Pub Games - Donald Keyman

do you remember the E & G?
the English and Guernsey Arms to you and me
a good old boozer down the Bridge
bar meals, scampi, darts, cribbage

then one day it all had to change
the brewery decided to rearrange
the locals' opinions were not sought
and a fake Irish pub was duly bought

I went in there when it was done
to see the locals having fun
they were sitting where they always used to be
enduring endless fiddly diddly dee

I could see they didn't give a feck
for an ersatz pub from a flatbed truck
as far as they were concerned it would always be
their old pub, the E & G

for twenty, maybe thirty years, they
drank Guinness instead of local beers
But they never really gave a feck
for the sham shamrock

now history has proved them right
and they have won without a fight
for Paddy's bar has been reconverted
to the E & G it has reverted

and we're left to consider the irony
when there's a band on, at the E & G
the gig venue is a mystery
because it's "down at Blindo's doncha see?"

Donald Keyman

Bleak - Paul Fletcher

Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in December 2010

Bleak 
Bleak
Bestowed
Sand
... A past dance 
With a sea devil

Lost souls
Found upon a new land
Separated from their heaven

Sky blends
Into starscapes
Hidden above
The fronds of
Loose leafed cloud

Nimble cumulated raindrops
Froth down into the blue expanse

I imagine children playing
Lives out as drowned men
From a far culture
I toy with the idea they are them
Lived again
Laughing on the warm sand
On a gorgeous August day

Watching the stars
For their return.

Paul Fletcher

United No More - Ian Duquemin

United the Kingdom no longer
Britain the once ever Great
Divided its people stand helpless
In a land so unsure of its fate
The Union Jack once held power
Distinguished in red, blue and white
Seems to have lost any meaning
As its nation can't stand up and fight
Down come the churches and steeples 
New gods are now ruling the land
Our land, once free and untethered 
Speaks in language we can't understand 
Our motto was "Never Surrender"
Yet surrender we seem to have done
And everything British about us
Has vanished, been stolen... And gone 

Ian Duquemin

Sign Language - Lyndon Queripel

The tell tale signs were all there
Bloodshot eyes and tangled hair
Cracked voice and vacant stare
A damaged heart beyond repair.

Lyndon Queripel

In The Bleak Mid-Winter - Christina Rossetti

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk,
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air -
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man
I would do my part;
Yet what I can, I give Him -
Give my heart.

Christina Rossetti


"In the Bleak Midwinter" is a Christmas carol based on a poem by the English poet Christina Rossetti written before 1872 in response to a request from the magazine Scribner's Monthly for a Christmas poem. It was published posthumously in Rossetti's Poetic Works in 1904. Source: Wikipedia