Finchley Boy

SYNOPSIS

 

A collection of poems brought together whilst living in Finchley. Many of the poems were written in the local coffee bars and cafes.

 

BACKGROUND

 

The poems are largely based on local observation. However, there are also a rump of older poems included  (for example, Electrical Therapy, Snapshot,  and Cutting). These were added because of events during this time which served to remind me of them.

 

It is difficult to write purely from observation. There is a temptation to overlay text with added interpretation, or to bluntly spell out a meaning already implicitly held.

 

After much pain, I have found the old KISS adage applies (Keep It Simple Stupid). Actually, this applies to all forms of writing. And life in general.

 

To read the poems directly on this website - please select below:

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SAMPLE VIDEOS

SAMPLE POEMS

Theological Pamphlet

 

Words linked purposefully together

explain the unavailability of bliss.

A treatise on the highs and lows

of emotion, how we can miss

 

any subtle signs, reject

what might be our sole chance

of paradise here on Earth.

Further, how we preserve distance

 

between a hard or easy life

subconsciously, to spur ourselves on.

These are central arguments

the work was based upon.

 

I do not believe any of this.

Hairshirt not a garment

I would have chosen; less, still

to wear with muddled intent.

Motorway Service Station

 

We have arrived

despite a myriad of wrong turns

and slip roads mistaken

 

for the shortest way.

When parking

again, I go astray

 

to be put in my place.

This is the longest day in history

and slop

 

in metal tins

labelled home cooking

does nothing to alleviate

 

my sense of foreboding.

Prices here a heart attack

in waiting.

 

What crap.

You need a mortgage to buy

a fun size bar of chocolate.

 

A man has just fainted.

He was browsing and found a bargain.

It was that unexpected.

Testimony

 

Imagine the treat!

Bearded English master

waving another

poetry book disaster

 

to be landing soon

in our vicinity.

Buckle up lads!

Words only seen in a dictionary

 

coming our way.

Pass the books around.

What’s this?

The Mersey Sound.

 

Shock

of recognition

complete.

Suddenly a lesson

 

alive

with scraps of thought, poems, scribbling.

Imagine – verses that use the language

we are speaking!

 

Sod classics,

sod Latin,

we have Henri, McGough,

and Brian Patten.

 

Events

not always constructed logically.

Elements may come together

accidentally

 

as if by chance.

A teacher

way off curriculum,

a bored class and three Scousers

 

meet.

Later,

no matter

how much my life alters,

 

places change, perspective shifts,

incredibly

that encounter decades ago

still inspires me.

Listening to a Transistor Radio

 

Music runs through life

as a thread.

Pull it.

See the first shred

 

of teenage angst

or rebellion

etched in some

long forgotten

 

vinyl single,

through to today’s slicker

video fests

who flatter

 

to deceive.

Sound and fury.

Pull harder.

Step between the memory

 

of a garage band

bound to fail,

speakers and drums jammed inside a Leyland mini

to tales

 

of school bands

with instruments blagged from the Salvation Army.

Amazing how a tune or song

can instantly

 

remove years

to a time or place.

Can remind you

of a face

 

or particular event

and is woven

around

the very same emotion

 

you felt then.