1054 - Siren

An endless siren calls through the night air
An ambulance? A police car? No, neither
It’s someone’s house or car alarm I hear
Maybe they’re on holiday, unaware
That their property’s causing such a stir
How fortunate that I’m not next door. Hey!
It’s stopped, and there is peace on earth once more
It’s just as well, for just about to play
Is Akiko Suwanai, backed by the
Orchestre National de Lyon: they’re
This evening’s Prom… Oh, not again! I hear
An ambulance or police car on its way
To some Salford emergency; despair
Somewhere, but who cares? There’s the orchestra!
Fri 24 July 2009

1030 - 24 hours in Salford and Bolton

Last night Andy came round with Soundforge 5
We picked up Rachel en route to Bolton
The writers’ group met, consisting of five
Sat out the back of the Hen & Chickens
One exercise: to draw inspiration
From one of Gary’s books, brought in a bag
My book was ‘Death’s Eye’ (the explanation
For yesterday’s sonnet). I mustn’t brag
But I worked hard today. It was a drag
How the rain fell. Thought I wouldn’t survive
The walk home; thought I’d end up all sodden
My office wear reduced to soaking rags
But I borrowed an umbrella at five-
Past five, and walked home under its protection
Tue 30 June 2009

1013 - Long day's journey into Salford

Sitting here in the Manchester Museum
While Josie colours in all her pictures
For two weeks now, we’ve come here for a swim
But the big pool was closed down for repairs
Wasting no time, we flew straight out of there
And came here for a curious look round
We saw glass cases full of stuffed creatures
Bats, foxes, rabbits, birds that made no sound…
Then later, walking to United’s ground
Along the Ship Canal side; evening sun
Shone on us and the Lowry while we paused
For refreshment; then past the Quays we wound
Our way back to my flat. The total sum
Of this was we had our best time for years!
Sat 13 June 2009

934 - Salford Shopping City

It’s Salford Shopping City in the spring
The wind blows plastic bags round and around
The taxis race round roundabouts. Swearing,
A woman with Tourette’s withdraws her pounds
The bus-stop throbs as people are let down
A man skulks smoking outside Bargain Booze
The Pound Shops, William Hills, Woolworths (closed down)
The Flea Market empty but for refuse
At quarter to five, long Post Office queues
When my turn comes I find myself chatting
To a friendly blonde clerk eager to expound
The new Post Office credit card. Refuse -
How could I? But I did, remembering
How long it’s taken to get my debts down
Thur 26 Mar 2009

920 - The night before

A busy day organising meetings
There’s always someone unavailable
The tales they spin always contain some stings
There’s one with bells on here that you can pull
But never mind work, tomorrow is all
My own, taking it off, cleaning my car
Buying shoes at the local Salford mall
And practising my songs on the guitar
Tomorrow night is a big one, by far
The biggest test of my poor voice which sings
So rarely at home, barely capable
Of rising above whispers. I can’t Marr
This chance to play the Smiths and other things
Please please please don’t let me be miserable
Thur 12 Mar 2009

882 - Salford snowfall

Outside the third-floor window, snowflakes float
Sailing, then sinking in full formation
Frail frozen fleet, soon flattened underfoot
Failing, falling to its destination
Headlights, tail-lights flow from Salford station
Forgetting office facts and office files
Filing themselves away as suburban
Freed from the city by four or five miles
The snow, the shadows, lie in light / dark piles
This freezing season with its frosty coat
This frightened evening, white, black, tight-woven
On forlorn pavements, forgotten exiles
From frequent footfalls, I'll now plant my feet
Forlornly fleeing fate's final function
Mon 2 Feb 2009

874 - Fourteen lines with two rhymes and an 'oh'

Woke up at eight, thought, ‘Mustn’t be late,’ so
Hopped out of bed, usual shouts from below
‘Hang on,’ you ask, ‘it’s Sunday. No tasks. Slow!’
But I’d promised not to miss little Jo
Waiting, anticipating in Wilmslow
I’d driven down there by eleven, though
My Ford drove from Salford and is quite slow
No waiting, accelerating I’d go
When white van man incites my anger, show
Boy racer tendencies, outpace these low
Forms of life, get to ex-wife’s; didn’t know
Where to have lunch with Jo, my hunch was ‘No’
To Pizza Express; wallet needs less flow
Late breakfast, then fast to Disney film show
Sun 25 Jan 2009

841 - Panto ranto

Up with the lark, in the dark, barking mad
When so little sleep had. Had to be done
Motored to daughter for quarter to. Dad
Does his stuff. Tough sometimes, but also fun
To Salford Quays, panto season, he’s on:
The Wizard of Oz, because, because of
The things he does. Does he, or was it one
Big trick, sick like the wicked witch? Like love?
The witch is dead, head hit by house above
Lorna Luft aloft on tufted stick, bad
To the bone. Tone and Jo moaned and booed when
She threatened Dorothy. We later drove
Down the grey asphalt road, mode of thought glad
Giving and nibbling with siblings to come
Tue 23 Dec 2008

831 - Rainy Saturday fun

Got up, cleaned the flat, then did ironing
While listening to Love and to Roxy
I then drove up to Oldham, collecting
My friend, then ate at Franky and Benny
Which one, you ask? The one at Salford Quay
Too late for brunch, I chose the chicken wings
The barbecue sauce was a bit spicy
She had pizza, not eating everything
We went online at my place, the dating
Website was a bit shite, but interesting
Then watched some films. Hugh Grant danced so badly
But funnily, and did you know he sings?
Then a film about the shy geek winning
The girl. Maybe this could happen to me
Sat 13 Dec 2008

758 - Showery Lowry Centre

Yesterday evening down in Salford Quays
Pizza Express and Café Rouge were full
The rain crashed and bounced as popular plays
Drew crowds in, many a young and old girl
Milling around the Lowry in a whirl
Knocking my coffee cup as they passed by
Obliviously discussing, the thrill
Of watching Othello or Macbeth die
Reanimating the old ones, the high
Of being young itself enough for these
Groups of schoolgirls. Meanwhile, upstairs, the cool
Room revealed spinning dancers, multiplied
By many mirrors. Outside, rain and breeze
Rippled reflected lights in the Irwell
Wed 1 Oct 2008

752 - Rush hour colours

Sat here in my office room with a view
Approaching the end of the working day
A train pulls into Salford, purple, blue
On the green bridge above Trinity Way
Now here's another; rush hour's under way
Under the bridge. The cars line up at lights,
Then race off like athletes when red gives way
To green; grey cars, black cars, vans (usually whites)
A big white van with small square windows waits
On red, taking its captive from court to
The red bricks of Strangeways for one more day
Or year, or two: endless blue days and nights
Man in grey suit with umbrella tries to
Find his car in the car park, and it's grey
Thur 25 Sep 2008

737 - Life without a car

I’m contemplating life without a car
My little runaround is almost dead
The engine’s worn out, been driven so far
That it needs replacing. Ain’t got the bread.
In any case, it seems you can instead
Join one of these car clubs for small payment
And then just use their shared cars, getting rid
Of your regular car costs: heaven sent
For those looking to save. It’s what I meant
To do when I bought my flat that’s so near
To my office that I can walk there, tread
The streets of Manchester and Salford, bent
On a good time without taxi, tramcar
Or train. More money’s spent on getting fed!
Wed 10 Sep 2008

656 - Estate agent blues in A flat

I can’t sell my flat, you can’t sell your house
Still stuck in Salford. That might sound like hell
To some maybe, but not me, coz I’m close
To my workplace. No, can’t afford petrol
These days, can we? So I did very well
To buy that flat, the one that I can’t sell
But the plan’s still to sell, and yours as well
And buy together a detached house. All
Well and good as a plan except the hell
Of driving into Manchester with those
Unfortunate others, all nose to tail
All paying the congestion charge as well
No, I can’t sell my flat but I suppose
I’ll save money each month that I don’t sell
Sat 21 June 2008

605 - Hard Labour

Ah, lovely May sunshine and ‘Vote Labour!’
In this part of Salford they usually win
But still their van drives round the area
Persuading us to keep their own man in.
No doubt even here that they’re worrying
About the credit crunch and house prices
Even though years of relentless rising
Has made overdue corrective phases.
If only they’d go back to policies
That looked after the long-forgotten poor!
Instead the poor must help themselves, fiddling
With no assistance from accountancies,
From offshore banks, from fellows on the floor
Of the chamber. My vote? Forgot again…
Thur 1 May 2008

569 - Flat broke (don't fix it)

Wednesday's bin-emptying day at the flats
When Phil the caretaker wheels all the bins
To the main gate. Binmen pull up in that
Smelly red lorry of theirs (cos within's
All sorts of disgusting stuff, like old tins
All caked in slime). I feel sorry for Phil
Having to do that to earn dough. These things
Have to be done, though, cos dirt and germs kill.
They're also cutting branches off trees till
They no longer overhang footpaths. What's
The worry? Heads at risk from bird droppings?
No, just routine site maintenance, says Phil.
A day in the death of the Salford flats
Off Regent Road, near Sainsbury's and Maplins.
Wed 26 Mar 2008

472 - Regent Road Raceway

Safe in my flat, I hear the sirens wail.
No mermaids these, oh no! Cops and robbers
Racing down Regent Road. Thieves out on bail,
Driving their usual uninsured nicked cars.
What should they do when they’re not behind bars?
Would you give them a job, risk your money
On thugs on drugs? Thought not. Besides, welfare’s
There to support them because you and me
Don’t trust ’em. Enlightened society
Can’t execute ’em. But when they all fail
To live on their pittances, offences
Reoccur, and once more they are not free.
And so a life of crime, bent as a nail,
Is the chosen option by them and us.
Thur 20 Dec 2007

462 - Shop till I drop

Things that I often buy in Sainsbury’s
On my way home from work, round five or six;
Those bare necessities, small luxuries,
That keep me going, while checking out chicks.
To the right by the door, the cards with pix
To make you laugh at Christmas, on birthday;
Then clothes, then fruit and veg (celery sticks?)
And, further down, dairy (no milk today?)…
The tinned food, pasta and drinks aisles give way
To sugar, green tea and fair trade coffees;
Then things to spread, and cakes and bread. Two ticks
To frozen food and alcohol. I’ll stay
No longer, once I’ve grabbed enough of these.
Hope you enjoyed that, you shopaholics!
Mon 10 Dec 2007

457 - Leaving leaves

I’m looking out of my window. Between
The two tall evergreens, I can see, through
Deciduous branches where leaves have been
And gone, a distant tree gracing the view,
Majestically filling space. Thank you,
My noble chap, my cheerful friendly fellow
Behind the green and brown foreground. Below
The grey Salford sky, your distinctive yellow
Has coloured in my morning. I could wallow
In your mystical distance, golden sheen
Suddenly lit by sunburst for a few
Seconds (almost missed while typing). The shallow
Concerns of life mean I must leave, though keen
To watch your short-lived show. I hear my cue.
Wed 5 Dec 2007

449 - Feeling flat about leaving my flat

I'm selling this old flat in Salford town
That's been so good to me, but for the din
From up all night neighbours that wore me down
Last year, but lately things are improving
On that score. A tour of the flat's coming
So I can remember what it was like
After I've left. Laminated flooring
White, and painted white walls. In the hall, bike
Outside Lee's flat above. Such a short hike
To work, no car needed. Phil looks around
For intruders and empties wheelie-bin
There is something relaxing to the psyche
In having your own place, own rules, own ground...
But it's to Wilmslow I am returning

Tue 27 Nov 2007

265 - I've just found out I should be moving soon

I’ve just found out I should be moving soon
From this flat in Salford back to Wilmslow.
The buyer’s told me the 15th of June
Is the exchange date; that’s when I should go.
I’m leaving all the furniture, you know;
That should make my move easier by far.
The clothes I never wear, I think I’ll throw,
And just take whatever fits in my car.
I’ve no place to go that’s particular,
It seems: I’ve had eighteen addresses, strewn
All around Manchester, and long ago,
In Birmingham and Lichfield, and, one year,
On Long Island, New York … but not the moon.
I’d get sick of the cheese, so I’ll say no.
Sun 27 May 2007