About Richard

Comic book lover, poet, Captain Britain fan and all round good egg. Writer of the Beer Froth book of poetry and chairman of the Walsall Poetry Society

Postcode Lottery


We don’t have much choice on where we’re bought up,
We’re forged by bricks, mortar, schools and pubs.
It’s a real postcode lottery,
And it was WS1 that raised and nurtured me.
WS1, just two letters and a number,
What it stood for I often wondered.
I found out it was supposed to be for Walsall South,
Or what a smeghole, the jury’s still out.

WS1 it’s where I learned to ride a bike,
Where I learned to fight kids I didn’t like.
Where I learned how to wag from school,
Where I learned how to play the fool.
It’s where I first fell in love… with Doctor Who
It’s where I first drank cider and also spewed
It’s where I first broke my arm , my nose and my toe
It’s where I first realised I hated Black Forest Gateaux.

Now I must quickly interrupt this poem to point out that although it seems trivial to hate Black Forest Gateaux it was the Seventies there was a lot of it about. Vienetta my saviour was many years away.

Then we moved away to WS5,
The suburbs, where folk seem more dead than alive.
It was a place to escape too if you could afford the cost,
It was a place where I felt completely lost.
The streets were litter free, birds sang,
To me it was like living in a foreign land.
A land of sunshine and blue skies,
A land which was really a graveyard where pensioners came to die.

So eventually I left there and moved back to WS1
Back to where it had all begun.
I gradually lost my hair so I grew a beard,
I had a daughter , every day she tells me I’m weird.
I flick the V’s when I walk past my old school
I started writing poetry – so I still play the fool.
I returned as they say to the scene of the crime
And I’ll try not to make the same mistakes this time.

Though I make no promises.

 

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Creative Waste is on the way


I’m very pleased to announce I’m launching my new book of poetry “Creative Waste” on Febuary 24th at Southcart Books in Walsall. I’m even more excited to announce that my fellow poetry chums Matt Humphries and Paul Morris will also be launching their new books alongside me making the event a triple spectacular. More details and interviews with Paul and Matt to come nearer to the time.

Seasons


There’s a hush in the wood,
As nature settles down.
Bracing against wind and rain
While winter comes around.

Then green fades to brown,
That succumbs to white.
Frost decorates the trees,
As winter’s jaws bite.

The Hardest Thing I had to do in 2017


The hardest thing I did this year,
was to stand up at your memorial service
and read one of your poems about nature.
I mean I’m a city boy, made of streets and brick,
reading a poem about the wisdom of trees.

Trees, my only concern with them
is when they drop their leaves
on my lawn.

But now I read your poem,
a poem whose words grew and blossomed
from the earth that nourished them.
Words to me that feel like
pebbles in my mouth.

Afterwards when I get home,
I take the paper with your words and
bury them under the tree,
at the bottom of my garden.

I thought you might appreciate it.

Last Christmas for Frankenstein


Last Christmas I gave you my heart.
Then the very next day….
A mob of angry villagers
under the misapprehension I was some sort of grave robber
appeared at my castle
armed with pitchforks and torches.
They then proceeded to burn down my ancestral home
destroy my science project
and threaten me with legal action.

So this year to save me from tears
i think I’ll just give you… Next vouchers.

 

Urban Spirit


I’m the fresh milk in your latte,
The crisp salty bacon in your roll.
The clean empty seat on the train,
The freshly tarmacked pothole.

I’m the work spreadsheet that won’t balance,
The disembodied electronic voice in the lift.
The email that invites you to an all day meeting,
The feeling you’re not alone on the night shift.

I’m the missed call on your mobile phone,
The last five percent on your battery.
The text message from someone you don’t know,
The unknown person photobombing your selfie.

I’m the treacherous black ice on the pavement,
The hard rain that drives and stings.
The wind that smashes grit into your eyes,
The unexpected crack of thunder and lightning.

I’m the decaying pigeon corpse on the footpath,
The cracked paving slab that twists your feet.
The steaming vomit at the bus stop,
The brick wall that blocks the end of the street.

Focus


Focus,
I focus,
I focus on….

The dough not the nut,
The beer not the gut,
The joy not the division,
The tunnel not the vision,
The Doctor not the who,
The crazy not the glue,
The under not the exposure,
The game not the over,
The world not the war,
The eye not the sore,
The banana not the split,
The bull not the shit.

Mistletoe


Festive tradition says that it’s bad luck
to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe.

I mean what harm can it bring to
lock lips under bright green foliage
and berries as rich and white
as the soft touch of snow.

Could you resist a seasonal dare
and the accompanying giggles that
mistletoe prompts?

But don’t forget in your excitement that
mistletoe and its plump white berries also
bring extra Christmas gifts.

They love to give you blurred vision,
soaring blood pressure but best of all
they will kill you.

Mind you they do say a kiss will do
exactly the same thing.

Write


When your pen feels like a splinter in your hand,
When your malicious inner demons won’t be quiet.
When your body feels like a carcass left out for the dogs,
When your convinced you’ll soon be caught out as a liar.

There is no better time to write.

Write whatever your demons are slyly whispering,
Write no matter how badly it hurts about how you feel.
Write to exorcise all your fears and insecurities,
Write it all down and create poetry for you that’s real.

There’s still time to submit a poem for the Diverse Verse 3 poetry collection


My last successful poetry anthology, Diverse Verse 2.

 

UPDATE – THE SUBMISSION WINDOW IS NOW CLOSED

Diverse Verse 3 the poetry book from Walsall with an international reach is ready to accept submissions.

Here’s how you can get involved and see your poem in print

All you need to do to be involved is to email me a poem to the email address below and it will be considered for the book based on the following rules. Please note entry is free.

  1. All poems must be the authors own work, please don’t submit something that isn’t yours.
  2. Poems are welcome from anyone, anywhere in the world.
  3. Please submit no more than one poem.
  4. A submitted poem must be in arial font in a format free word document. If you are unable to do such then just paste your poem into the body of your email.
  5. Poems on any subject and theme are welcome, however sexually explicit poetry and poems with extreme bad language will not be considered.
  6. Poems should be no longer than 400 words approx.
  7. Previously published poems can be submitted as long as the writer holds the copyright.
  8. When submitting poems please include your full name for inclusion in the book’s contents, an alias is acceptable.
  9. Email your poems to Diverseverse@aol.co.uk
  10. The book will be published via Lulu the online publishers.
  11. Closing date for submissions is 31st December 2017.
  12. Anyone who is in the book will be notified after submissions close.
  13. Poems that do not conform to the guidelines will be rejected automatically.
  14. The copyright of any poem selected remains with the author.

I hope to have the book out in 2018 by the spring at the latest, money raised from sales of the collection will go to Cancer research UK.

Diverse Verse 1 in the press

The launch of Diverse Verse 2.

Buy a copy of Diverse Verse 1 by clicking here

Buy a copy of Diverse Verse 2 by clicking here.