Greenlane Poetry

All Saints 3pm
Bad Day
Bar des Sports, Charly-sur-Marne
Before and After the Watershed
Call to Witness
Carte Postale
Charlie
Clerk of Works
Dog in the Night
Easter Saturday at Festubert
Fargate
first
first
first
first
first
first
Force Nine
Forge Island
Four Chimneys
Furnaces
Half Empty
In Glen Howe Park
In Provence
Incident
Kilner's Bridge
Lady
Last Train
Lilac Time
Magpies
Mungy Lane
North Line
Nurses
Outfield
Painting By Numbers
Patriots
Per Ardua
Pioneers
Release
Rememberings
Routine Visit
Runner
September
Silent Snakes
Spring Training
Start-1
Students in Crookesmoor
The Don at Swinton
The Festive Season
The Lavender Feast at Saullt
The Runners in the Fields
The Seasons
Treatment Days
Trips to the Seaside
Up Train
Valley Mist
Weston Park
What Love Is
Winthrop Park

--chosen-work--

Furnaces



It must have been the crossing points that woke me
that dark night when steam still pulled Icelandic cod
out of Hull transpennine
I thought I was in hell
ablaze with row on row stupendous fires
stoked by furious imps and demons

We left the Leeds line arrowing and swayed
away towards the Don into sparkling banging
showers mountains high
reeling lurching past the piled shining
streets of Parkgate
Dead deserted dark a different face of hell

Coltsfoots in rough grass reluctant trees
damaged rabbits claim the sidings
Where molten iron ran
brackish pools of wintering fowl
branch lines falter heading nowhere


People here were iron-bred
dwellings lives more black than night
blacker than the deep-won coal yet
many hearts of furnace red

Their fire is out
Their iron rusted into earth
They hope for better days and
sell each other foreign cars