Wednesday, October 16, 2019

SHIP-CAPTAIN'S LOG: 292 (B)

Editor of Saltburn Scene, various flyers in the city of York, contributor to Pattaya Trader (Thailand), published in various booklets and magazines, broadcast on regional radio and published in local press, appearance on BBC 2 television (among other Teesside poets), postcard from pop poet Brian Patten and letter of gratitude from Prince Charles as to climate change (1989), my invite to two musicians on their way to being celebs to visit Saltburn by-the-sea, with any of their future celeb friends, led to Hollywood stars and pop/rock stars visiting after a Teesside all-star gig, using the alleyway by my then home, and which could do with a plaque stating 'Stardust Alley'. Will this come about? Read on for more information between sets of my verse-poems. A couple more SHIP-CAPTAIN'S LOGS before the informative pieces that were published in MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP flyers that - like all my publications - carry verse-poems too and other writings, apart from a publication that carries my playlets/satirical sketches, which were first published in some of my 33 poetry booklets, from 1988 to 1992 (when I founded Saltburn Scene).

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 292 (A)

UP THE WRONG TREE BARK
The group was seated
at the sit-in,
awaited the studious poet
to start, to begin,
or the stony silence to break
with the drop of a pin.

He stood there quiet
as the bark on a tree,
might have stood longer
than is my memory
of the man who cried "Timber,"
loud and suddenly.

THE WHITE HOUSE BUILT JACK
There in the huge-garden
all his flowers wilt,
and the rooms are empty
in the house that Jack built.
"It is his white elephant,"
village folk are heard to say,
"it is the guy's own folly,
the man's money-throwaway.
But it is no use him crying
over white milk spilt,
though white as a ghost
Jack who the house built."

AN UNDERGROUND POETRY PIECE
The magician was to put his hand
in the upturned top-hat,
while the jumpy rabbit inside
wouldn't have any of that.
It bolted along the lengthy tunnel
that was the big hat's top,
down to a poetry underworld
the rabbit was then to hop.
"Welcome to our Wonderland,"
said the magic poetry lines
that were written on the walls
of that shiny diamond mine.
But almost an eternity later
the rabbit just had to go,
and headed for the spotlight
like that in the stage-magician's show.
Yet the grand circle of light
was the tunnel's very end come,
and the rabbit was to exit
to the loud applause of everyone.
The people were now fluffy bunnies...
what conjurer's trick ? What scheming ?
The rabbit had to pinch itself,
but the child Alice woke from her dreaming.

Tuesday, October 15, 2019

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 291 (E)

ROMEO AND JULIET
Romeo seeks love on the Internet,
"Where are you my Juliet ?
Why have I not found you yet ?"
Juliet seeks love with a dating ad,
life is lonely, cruel and sad,
all the girl's boyfriends turn out bad.
"Where are you, my Romeo ?"
But a fairy story is long ago."

A PANTOMIME PYRATE
Lady I's a Long-John,
a Long-John-Silver ooh.
Yes lady I's a Long-John,
a Long-John just fo' you.

Girl I's a Long-John,
member of a motley-crew.
Pieces-of-eight, pieces-of-eight,
pieces-of-eight I got fo' you.

Yo ho ho and yo ho ho,
beach brown eyes 'ave you.
Arr lady I's a Long-John
whose eyes are ocean-blue.

Girl I's a Long-John,
come 'n' cruise wi me.
I'll be your sailor-boy,
you m' pretty-sailor-lady."

A WOMAN IN MY WHISKERS
I am the cat, you are the cream,
I am the sleeper, you are the dream.
I am the moon, you are the sheen.
I am the riverbank, you are the stream.

I am the dancer, you are the waltz,
you are the swoon, I am the salts.
I am the head, you are the hat,
you are the cream, and I the cat.



for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 291 (D)

DIAGNOSIS: A DREAMER
The doctors say I've got it bad,
the nurses cry "how sad, how sad,
he's a romantic, that is for sure,
draw the blind, there is no cure."

My head upon the pillow I lie,
of this disease I am bound to die,
don't bring me fruit or the latest news,
let me wallow in my love-struck blues.

"Who is it did this ?" people ask
as the nurse applies the oxygen mask,
and though my life I'll one day lose,
I will forever love the poet's Muse.

LIVE LILLIPUT
There I was walking tall
here in the land of the small.
I viewed the markets of the mean,
shops and stalls were my every scene.
The little people of Lilliput
tried to bind me hand and foot
for being so big of such thought
as not to buy into and nor be bought.

THUMB TOM A LIFT
Tom thumbs for a ride,
towards him the motors glide,
but he is too small to be spied,
very minute.

Tom thumbs for a ride,
by him the drivers glide,
there is no space inside,
nor will they have him in their boot.

Tom thumbs for a ride,
past him the motors glide,
"Strangers today are just suicide."
The man gets the hoot.

SHIPPING-CAMEL AND
SHADY-OASIS COUPLE
As their ship of the desert
rests in the shade of the palms,
so she rests her head -
free from all harm -
on her lover's breast
and is thirsty no more.
Her man not a mirage
but a dream lover for sure.




Monday, October 14, 2019

SHIP-CAPTAIN'S LOG

There is another Captain's Log, and another Captain Mark. There is also a footballer called Mark Beevers. I am, of course, neither of these two. This is captainmarkb.blogspot.com (Mark B). The B for Beevers, or Busy Beevers, ha. An anagram of my full name is A Verse Maker Be. Read on to hear about SALTBURN'S STARDUST ALLEY, my letter of thanks from Prince Charles in 1989 too. Writings dispersed among the great many verse-poems from when first published in 1988. Cheers mateys, Captain Mark, or Mark B !!

for MIDDLESBROUGH MAGIC SHIP 291 (C)

TWIN SPIRITS
Where the otter swam
with the mermaid and merman,
the trout leapt, the salmon too...
where the dam
had not been a dam
and on his pipes old Pan blew,
and blew like the breeze
through the flowers and trees
his tunes, timeless and true,
which brought centaurs to their knees,
there to swat among the fairies
while on the backs of swallows other fairies flew,
and danced the fauns
by the unicorns
and the nymphs sang. But only the sun now shines through.
It is here, my love,
like the turtle dove,
that we bill and coo.
Yes here, my love,
I the hand to your glove,
where the petals, the leaves, in the glistening dew
stick to our skins,
and we are spirit twins
who roll like the river
once used to.

A WOMAN WATCHES IN THE WOOD
Nor the dipper-bird in its diving
beneath the viaduct by the waterfall,
nor the force of the river in its driving
towards the sea and the sea's call,
nor the lilac that bends in the breeze
farther down at Rushpool Hall,
nor the squirrel that skips in the trees
or the hedgehog in its prickly ball
know the heart of the watchful girl
dives, drives, bends, skips and curls.

WAS A NOBODY ?
They call the man a has-been,
but it does not bother him because,
it is so much better to have been,
than to be a body who never-was.

WHAT SAW A BUTLER
Milady in the raw
was what the butler saw,
the nude chauffeur on his knees.
The cook - if you please -
he spied just as clear
where she swung from the chandelier.
Her ladyship cracked her crop
and his lordship would not stop
as he hurried round a track
with a saddle on his very-back.
He would have joined his employer
were the butler not a voyeur.
Now as a storyteller
his book is a best-seller.

A PLUME FOR MY PRINCESS
Perhaps she'll puff with peacock pride
for the prize of the pretty plume -
blue and green as is the sea,
bronze like the sun, gold like the moon,
Hera-honoured and Argus-eyed -
goes to she, yes goes to she,
the girl who brings colour to the room.

GO GOBLIN
There came a curious creature,
a spurious sort of sprite,
who rode on the back of a minute mare
whom he was heard to call Night.
His lies were far from thin,
indeed his fables were fat,
and the horrid little man kept pulling
the tail of the girl's pet cat.
"You are such a cruel creature,"
the young princess said,
"for so small a being
you have a very big head.
You dare to spin tall stories,
weave for me enormous lies,
would even have my cat believe
you are really giant-size.
Were I not fast asleep
I would call my father's guard
to come in and bang your head,
to come in and bang it hard.
But I know I must be dreaming
and that you are just not there,
so begone now, little man,
on Night, your tiny mare."

THE DRINK LONG AND COOL
The
man
stands
tall
and
quiet
so
the
good-
looking
girl
might
think...
he'd
quench
her
thirst
like
a
cool
and
long
drink.

BY THE THREAD A WORLD HANG
Hang
the
world
by
a
fine
thread
because
we've
a
conker
for
a
head.

SET SAIL FOR NOWHERE
Where venture I the voyager
while the wyvern flies
and breath-blows my boat-sails
as sparkle the night's many eyes ?

More eyes than heads the hydra,
more eyes than limbs the octopus,
so the night looks down on me
and the dragon blows me thus,

as I journey from this island
I compare to a giant whale
that falls in a deep slumber
and sleeps too its tail,

and so starts to sink
beneath the waves of the sea.
I sail for a far-off world
of myth, of fancy, of fantasy.

(A wyvern is a type of dragon.
Whales are said to only half-sleep,
their fin-tails still active)

Monday, October 7, 2019

SHIP-CAPTAIN'S LOG (SALTBURN'S STARDUST ALLEY)

A 'Stardust Alley' plaque for the Albion Terrace to Glenside rear lane leading to the woods and seafront, past my then side door ? Yes, why not. My community magazine, Saltburn Scene, did much for Saltburn by-the-sea (1992 - 2000), spawning much later copyists, and helped to bring 'bus-loads' of Hollywood celebs and pop/rock stars, various royals and MPs to the town, using the alleyway, as I suggested long before their visit, to avoid the town centre. More information on this following the next few verse-poems. Cheers mateys, Captain Mark (anagram: A Verse Maker Be).