"mersey" poems
Liverpool on the Irish sea
Tuebrook, Toxteth and Wavertree
Home of the beatles and full Mersey beats
and yummy scouse is no mean feats
Baby beetroot served on top
and when it rains its no mean flop
you can visit museums or travel abroad
from railway or airport to the norwegian fjord
City of culture for two thousand and eight
why not have the day here or more with your mate
book on national express or take a fast train
and sing sounds of liverpool with a merry refrain
it's the home of 3 graces who welcome you home
and all will be proved with google chrome
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
Mud is good,
Its dead good mud,
It's in me blood,
But where not understood,
Us people of mud,
In the shadow of a gas tank and born on a Mersey bank, I lived on cobbled streets dark and dank,
I played on a ship that sank, and for anything else I wouldn’t thank....... you
On king street docks, girls in cheap frocks, curly locks, time tocks, the boat rocks,
The tanyard smell made life hell for all that dwell, under the bridge,
In Garston L19, it’s the scene, its clean, it’s where I’ve been, it’s not obscene or green, if you know what I mean.
Its community security sincerity and every other word that ends with erity,
But it’s fallen apart,
Don’t lose heart.
I go into town when I’m down, it clears me frown,
I don’t go in me jarmies or me dressin gown,
There’s men with round bellies, toddlers in wellies,
Posh ladies gather in their marks and spencer swagger,
There’s scouse brow teens, sunbed queens,
Hunks and punks, lonely drunks,
Suits in boots forgetting their roots and hens in *****
Big issue sellers, statue fellas holding golf umbrellas,
Coz of all the rain,
But it’s all good, coz we come from mud,
Let’s cheer, why?
Coz I’m here,
I’m me, me names T, and me hubbys P me best friends she..... lagh,
I like coffee and toffee and Roger Mcgoughy,
I like statistics logistics eye shadow and lipsticks,
I like bags and wags and cigarette **** but not beer,
I’m fine on wine if I take me time,
I don’t do a line, unless I’m hanging me washing on it,
I work in a bar, not far, I don’t drive a car, and I don’t say Lar or kid or lad or lid or mar,
I’m proud and loud, don’t live on a cloud, and I don’t follow the crowd,
I’m a mum to some, I’ve got a big round *** but I’m me you see,
I’m not square, I dye me hair, I swear but you can take me anywhere,
Coz I care,
I’m good,
I’m mud; it’s in me blood,
Understood
By Christina Ford
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
First Kiss (Manchester to Miami)
Rachel was a 19 year old student who attended the
Royal Northern College of Music, located in Manchester UK.
Manchester was considered the arts, media, higher education
and commerce mecca of north central England. Bordered by the
Cheshire plain to the south, and the Pennines mountain range
to the north and east. The famous River Mersey ran along the
southern side of Manchester. Rachel was packing for winter
holiday with some of her classmates, to the warm beaches of
Miami Florida, for a week long stay in the sun, far from the
often dreary weather that settled over the UK this time of year.
Not only was Rachel looking forward to the warm weather and
sunny skies but she was looking forward to meeting up with Daniel.
Daniel was a 40 something musician, beach bartender, handyman,
who lived just outside of Miami. They had met on a poetry website
seven months prior, and had established a warm friendship.
They communicated almost daily threw emails, chat sites
and through poetry exchanges. Their friendship had become
more romantic in the last month or so, talking that silly love talk
that new lovers used, and Rachel finished off every meeting with the
initials AKTY at the end. AKTY stood for angel kisses to you,
as Daniel liked to refer to her as his angel. they both were very
excited about the chance to see each other, face to face.
Rachel knew that the majority of Daniels poetry was slanted
toward the romance side, and she knew from their conversations
that he seemed to be educated, gentle and romantic. She was,
they were, both looking forward to spending an evening together,
holding hands,caressing each other, looking into each others eyes,
and..... that first kiss. Kiss kiss kiss kiss
hard rock guitars, lights and smoke
Kiss, that first kiss, this is what, loves all about
kiss, your sweet kiss, makes me go crazy, scream and shout
your kiss, that angel kiss, can't live with out it, you drive me mad
one kiss, just one kiss, from your sweet lips, blows my mind real bad
don't know how I got by before you
never want to try it no never again
my darlin angel I adore you,
since I met you you know i've been
crazy, I've gone crazy, just can't get enuff, of you sweet baby
dreaming, got me dreaming, every night baby, I don't mean maybe
every kiss, like your first kiss, sets me ablaze, you know it takes me higher
another kiss, I want another kiss, turn the flames up like a funeral pyre
don't wanna try to get along without you
never want to try it no never again
my darlin angel I adore you,
since I met you been waiting for that first kiss
Gomer LePoet
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 8:58 PM UTC
My sister boasted to me one night in a Liverpool pub
She had *** with a couple of coppers down the Mersey Tunnel.
'You're nothing bit a fat slapper' I scolded her,
As she examined the selfie I had taken
Just a few moments earlier of me
And her best friend up against the ladies' bog door.
"Good likeness, innit?" I commented and the
She farted stentoriously in surprise and,
The follow-through oozed down her dimpled thigh.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
Up to the North
Down to the South
Keep the ships feeding
The big Mersey's mouth
14 big docks
And 19 big stops
Dad's got big hands
He works at the 'Brock'
He's seen Alexandra
And Nelson too
He passes the Princes
On the way to the 'Loo
Jump off at the Sandon
For a bevvy with Joe
Saturday's half day
To the match he will go
The merchants at Toxteth
Are rubbing their hands
There's money in shipping
And at Seaforth Sands
Jump off at Pier Head
If yer wearing a shirt
Stay on till Herculaneum
To get covered in dirt
The EMUs keeping rolling
From morning til night
Our dockers umbrella
What a beautiful sight
copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 3:13 PM UTC
And in that wild berlin winter
I twirled ghosts through the frozen, concrete streets
Out of bohemian jungles in the midnight afternoon
I returned to the States with terrible ennui
Slumped on cold buses
I flew through Hamburg in an ***** haze
Smoking joints in the lantern lit glow of Amsterdam
I didn’t eat for 3 days
I rode the train to Zoo Station
And flitted about East Berlin
Where there was no excitement to be had
Walking the night alone in the bitter, biting wind
I took the ferry over to England
Safe in the Mersey’s mystical, dreary mist
I hid my tired eyes under my fisherman’s cap
And found an expanse of quiet, precious bliss
Ailing from nights spent on streets and stranger’s floors
I was a child, traveling alone
Disenchanted by my youthful escapades,
Cured of the plaguing desire to ramble and roam.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC
Fifty years ago this week
Sgt. Pepper he began to speak
Hidden deep just like a motley fool
Inside four boys from Liverpool
It took four lads as inspiration
to bring hope to a crying nation
After November's assassination
They grabbed us...we held on
John, Paul, George and Ringo
on Ed's Sunday Show
We sat back and watched them go
They grabbed us...we held on
They came and held the hand
Of a still in mourning land
A little skiffle band
They grabbed us...we held on
We were brought back from the dark side
We were on a rock and roll ride
With four young lads from Mersey Side
They grabbed us...we held on
They grabbed our hearts and souls
They expanded musics goals
They all had different roles
they grabbed us...we held on
In times...things were changing
The band was re-arranging
No more tours were staging
They grabbed us...we held on
Soon, they all went on their way
McCartney sang "Another Day"
John, he had a lot to say
George and Ringo...just played on
John was shot at decades start
It shocked the world and broke apart
Those who held him in our heart
The Beatles were no more
George died too, all things must pass
He always had a silent class
The parts aren't greater than the mass
The Beatles were no more
Is there anyone out in the land
Who will come and take us by the hand
I hope that you will understand
They grabbed us...we held on
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
On the door the sign it says "Open mike" come in and listen if you like
Get a drink and take a seat come listen to others things
Songs galore, old and new. If you want get up too.
But no you *** you want to heckle and berate someone, oh your special.
So special you came straight from the gym didn't shower and you stink
Your head is topped with a mersey **** oh I'm sorry its your hair
****** this and I'll do that, hot air from a skanks mouth
Well this morning I feel really good because last night I met you
My life may never be the same in fact next week I'll come again
If you open your foul scouse mouth, I'll get up and read this out!
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
is different for each meandering
but arises unbidden though there
must be a prompt a spring a welling-
up that begins to trickle down the page
as the current courses down this arm
to fingertips grippimg the pen lightly
but firm enough to make the marks
and trickle a stream to slake again
my thirst. Wyre ? Ribble ? Mersey ?
Thames ? Rhine ? Danube ? Ganges ?
Amazon - yes immense over life as Amazon.
(c) C J Heyworth
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
Mersey Ferry, Mersey Ferry,
Go across the sea,
Take them a Daffodil,
Take them an Iris,
Tell them I love them
And tell them I care
Return them back safely
And you shall be queens
So, go bring my loved ones
Back home to me
copyright/all rights reserved Joe Fogg 2011
Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 2:46 PM UTC
Born in Beverley, to Holme on spalding Moor
Leven and Knaresborough opened up the door
Ripon was the first time to leave my home so true
Parents to New Zealand Boo hoo Boo hoo Boo hoo
Auckland to Tauranga and finally home to stay
Southport and York not quite montego bay
on to the edge of the world at kingston upon Hull
before the move to Bridlington to live a life so full
and then the move that made all moves Liverpool it was
I love the life of the mersey it really is the boss
I'm so made up to feel the love and life of the Mersey beat
Tuebrook Toxteth and wavertree are places I've moved my feet
I am really privilaged to see the windows of the world
from Singapore and Scotland and Australia's fields of gold
I've been to Canada, America and Luxemburg as well
The windows of the world in a small nut shell
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
When the sun sets on the Mersey bank,
And the clouds have gone to sleep,
When the promenade falls quiet and still,
The Mersey fairies peep,
When the tide has left for fairer shores,
And the boats are at their berth,
When the moon shimmers on the silvery bed,
They appear from the ancient earth,
Like fireflies beneath the dock,
They search through fields of mud,
Finding objects to take back home,
Like bottle tops and wood,
They flutter on the river breeze,
They're carried to the wreck,
They stay and play here for a while,
Throwing pebbles from the deck,
Whisping in and out of trees,
And flying up the street,
They stop outside a cottage door,
And wipe their muddy feet,
They creep in through the broken frame,
Into the cottage mill,
The smell of burning coal is strong,
They settle on the sill,
They warm their fragile bodies,
And shake about their wings,
Their comforts interrupted,
By an angelic voice that sings,
Upstairs there is a little girl,
Who combs her locks so long,
They watch with eyes of gold and green,
As she continues with her song,
The sprites see their reflection,
In the looking glass afoot,
They see their muddy faces,
Their clothing full of soot,
They scarper pretty quickly,
And cause a noisy thud,
They whisp and fly there way back home,
There home beneath the mud.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
I've reached Mecca.
10 Mathew Rd.
Blessed Beat Les Musique;
In the middle of this winding road.
(Son les mots)
Mersey shook the world
In the beginning;
In the end,
It sailed across the universe.
I get a feeling
Beneath this burning neon sign.
"The Cavern".
I imagine
I hear:
"I am he
And you are he..."
Peaking above holy ground.
Don't ask why
We said the things
We said today.
That weight is heavy.
Life is our hellos and goodbyes,
Good mornings and good nights.
And when I'm down,
And am so tired,
And when you needed someone,
We worked it out... back then.
Why worry over yesterday,
Let things be.
I'd hold your hand
As we descend
The thirty-three steps;
And there, stand again
Like we're seventeen;
Before the altar of song.
In this crypt I'm a child in line,
Buying tickets.
Now hold tight
As the two of us
Twist and twirl and shout.
I'm happy to dance with you.
From this cellar,
Rose sons of man,
To sing and teach
Of love and peace,
And the brotherhood
Of man.
Let's ascend the stairs, darling.
It's getting better.
The sun is out.
The moon follows.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
i was thinking of the cavern club just the other daywhere in the sixties all the groups would playthere was lots bands who came from miles around they put it all together and made the mersey soundmy favourite was the beatles in there beatle suitswith there beatle haircut and winkle picker bootsthere was john and george paul and ringo toothey made lots of songs that everybody knew.there was many others so many i cant namethe beatles were the ones that always had the famethe music is still around to this very daythe sounds of the sixties will never go away
Mar 2, 2010
Mar 2, 2010 at 8:30 AM UTC
Dark sky looms overhead across the Mersey
Like a blanket of grey candy floss
Creeps ever closer and the cold bite of evening comes
People walk without smiles to occupied to notice each other
In summer they would glance and smile, exchange words
Now the bite of the cold new year bows their heads in symmetry.
They sit on the bus pods in place shutting out all around
Trying to make the journey home in a shroud of invisibility
If you don't see or hear it doesn't happen does it?
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
The distant laughter broken by the waves of the Mersey is rushing through my ears,
The barbeque smells of burning lunches fill my eyes with salty tears,
Children's laughter carries along the promenade straight,
Puppy dogs playing at the old rusted gate,
This is the sound of my summer,
Teens on skateboards scratch down the path and weave,
Mobile phones beeping as the sun begins to breathe,
Cyclists whizzing by in a world of their own,
Kites flying high with excitement like they've never been flown,
This is the sound if my summer,
Gulls screeching loudly but somehow in tune,
Girls watching boys, their wavy hair they plume,
The breeze carries music from north to north west,
Sometimes getting lost under conversations and jest,
This is the sound of my summer,
Waves trickle gently onto the flats of mud,
A place where my ancestors once had stood,
No footprints linger on the darkened rich bank,
Just the waves trickling gently around the ship that once sank,
This is the sound of my summer,
As the evening drawers near a silence will fall,
The promenade will empty and the shadows stand tall,
The Mersey will settle to a soft and gentle flow,
The birds bring the night as the sun prepares to go,
This is the sound of my summer.
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC
i was thinking of the cavern club just the other day
where in the nineteen sixties. all the groups would play.
there was lots bands who came from miles around
they put it all together and made the mersey sound.
my favourite was the beatles in there beatle suits
with there beatle haircut and winkle picker boots
there was john and george paul and ringo too
they made lots of songs that everybody knew.
there was many others so many i cant name
the beatles were the ones that always had the fame
there musics still around to this very day
the sounds of the sixties will never go away
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
On the door the sign it says "Open mic" come in and listen if you like.
Get a drink and take a seat come listen to others things.
Songs galore, old and new.
If you want get up too.
But no you *** you want to heckle and berate someone, oh your special.
So special you came straight from the gym, didn't shower and you stink
Your head is topped with a mersey **** oh I'm sorry it's your hair.
****** this and I'll do that, hot air from a skanks mouth
Well this morning I feel really good because last night I met you.
My life may never be the same in fact next week I'll come again.
If you open your foul scouse mouth, I'll get up and read this out!
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
Before sleep, I hear their ghosts
Across the dark, as the air blues
Into the cold hour
Up there beneath Orion
They trace a glint of water
Locked to the lodestone of their fragile skulls
Their winter mother calling them home
Crying Mersey, Mersey
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 6:23 AM UTC
one hundred gormleys staring gormlessly out to sea
looking for who knows what at the **** end of the mersey
we cant find a *** to **** in in the midst of the city
but theyll keep searching earnestly for the rest of eternity
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
trainers? who the ****
needs new trainers?
i want the sort of music
i can cry to...
oh...
right...all alclohlics
don't cry genuine
tears...
well..
hello *******
paedohpile priest
child molly-molly
****** what?
i thought i was told
that crying
over classical
music
was taboo?
sure, sure, like... me...
'ere 'ere...
best of a 2 h
screen shot,
not having spet
watching
a washine machine cycle,
or what some people
call, "conspiracy theory"
by, moo'd'ern'
stand'oods...
what?
oh right... ****
**** without a samurai
sword agitation,
must be a white thing...
is that even a...
a...
an even...
a that...
a a...
you want to play
this game?
i keep forgetting
to play it...
but i undermine myself
with a reminder...
there's genuine
interest
in donning this
shit-fest
of the clash,
*** the beatles...
mersey... come
the thames...
like i said before...
you can't provide a stable environment
for island dwelling
people...
freaks!
unless...
they are mutually
exclusionary...
"off"... their "fellow"...
invading barbarians...
oh sure...
the native communities changed...
come the 1950s...
but with the european migrantion
from the late 00s...
of the expansion
of the european union?
don't worry...
most of the pollacks left...
you're just left
with the ********** ****
gangs...
no worries!
chill! chill!
what are you getting hot &
bothered about?!
chill!
i'm no jew,
i'm not existentially..
globak pro...
fugitive...
the english bird
high up 'n' arms...
protectionist...
while all you want to do...
is **** a
sydney watson
or a delta goodrem...
bad ******* idea to send off
convicts...
what?!
who's bewldered playing
a who's who?
do i look like a ******* stalemate
of an englishman?
i need 1980s pop songs!
what?
i'm a sensitive beast
with a lack
for a concern for a sense
of humour!
whar?!
i don't like
humour,
that doesn't prompt
itself to continue
with a genesis of slap-stick!
you know what
fetish-porn is to me?
tina turner...
mingling with
sydney watson....
that's **** to me...
either that...
or... jerking off to
a bronzino...
or some 20th century
apocalyptic nostalgia
of...
what would never
become
the tinder,
the fb,
and...
what i best serve
for the blank
stated waiting
game...
but i'm not even
english!!!!!!
when you're eased
out of a delusion,
finding yourself,
recluse,
with a relief,
bound to the ability,
to extract
an authentic tear.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
From' Twopence to Cross the Mersey' we became friends
Finding in each other's soul a companion
And so we trudged, together, pushing the unwieldy pram
Along the streets of Liverpool where the river swam.
Structure, meaning, characterisation, the book had its plan
But we loved dear Helen, little waif from another span.
The waters had their beauty that we could see,
Finding yet another moment to share a read.
Love Mum ***
Thank you dear Vics for all the good times we had.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC