Sheffield 1979

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

The art work for this day is "Sheffield" by John Law

Sheffield 1979

A city, whose blood was molten steel,

waited for me in September sun.

Concrete flats loomed over the station

as the diesel fumes of weary trains

lay in the valley air. 

Long gone, the veil of sulphur

that clogged this city's lungs
to the sound of rattling cream trams.
Still, it had a hole in its road

and arches on the Wicker. Pride

in its knives, sharp and without stain.

There I rode a paternoster

(for no good reason), breathed in Hendo's,

 

discovered the 2p bus fare

on the number 60 to Crimicar Lane,

treacly beer at the Frog and Parrot

and the love of my life.

Tim Fellows 2021

The Harbour

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

The art work for this day is "Scarborough Harbour" by John Law

 

The Harbour

 

It wasn't the day I expected it to be. 

The seabirds now seem strangely quiet

as they make their patterns in the sky.

The tide has lapped to the wooden steps

as if it wants to climb and roam the town.

Check in to a B&B, climb the steep

and creaking stairs to the tiniest room

full of doll's house furniture. A pint

and a glass of wine in a seafront pub, 

fish and chips, ice-cream and a stroll

around the windy headland.

 

Until the lure of the moon pulls 

it back, leaving the attic room 

drenched in salt, only puddles 

on the cobblestones and the sad boat

left high and dry.

My world turned to sepia.  

Tim Fellows 2021

 

Pebble Bird

 

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

 

The art work for this day is "Sanderling Beach at Spurn Point" by John Law

 

 

Pebble Bird

The pebble bird is brought to life

in magic sand and whistling wind.

He's not all there, he's merely half

a bird, one head, one eye, one wing.

He has two legs, now there's a plus!

But look, his legs do not have feet

so he won't walk, he'll just hold fast,

and silent is his pebbly beak. 

His one eye stares up to the sky

where gulls of flesh and blood all wheel

and dip; he knows he'll never fly

and waits for time and tide to steal

 

his short and strange and magic life.

Then, just like us, he'll take his leave. 

Tim Fellows 2021

Sylvia

 

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

 

The art work for this day is by Jane Cornwell

Sylvia

I never coped the way I thought I should

I never meant to suffer for my art

I faded like a shadow in the woods

I always knew the bad came with the good

And one day you would likely break my heart

I never coped the way I thought I should

 

When words spill out they gush in bitter flood 

or sting and burn just like a poisoned dart

I faded like a shadow in the woods

 

Did you behave the only way you could?

Come each new day I'd hope for some fresh start

I never coped the way I thought I should

 

When next to you I felt some kind of dud

They didn't care that I was pretty smart

I faded like a shadow in the woods

 

And now it feels like sinking in the mud

And finally we'll always be apart

I never coped the way I thought I should

I faded like a shadow in the woods

 

Tim Fellows 2021

Ethereal Blue

 

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

 

The art work for this day is "Ethereal Blue" by Kerfe Roig

Ethereal Blue

My dreams are blue. My nightmares are blue.

Wherein I am locked in a blue room with muslin

walls. The floor is water and I enter without splashing.

I breathe in and blueness enters my lungs, turns

my tongue and blood to blue. 

Tim Fellows 2021

 

Selkie

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

The art work for this day is by Jane Cornwell

 

 

Selkie

 

Smooth and sensual, softly yearning 

he weaves through wave-breaks, surfs the whale-road

where the wild things meet at witching. 

Mate in moonlight, bodies melding

lost and lusting, they leave the earth-life

enter night-dreams, noses brushing

 

Salty singing, flick through sea-hair 

find their freedom, fierce in longing

burst the breakers, hot blood coursing

 

In the cooling, calm and careful,

gently gliding, ghosts in sea streams

silk and supple, stars their ceiling

Mourn in morning, the moon has faded

and he is gone, his heart is home-bound,

locked on land when sunlight brightens.

 

Come the cold-time, she climbs the sand-way

Grey and groaning, dragging grimly

Behind a bare and wind-tossed coast bush

Heavy with hunger, heaves a last time

born in blood and broken promise

Calf-cream leaks now, thick and calming

 

Lies with new birth, looks to land-hills

Sees a shape that seems familiar

Something's watching, wet with weeping. 

 

Tim Fellows 2021

Guacamole

 

Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021. 

 

The art work for this day is "Guacamole" by Kerfe Roig

 

Guacamole

 

An avocado never failed to satisfy

his senses. He had gone to market early 

to select the best and banter in bad Spanish

with Manuel, who had taught

him how to find the perfect fruit. 

 

The dark wrinkled skin, still firm

in his hand, the blade biting 

into flesh that just gave way, 

taking care when it met the pit;

ten cuidado! the warning from Manuel.

The supporting cast - firm scallions,

with trails of hair, sliced in rings. Luscious

ruby tomatoes, hitting him with scent

before his nose got near. Lime, sharp

and fresh, heightened with a dash of salt

and heat of Cayenne. He filled his bag

to the sound of Manuel laughing

with his next parroquiano. Later, eating 

while watching boats slide in and out

of the harbour he thought how much better

 

this simple meal became than the sum 

of such disparate parts. 

Tim Fellows 2021