ALL TOGETHER NOW LADS! Wind farm blade, wind farm blade, Everything you want from a Wind farm blade. We're all going on a beer hunt lads! From hanging town, brief encounters, To Holke hang out, submariner sheds, We’re getting our names up in those causeway lights! HEYSHAM HIGH HOPES Spot the jogging bishop with a … Continue reading Poetry on the Hoof: The (rail) road to Barra
You’re not going to believe this, but it’s true (enough). Me and the lads were out on the park tonight cheering and jeering each other as usual on a Monday night when what do you know but a postman rides up to us on his pre Second World War rickety rackety bike, rummages around in … Continue reading Confessions of an Ageing Football Player: I will be that Bolshevik!
In an age of shortening fuses, tempers, and attention spans not many of us have enough time or inclination to read much beyond the first few syllables of a poem, novel or academic treatise. See, I’ve lost you already. The hashtag poem series acknowledges this poor state of affairs and instead of plying you with … Continue reading Poetry on the Hoof: Hashtag Poems
When I was ten I scored my first goal ever in a school football match. I was standing somewhere on the pitch facing in the right kind of direction peering into the mist which hovered over the mud and slowly, out of the king fisher blue of the sky looped this large leather ball towards … Continue reading Confessions of an Ageing Football Player: Into the Heart of Darkness.
73 – nil! Those were the days: moments of glory on the school playing field on a foggy Wednesday afternoon when the final whistle went and your school mates would gather around you, beaming their small faces at you from every conceivable direction as they congratulated you fulsomely on the 23 hat tricks you have … Continue reading Confessions of an Ageing Footballer: Russia 2,018: My Team 2,019
Once upon a time there was a castle which was crumbling from the foundations upwards. The white ants had been busy over the years and whilst the facade looked stable, the foundations had powdered to ashes and the ashes had powdered to dust and the dust had blown away in the cruel winds of fortune. … Continue reading Rust, dust and lust: a cautionary tale of resilience.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m very, very sorry, For the delays, the disruption, the chaos, we've brought To your daily routine. We’re sorry the tram stopped running, We’re sorry the bus driver forgot to turn up for work, We’re sorry the road’s been dug up over night, We’re all sorry, sorry, very very sorry. Sorry … Continue reading Poetry on the Hoof: Soz.
King Arthur's Great Hall was built in the 1930s by a custard millionaire whose company is thought to have invented the confection "hundreds and thousands". The Halls of Chivalry are built from 53 different types of stone and are big enough to hold 1000 people. Whall designed 72 stained glass windows which tell the story … Continue reading Stories on Whall’s: King Arthur’s Hall, Tintagel, Cornwall.