Pain & Pleasure
Get up close and uncomfortable with the writer, find out what lies behind the words and where the tears are rotated.
HOW YORKSHIRE LOVE POEMS AND OTHER DESPERATE STUFF CAME TO BE.
Pick away at the sores, the soars and the splendours; no escape here for the writer, push and push and push.
Read the poems below.
ESCAPE TO ESCARPMENT
EVERYTHING IS UP FOR GRABS
Forensic exploration with a writer open to your every question.
Expect some reaction with a writer free to respond with vigour.
CHRISTOPHER AKA COASTMOOR
DROP BY AND INTERROGATE
Creative Writing via Zoom – Monday 10:00-13:00
eMail: christopher@coastmoor.co.uk for zoom links
Close Reading Week 1
Permed Hair
That old permed and wrinkled hair
Wet on a wet old Sunday afternoon
That boldly disconnected playful hair
Deftly weaves, wefts, and poses
To hide behind the sufferer’s gloom
That old iron-clad coal fire
Crackling, fizzling, bristling
On a stacked-up dubious afternoon
That old slow-breathing coal fire
Slightly seething, even unbelieving
Seeks out the cloud-willed moon
That old worn-away, torn day carpet
Bare, thread-less, no need to broom
Dreadful, pained, wasteful afternoon
That old worn, shorn, blue carpet
Once interwoven with dreams
In this, the cold, cared-less room
Absolutely nothing, no thing
Nothing to think, or to do
On a nothing, no thought afternoon
That old absolutely no thing
Corrupting ambiance’s silent call
Dividing a nation unable to zoom
Stop, loping; all together, so soon
That old splattered paint pot
Latter day’s blues and gold’s
A painter’s painting afternoon
That old paint pot of porcelain
Gleaming thus then seeming
As bright as your eyes illume
That old rickety-rackety red pen
Worlds determine to unfold
Rolled in by the wistful afternoon
That old tic-tac-toe red pen
Groping then unbelievably hoping
That with sufficient swaying
Joints, with slow slow swoons
Our minds may sway the tune
Close Reading Week 2
Inconsistencies
The White House, Five Mile Road, Jersey
The same old, famous old
Bold and dangerous inconsistency
Always in the game, always the same old
Infamous, continuous inconsistency
Continuing without conscience
Always along, always with doubt
On the same old, irregular regular road
First to incredulity, then to paths way beyond
Segregated, separated; why then to write
Egress spills outward, in your wasted words
Released from your pent-up, sent-up world
Unleashed from deeper than the forgotten depths
Close Reading Week 3
Beyond Orange
St Aubins Sunrise, Jersey
Blossom bloom beyond orange
Climb from behind
The leaves of gold and green
Those whitewashed walls
Galleria to house within
House within
To thoughts from within
From a place outside green
Georgian wall
To Christian chapel
Stone to soul to stone to soul
Again to Calgary
Pathways, pictures, photographs
Snapshots in time
Crushing sandstone underfoot
Scoured moss grows green
Such a surefooted backdrop
For a lady with taste
Close Reading Week 4
Blue Flame
Magna Science Adventure Centre, Sheffield
Sear shine, sublime
Move blue flame to blue
Waken, ever in exultation
Arise in the blue
To climb to the angel’s blue
Each one of us that walks
Moves from blue flame to blue
Each step we take, oh, so so lightly
Saved to be, ever hopeful
To let each one be, as each one is to be
Close Reading Week 5
Our Own Way
Burrator Reservoir, Yelverton, Devon
And so, however we go, we go our own way
Pathways new, footsteps not trod before
Each bracken that we broke
We broke together, we spoke: this is new
Know then, that this way
Is to be known as our own, owned
Yet not known, or not known before
Each thought, on that day as we woke
We brought into ourselves: this is new
Light and might, lightly and mightily
We walk our own way
Stealth of stride, stride of self
Alone no more
Each slight incitation, each long incantation
We recite something: this is new
Close Reading Week 6
Stomping
Beverley Races, Beverley, North Yorkshire
Simultaneously stomping and stamping
Smashing down the stairs
Entrance what an entrance
Crashing and lashing, with loads of noise
Arguments and discord
Affrays stacking up lacking thought
Pulling and mulling but togetherness ensues
As chocolate drops are consumed