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CUMBERLAND MARKET LOCAL FESTIVAL
Saturday July 29th, 2006
Reading at The MAIN STAGE
Cumberland Market 1 p.m.
London, England
WEST EUSTON PURPLE POETS
After The War
By Patsy Futatsugi
22.07.2006
My mother worked in a sweet shop
And every Friday she brought me
My special treat. Fuller's Chocolates
Round with bits of purple and red
Square nougat, sugared almonds
Walnuts covered in Dark and Milk
Chocolate. They were just there .
Every Friday when she was paid.
One Friday my mother forgot
I remember screaming
Kicking and crying
"Where's my bloody chocolates"
and being put to bed without supper.
The next Friday she came home
With more glossy, shiny,
Gooey chocolates.
Glossy, shiny, creamy,
Milky, syrupy-sweet
Smearing on the hands and face
Of a five year old
Melting in my mouth.
THE CAPTAIN
By Serajul Islam Molla
20.07.2006
I remember my school days
Days of war-torn Bays in the countryside
We heard the Military Parade
-- Left, Right, Left -
We felt every step
Pounding in the heart.
Who goes there, shouted the Guard
I said Captain of Local School, Sir
Captain, ye, there is only one Captain here
We can't have two captains.
But I am the Captain of the School.
Here comes the real Captain and
Asked my name - Islam is my name I said
Islam that's the Religion not a name
I can ask the Head Teacher
To come and give evidence …
He does not need evidence any more
Come in and have tea and cakes with me
The other children flew away
To school to report the incident
Came along the head and other teachers
From that day we were friends
To the Army Barrack
MY JOURNEY TO PAKISTAN
by Bithi Das
20.07.2006
Pakistan
Do you know the meaning of it?
The land of Purity.
It was one of my dreams
To come to see the land
Where Alexander's tired soldiers broke
Their journey to settle in the
Beautiful valley called Kalash.
There is a place called Khaplu
Where Chinzis Khan's descendants
Still live in their mongolian look.
It is history and I wanted
To see it.
In the Group there was Ken,
Simon, Shara, Susan, John, Derek,
Ray and Stewart.
We had one desire in common,
To see Pakistan.
We travelled thousands and thousands
Of miles crossing rivers, mountains
Valleys, and of course, came to know people.
Came to the view point where Himalaya
Karakram and Hindukush met.
The snow-caped peaks stood in
Front of me in their majestic way.
I felt, if there is heaven, it
Is here and the presence of God
I felt I am no one in front of
These gigantic mountains.
Yes, it is the land of Purity where
You will find from children to old waiting
To greet you with their joyful voice.
No crime, no robbery, poor but
Honest people every where.
At the end, it just came in my mind
These words - VINI VIDI VICI
We came, we saw and we conquered
The heart of the people.
TIME
by Carol Moon
Winter 1989
.GARDENS
by Carol Moon
4 November 2005
she hasn't left any food
out again not on the blue and white place
drat that cat he's dirty again and looks so he's probably ripped one
of me apart like he did last week but there she is good it's bread
and nuts she looks cold and old and lonely though queer because
the house is big but it's not as comfortable as my house so maybe
I should do a warble through the window pane for her
Memories of Childhood
by Kathy Randle
27.07.2006
I remember the smells, the yells,
And the street calls
Of the cat's meat man
And the winkle-and-cockle woman.
These were regular noises
In our cul-de-sac
Of tenement houses
In Chalk Farm.
Three families shared our house
"Auntie" Dora and her cats on the ground.
Mum and I in one room
On the second.
And the Ciconies on the top.
We all got on OK,
But the 6 kids plus Mum and Dad
Were always shouting in Italian.
Summer was great in our street
Only the odd horse-and-cart came by;
And the barrel organ and the monkey.
The whole street was ours for fun and games.
Rolling old tyres up and down;
Hop-scotch, whip and top, marbles,
Flicking cigarette cards and
Snakes and ladders on the pavement,
You could move from house to house
Enjoying the games, nearly as good
As Hampstead Heath Fair!
But no money needed.
When I pass it on the bus
All that is left are the memories.
Our street bombed,
High-rise flats there now
No more street games.
Anywhere.
My First Visit
to My Parish Church
in Ogle Street
by Eppie Caredda
20.07.2006
Here in this parish church
There came comforting thought
Someone is here whose love
My
spirit sought.
Here in this parish church,
Love-filled I did rejoice;
And listen
To
his tender voice
Here in this parish church
He said when will you start -
When will you give me -
All
your heart?
WATT DID YOU SAY
by Jean Watt
04.05.2006
What's your name?
Yes that's it! You said it.
Pardon what's your name?
They think I haven't heard.
Jean Watt I spell it out.
Oh yes I see: ha! ha!
I've been called Pot Watt!
Watt Pot. Wot no what!
--- And Watty
Which isn't quite so bad.
KATHY READS:
"Our local - Ayres the Cake Shop in Penge "
by Bee (Belinda Harries)
To read this poem please go to
Bee's Rushey Green Poets Website
COMMUNITY:
(For the Third Age Project
and West Euston Time Bank)
by Babushka
06.07.2006
PATSY READS:
The talented people of Munster Square
Are gentle and generous
And really do care
About each other
EPPIE READS:
Come just as you are,
for you'll be accepted
The welcome's sincere,
The smiles unaffected.
BITHI READS:.
It's never too late to learn a new skill
Have fun with whatever appeals to you.
Maybe crafts or belly-dancing would fit the bill!
Try something you thought you never could do!
ISLAM READS:
Which culture is friendship?
What colour is laughter?
We're one family
And we learn from each other.
Time Bank Poets For This Reading:
Patsy Futatsugi
Serajul Islam Molla
Bithi Das
Carol Moon
Kathy Randle
Eppie Caredda
[Jean Watt]
[Babushka]
Poetry Editor:
Kim Morrissey |
