Combustion

SYNOPSIS

 

Combustion reflects on a childhood spent in a small Yorkshire mining town. It re-examines events through older, more experienced, eyes.


BACKGROUND

 

We lived in a back-to-back terrace. It had one downstairs living room and the kitchen was a gas cooker at the top of the cellar steps. The house had two small bedrooms. There was no central heating or inside plumbing apart from a sink. The toilets were in a block at the end of the street. We used a tin bath which hung on a wall. The only heat was a coal fire.


Nature didn’t play a huge part in our life. It was very much an urban, working-class upbringing.


Combustion was the first book written in the series. It seemed a natural place to start.



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SAMPLE VIDEOS

SAMPLE POEMS

The Seamstress

 

I watched her eyes alight upon a thread,

her fingers quickly tack another line.

How much of what we know is never said,

those nimble movements crafted over time.

 

Her gaze would never falter on a run

except when strands would break or end too soon.

A tip of cotton placed upon her tongue

then twisted through the eye, she would resume.

 

A table by the fire a cramped workshop

with buttons, pins, and tape scattered about.

When working on new clothes would often stop

to spread cloth on the floor and mark it out.

 

Her hands stiffened with age and lost their grip,

warm water in a bowl the remedy.

But if she saw the smallest hole or rip

would grasp a needle, wield it perfectly.

Julie’s Strop

 

There you were in your whirligig blues.

People are stupid! The crap I put up with!

So everyone you ever knew

were drenched in that stream of invective,

 

immersed in Why me? and Why now?

The torrent of words unrelenting.

Paul (bless) trying to reason how

things were really much better, rambling

 

in that finger-in-the-dyke way he did.

You fixing him eyes cold and staring

realising that there, trussed and delivered,

was the sump for your rage. Then ripping

 

into him as if he was to blame.

And us, pissing ourselves with laughter

at the prey, who when the hunter takes aim

steps forward, instead of running for cover.

Polluted Water

 

For all talk of magnificent rivers

the Calder,

wrung from granite,

tyre necklace

and frame strewn shore,

never made the grade.

Topped with surface scum

a rainbow held in petroleum

the only lip service

to nature’s beauty.

Then a fresh curiosity.

Froth blowing

tumbleweed-style past the Chantry.

Cotton wool

skimming a pockmarked skin.

They would scour the tidal bowl

for the whorls of industry.

Not us, the cry

pointing to quirks of nature

which could bleach a shirt,

make detergent float by.

And Chantry – fingertips

clinging to bridge.

Class outing set to explore

four blank walls and sod-all more

suddenly

the prized vantage point to see

clouds of white foam

drifting illegally, downstream.

Portrait

 

She wore borrowed limbs.

Sweat bartered, paid for,

kept as numbers jotted

                                        in carbon

from a stub pencil.

 

Her body

carved on-block from that flesh mass

used to build broad Northern women.

Square sides of trunk

and bell breasts

wrapped in an apron

under a sea of flower print.

 

Perfume

of feather mattress

and mantel hung with family glory.

 

At the factory gate             

                                herds of her,

as if looms wove them

instead of dying cloth they spun.

 

Even then, the yarn unsold.

Even then, decay, loss,

 

progress, shifts into

new avenues of servitude.