Author Archives: Dennis

About Dennis

I am a poet, occasional writer of haiku and prose, translator from the German

Barnes/Chiswick and Amersham Stanza Bonanza

Barnes & Amersham Oct '15Here I am with my friends from Barnes & Chiswick, plus the Amersham poets, at the Poetry Café in London last night. A good time was had by all.

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

October Reading at Poetry Cafe

Poetry ID member Dennis Tomlinson will be taking part in a reading, one of the Stanza Bonanza series, at the Poetry Cafe, Covent Garden, at 7.30 pm on Wednesday 28 October. Entry is free. He will be representing  his other stanza, Barnes & Chiswick, together with Paul Attwell, Nayna Kumari, Dino Mahoney, Diane Mulholland and Michael Weightman. The other participants will be coming from Amersham/Metroland. Judging by last year’s experience, this evening will be fun.

Leave a comment

Filed under Events

October Stanza Bonanza at Poetry Cafe

AppleMark

Here I am with members of the Barnes & Chiswick and Woking stanzas at the Stanza Bonanza on October 22nd.  I was the first to perform, setting the tone for a great evening. Ha ha!

5 Comments

Filed under Dennis Tomlinson, Uncategorized

Royal Mail

I have just had a poem on the plight of the postal service (‘Royal Mail 2012’) published on the Eyewear blog. This really expresses my disgust at the state of affairs in June last year, but it fits in with other critical poems published there.

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

The Present

Magpies wag their tails
on the rust-brown tiles,
excrement-streaked
with yellow-brown lichen.

Spring has come to swing
his hammer, to drive
crocuses forth
from the leaf-scattered soil.

Look at the workmen
raising their scaffolding,
opening roofs
where the old tiles lay.

This is the building
of a new time:
while daisies peer shyly
towards a pale sun

I up and depart
on the camouflaged back
of a frog who leaps
over gardens.

He follows the scent
of the damp embankment,
the tangled road
to the gold-paved city.

Between the Gothic
spikes of Parliament,
over the Thames we fly,
beating cold air.

Beside the gleaming
science-fiction towers
cranes are pointing
vainly at heaven.

But our business
lies on the living streets –
and a flash of sun
bursts the long whale-cloud,

lighting the yellow
crowns of dandelion.
Now all animal
hearts are burning.

After ‘The Future’ follows ‘The Present’. This one turned into a spring poem as I was writing it.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Dennis Tomlinson, Uncategorized

The Future

Tower after tower
in the damp morning.
Traffic thunders
to the accompaniment
of chattering drills.

The stark cranes
of HYUNDAI
stand erect,
aimed at the heart
of heaven.

Here the Orchard
is a street
of snarling cars
and strolling couples
(nutmeg trees no more).

The yellow ELLISON BUILDING
1924
(a refuge for Indian traders)
decays flake by flake
among skyscrapers.

I look through the window
of a crowded bus:
red lanterns are swinging
over the streets
of the Lion City.

Is such the future
of our world,
towers of commerce
breathing steam
into the humid heat?

This poem derives from impressions of a recent trip to Singapore, which coincided with the Chinese New Year. It may well form the germ of a new sequence.

1 Comment

Filed under Dennis Tomlinson

Santa Claus Exposed

I bring you words of warning
About a sainted man
Whose colourful adorning
Conceals a hidden plan.

Transform the name of SANTA,
Transposed by his elves,
And see old SATAN canter.
The CLAUS speak for themselves.

The robed buffoon’s a bluffer;
His hood hides horns, his boot
A hoof, his breeches cover
A tail and, they repute…

Those ruddy cheeks have basked by
Infernal flames and sparks.
His black goatee is masked by
The beard of Grandpa Marx.

His home lies in the circles
Where bears and reindeer dwell;
Deep under Iceland’s joekulls
Old Nick holds court in hell.

On Christmas Eve the Father
Of Lies yokes up his beasts.
He flogs them to a lather
And flies off to the feasts.

Lucifer’s car is loaded
With sacks of rats and toads
And drawn by serpents goaded
Along the airy roads.

About him, demons beckon
Out of the storm-swept sky.
On earth, late travellers reckon
The Wild Hunt’s hurtling by.

If in a house the Devil
Should guzzling grown-ups glimpse,
Unto their Christmas revel
He’ll send his horny imps.

The ‘saint’ fills children’s stockings
With wriggling toads and rats,
Transmutes them into mockings
Of dolls and cricket bats.

In bulging bags he’s hoarded
The souls of girls and boys,
But they are well rewarded
With electronic toys.

Behold the red fiend reeling –
They sound the midnight bell.
Before its final pealing
He must flee back to hell.

Of course I speak in banter,
A faithful atheist.
Bah! Satanas and Santa –
Thank God they don’t exist!

I wrote this humorous Christmas poem 23 years ago, but it has never had a wide airing. Please pronounce ‘transposed’ as 3 syllables.

4 Comments

Filed under Dennis Tomlinson

Grapefruit

Before lies the sun,
yellow, red-tinged
on the table’s horizon.
I discern dark spots
mottling the star’s surface.
The sun is rocking, moving, about
to set off and light up
a world we don’t yet know.

My ‘fruit workshop’ took place all of five years ago now. How time flies!

2 Comments

Filed under Dennis Tomlinson

Walking in Welei 2

I too was in ‘Welei’ today (though I only had a mobile phone to take pictures).

4 Comments

Filed under Photographs

St Mary’s Church, Wallington

The church where George Orwell got married

1 Comment

Filed under Dennis Tomlinson, Photographs