Sam Skelton
POETRY
CITY MAP
Star light, star bright, spires pierce the night,
sharp witted, brave, without the usual doubt of darkness.
The horizon ups and downs like a heartbeat,
raised then lowered, moonward then sunken.
Tall flats, squat chimneys, tower blocks, parking lots.
Landscapes like this one temper my blood flow. I am caught within.
Haemoglobin grasps at oxygen in brief instances.
It is difficult to breathe.
Doors open. Inhale. Doors close. Exhale. Windows not left ajar. Check them. And relax.
I sing the hymns of urbanity, in concrete bursts.
All hail stark open asphalt.
Praise be vehicles snuggly bedded in driveways.
Sweet prayers to safe locks. Dear lord.
Dividing me from danger. Our men. Amen.
Absent of the sun, the city plays hide and seek with the night
but I am not included.
They hee- haw together with crude banter and childish jokes,
spewing crusty residue onto cobbled pavements
and weave invisible pathways that invade the streets and
stroke my skin, like thieves’ fingers.
If I could I would fold myself into a smaller place
where I would not risk assault
or become something else:
A copper coin;
newly planted seeds;
the curl of woodsmoke;
a story passed from generation to generation.
Instead, I listen for the moon
to quieten my late walk home, keys clutched
and wonder if the city
remembers its old map of possibility.
If, like me, it misses feeling safe.
BLUE EYES
His blue eyes, blue eyed
Blued me
In’d me and out me
Skied me
The blue web spun
He sung me
Up-d me and down me
Stung me
His blue eyes, blue eyed
Blued me and sung me
Then cried me
Tied me
And hung me
DRINKING AGAIN
I’ll dance you a jig
I’ll put on a play
I’ve just drunk ten glasses
Of fine chardonnay
I’m needing a toilet
And large feather bed
They’ll put cotton wool up my nose when I’m dead
And yes sweet, I love you
My darling, my friend
It’s all going black now
I think it’s the end
GREY
Grey like the thunder
Grey like the rain
Tears on old faces
A smile hiding pain
The grey when I touch you
They grey when we kiss
A black and white shadow
Of colours we miss
NOTHING
What are you prepared to offer me?
I asked
Indignant
And he replied “nothing”
Nothing at all
Just one empty word
That held so much
What will you offer me?
He asked
And I cried
Salty drops of laughter
Longing and love
I could give you my world
Tell my thoughts secrets
Dance tangos
And sing lullabies til you slept
But I choose not to
And “nothing” I reply
Giving my body and soul to the emptiness
That has crept between us
But my tongue is furred with the longing for him
And my word is too quiet to be heard
He hears nothing
So he switches on the radio
To fill the silence
And we listen
In separate rooms
For the sounds of each others regret
ROMEO
She woke, skin and hair woven like lace chain mail
Weighty and binding her to the dew covered bed
Bast fluttered overhead while moths, wings singed by the mirrored candlelight,
Called to her with their last breaths
To fly from the warmth of his Montague bed
But she had already fallen
The sleeping draught that promised to still her aching heart
And shade her bright eyes from the moon
Still ran it’s weary course through her black veins
And her lover lay wakeful, impatient at her side
She watched as clouds gathered and demons, tongues outstretched
Licked the cold stones that lay at her feet
They were waiting for his poison to drip blood berried
Into their outstretched claws
But she knew there would be no blessed relief
He would make no promise of loves eternal devotion to his sleep drunk bride
And she grasped the glittering, jewelled dagger
That lay deep in his eyes
And tenderly began to carve an altar of her heart
AT THE FUNFAIR
Come on mum
You can see our roof from up there
Its so high
So I go
And my heart hits my stomach and heaves back again on the way up
And yes I can see the house where I used to live
Where they still live
Part time
Only the roof
Still lidding the grief held in the walls
But what I notice is the height and the inevitable drop that will follow
And how selfish I am in my own fear
As my son chants
Over and over
Any minute now
Any minute now
Any minute now mum
I have no words to console him
No gentle hand to rest on his
Just my heart pumping
And the thought
That if i fell
In some other place
Would I believe that my love for my children
Could spin a net strong enough to catch me
Would the last thing I see be their eyes
Their smiles their hands
Or him and his red tiled roof
It’s so cold up here
I feel like I can’t breath
And all I can hear is my frightened son chanting
Any minute now
Any minute now
Any minute now mum
Before the longest drop
TIME HEALS
Time heals everything they say
And I listen
And note its passing ticking
Waiting for this healing
But time is relative
To it’s own passing
And in the time
(I am waiting) I wait
Sometimes slowly
Sometimes rshing past myself so quickly
That I don’t notice the ticking
And i am caught
Worrying
That the time passing (that heals everything)
Is my life
That I am not living
Just waiting (slowly, rushing by)
For this healing
And I imagine what this healing looks like
In the time stopped, ready for restart
It looks like a newly wrapped me
All glittery and ribboned
I feel pleased until I realise that the image is missing
Is still you
Wrapped up like a gift in me
Time heals everything they say
And I listen
And note its passing ticking
Waiting for this healing
But time is relative
To it’s own passing
And I am still relative to you
SPIDER DAUGHTER
Hair bristling
Shallow breathed
I stand so afraid
Of her
Millimetre black
Centimetre circumference
An object of attack
She will chase me across the floor
Before pinning me
Panting
To the wall
And there I will be
Web spun
Orbed and bound
In thread to fine to see
I edge away
She follows
Multi eyeing me
With her knowing glances
Winking she dances
Inching another glamorous leg forward
Taking all the time in the world
We are the
Prey and predator
The past, the future
Of this female life
No so very different once
And yet she still
Rushes the air from my lungs
The blood from my heart
And I hang flabby, crabby
Wrapped in silk
Bound over and round
Held by her power
And loving her beyond words
WATER
Bring me water? She asked
And he left her
To walk naked in the rain
Cold droplets hissing from his Latino skin
And rivulets ran rivers to his fingertips
To pour and drip into a golden pool
That would wash her aching limbs
And sweep her, weightless, to the sea
Bring me water? She asked
And he left her
To build a fountain
That bubbled youth gently from it’s mouth
And poured through pebbles to underground caves
Where echo lakes waited
To welcome her embrace
And carry her, guiltless, to an unknown shore
Bring me water? She asked
And he left her
To conjure with his breath
Huricane winds and howling gales
That whirlpooled the still waters of the lochs
Ad mixed it with her blood
To ease its passage
And calm her, breathless, to his outstretched arms
Bring me water? She asked
But he’d left her
And she ran the tap
To fill a glass
To drink from
SPOILS OF WAR - Verbatim writing from archived voice recordings of people talking about their experience of WW2
RUN RABBIT RUN
You would hear the Luftwaffe bombers
there were messages on the cinema screen;
‘Have you seen this lad?’
This was my response to the war effort…
I found my way
I put the helmet on
A toy soldiers outfit
A sudden piercing whistle
I was an only child:
My parents died when I was young
They had no children.
Fairly independent you know.
…the beginning of the Second World War
they would like to have kept me.
He was in the Royal Scotts.
He had only one leg.
Their lives on the line
that became redemptive
At the age of six I found my way
as the bombs exploded
people would start singing
which was perhaps indicative.
I could hear the flashes and hear the bangs:
Run. Rabbit. Run.
YOUNG PILOTS
We were shot at by German ack ack.
I had never had a shot fired in anger at me,
from my point of view extremely worrying.
I was smartly detached
they got away with it.
My name was called over the tannoy
It wasn’t necessary.
I saw them in the air for the first time in large numbers.
It was a very dry summer,
I did feel unwanted at this time.
I was left with ground crew.
How can I describe it?
You didn’t stay as a solid machine
everybody disappeared anyway
except the people, they had all departed,
very wise
To the unknown quantity of a hurricane
at 2.30 in the morning just as day was about to break
it gradually started to warm up.
Retreat, anxiety, lack of knowledge of what was going on;
We were going
backwards
the
whole
time.
It was a long time ago
we only stayed there for lunch.
I had my 21st birthday at Hawkins.
We still took casualties:
They did not encourage marriage amongst the young pilots.
THERE’S THEM PEOPLE
We would do church parades on Sunday mornings. Quite often
stones would be thrown at us. We came from that church. I wore
A little sailors hat and a lanyard.
I think it was a better place to live then, than it is now.
____________________________
During the Blitz we were evacuated. That’s where we moved to.
The whole family. The only conveyance we could find to move
Us. a horse and cart belonging to the local coal merchant.
There were unexploded bombs apparently.
I remember looking between the horse’s ears.
____________________________
We lived in an air raid shelter. An Adnerson air rain shelter
In the back yard. Most people had one if possible. It was a
Sort of earthwork thing. Made with corrugated sheeting. Like a
Sort of corrugated fascia. They said it was dangerou to stay
In the houses. There were bunks inside. For six weeks.
____________________________
Out street was known as the street of cushions. Ladies liked
To put their silky cushions in the window. We were known as
The street of cushions. I dont’ think we were posh. My father
Didnt comme home. They used to say;
‘There’s them people.’
That’s a bit of a story as well.
____________________________
PUFFER TRAIN
We had a leather shop.
We had a lovely cake and coffee.
We were living in a very nice house.
There was no anti-semitism that I knew.
Not in that village.
Half the population must have been jewish.
We used to go to a beer garden and play boules.
You had all the time in the world.
We had a lovely synagogue. Quite a big one. When the organist was ill, I used to play the organ. There was a garden. They had a lovely apple tree. My grandmother used to have an apple with cloves. We played in the garden. We went every Sabbath.
Unfortunately, the synagogue was burned when all the synagogues were burned.
It was like one big family.
They put up a memorial only about five or six years ago.
The authorities paid for the upkeep of the cemeteries. Quite a sizeable cemetery. Our maid, she looked after the graves of my parents.
They were a very sizeable family.
We used to go up on the steps and jump down on the hay. That was absolutely fantastic. Then we used to go and watch the slow trains passing through the village. As little children we waited for the little puffer train to go through it.
On the railways of course. The signals were down.
BOMBERS - my response to the verbatim from my fathers memories.
John sang: “Bombers, Bombers, Bombers, bombers.”
We slept in a double bed with coats on top. She pushed and pulled us to the Anderson shelter. Mother was frightening. There were hundreds of children. I loved trains. I had a train book. They said they couldn't keep my brother John and me together. All the rabbits were gone.
Mother prepared us to be evacuated. Gas masks. One suitcase each. Itchy vests. Brown cardboard label we wore around our necks. Mother said something would happen to us.
John sang: “Bombers, bombers, bombers, bombers.”
Father dug an Anderson shelter in the mud in the back yard. We would go there every night. Cold and filled with water up to a foot high if it had been raining. We had a little stove and drank bovril from our rations. Father wasn’t there.
Mother was frantic. She shouted at us to get our coats and boots. I lost my stamp collection. The Anderson shelter was dug out of the rubble. She told us she would make magic to protect us and keep the bombers away.
John sang: “Bombers, bombers, bombers, bombers.”
The whole street was flattened. We hid in the cupboard under the stairs instead. She wouldn’t let us leave with strangers.
My neighbour had pet rabbits, white ones, black ones and blackie-white ones. We jumped from bed and ran downstairs but they were right over head. Mother gripped my hand so tightly that my fingertips went white. Half the class was missing. No one said anything.
I could hear Mother breathing. I was deaf for two weeks. I couldn’t protect him. I went to school two days later. She would die of a broken heart.