played on a concertina
john oconnell
Sep 17, 2010


played on a concertina

in the dreamy hours

of a June night


on the shores

of the far reaches

of Connemara

as we confessed

many sorrows

and ample joys

with a northern glint

in the sky.

to make our love brave concertina wire,
Feb 3, 2011

Time and distance has conspired
to make our love brave concertina wire,
while this may be an over statement of our case,
nonetheless, you and I have the wounds to prove it.

All rights reserved by the author
I saw the concertina
Jonny Angel
Jonny Angel
Jun 14, 2014

I rumbled
around Folsom prison
& watched the water
tumble over the dam.
I saw the concertina
wrapped tightly
at the top
of the fences
& wondered if
the armed boys in the tower
would shoot me
if I took off my boots
to swim
in the cool
refreshing waters.

Then I thought to myself,
"Naw, I'd better not,
think I'll swim a mile
or two away,
it's safer that way!"

Their concertina is silent.

Stairs fly as straight as hawks;
Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausing
At a ledge to poise their wings before relaunching.
Stairs sway at the height of their flight
Like a melody in Tristan;
Or swoop to the ground with glad spread of their feathers
Before they close them.

They curiously investigate
The shells of buildings,
A hollow core,
Shell in a shell.

Useless to produce their path to infinity
Or turn it to a moral symbol,
For their flight is ambiguous, upwards or downwards as you please;
Their fountain is frozen,
Their concertina is silent.

concertina wire decorations
S Lyman Temple BS
S Lyman Temple BS
Dec 29, 2014

icy breath sends neck hairs
to attention
frozen bleakness takes the shape of
crystalized dew
speckling the wall
twenty feet high solid concrete
concertina wire decorations
‘tis the season –
holiday bliss as reminiscent prisoners
wax nostalgic
and shift sad eyes when discussing
dry turkey
with beaten and battered cranberries
logistically, the state could not afford
all the trimmings for 3000
so donated feast materials
get the highest of praise –
raising toasts
to over-bearing guards
as the time of year
transcends fear and mere hatred
together they spend another Christmas
inmates and officer
blessed in an un-holy union –

below glistening concertina wire
S Lyman Temple BS
S Lyman Temple BS
Apr 30, 2014

purple Lupines
create a foreground effect
below glistening concertina wire
as the morning sun shines down
the prison in April blooms forth
despite itself –

goslings, tan with black spots
stop traffic
forcing recognition of nature
in a place void of hope
springtime blessing the groundskeepers
and those fortunate enough to have been given yard time
blue skies only corrupted by chemical spray –

        laughing inmates break my concentration as a pigeon lands on  
           barred windows
               a cool breeze creeps in diluting the stale air

education floor buzzes with activity
as forgotten men seek to become more
I sit encouraged by light bulbs –

crackling radio signals the line movement
round two of handshakes and polite jokes
another hour and twenty minutes of magic
I quietly sit back and smile at the scene laid before me
no student has more fire for education
than a man who thought himself less than nothing

this concertina is playing this our heart strings pluck
Nov 13, 2014

   in small steps go up in cadence
go higher in volume raise intensity feel
the growth tap a foot fast then faster soft then
louder tap tap tap    beat against the floor keep pace call out
   my name  I am
the maestro you are a prima donna
this concertina is playing this our heart strings plucked sweetness and sound growing in volume in density I scream hear your bravo!!!
I return, Bellissimo!!!

Concertina wire
May 19, 2013      May 19, 2013

Arms at her sides
Hangin' like a noose loop
Radio music sporadic static
Choking on some air waves

Her heart is locked up
She keeps it in the bottom drawer
Her house is surrounded by chain-link
Concertina wire

Shes too good for you
She has a picnic alone
Feeding crumbs to the ants

So grown up and independent
I thinks its just chemical imbalance
Are you still waking up
To the shotgun blast alarm clock
Sleeping in the pitch black
Washing dishes burning matches
Watching television addict

Too young
To have it all figured out
Halfway through
You'll choke on the pieces

Dog on a short chain
Too good for me
She's too busy curing cancer
And feeling sorry for herself

Someone told me what you said
I was a piece of shit hick
Drug addict rat
Because you know me?

I've got a strong chin
Been hit  harder than that
There's the door

The concertina wire
Jonny Angel
Jonny Angel
May 18, 2014

I rolled into that city
sometime after midnight,
had been fighting
my peepers from closing
since sunset.

I wore shades to hide my eyes,
sixteen hours on the interstate
had made me feel like toast,
less than human,
a bit comatose
& I needed a room.

My pointed boots
accented my slim jeans
& I moved through
the lobby with ease,
as if I were a ghost.

I could feel the disease
in that place,
bars were in the windows
& hookers glanced
around nervously.
The concertina wire
should have been a clue.

And without a sound,
I slithered back
to my spaceship
& moved southward,
onward toward El Paso.

With one more to go,
I floored myself
into hyperspace,
had to get
out of that place
vroom vroom.

would concertina and merge.
Nigel Morgan
Nigel Morgan
Jan 11, 2014      Jan 12, 2014


I learnt this week
that time and distance
can be friends to memory
their respective lengths
only wet and sharpen
the edge of love

but for us dear friend
we hold hard to hope
that we may
one day soon
share the present
and live each moment
in each other's heart.


Hearing you on Holkham beach
- whose soul is greater than the ocean
whose spirit stronger than the sea -
did I doubt for a moment
that you, though buffeted
by a cold east wind
would never age for me,
nor fade, nor die.
Nor you for me (she said)
Goodbye, my love,
a thousand times goodbye.
Write me well (she said)
and turned and ran.


The Reedham ferry was but a river's width
and yet I stood at the water's brink
and watched the reeds quiver in the wind,
watched the rain splatter on the puddled path.

All around to the human eye
this valley, a plain of grassland
broken only by reed-fringed pools,
was a gentle, unpeopled, easy place.

The absence of relief left
no fixed frame of reference.
Places apart from one another
would concertina and merge.

Tempted to cross I waved a no
to the ferryman in his quayside hut
then turned and walked quickly
back down the long, low road.

Acknowledgements to Mark Cocker and Tom Stoppard
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