for adults and children. Lewisham Libraries also has poetry in ebook and eaudio book formats.
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