A poem written in support of the campaign to secure pardons for the 300+ British and Irish soldiers who were executed by their own side in the 1914-18 war.  The campaign was subsequently successful in 2006. 

Read more at: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/4798025.stm

http://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/lifestyle/books/part-one-the-truth-behind-the-irish-soldiers-shot-at-dawn-28489320.html

Shot At Dawn

From SEX & LOVE & ROCK&ROLL (Burning Eye, 2013)

http://longfella.co.uk/sexandloveandrockandroll.html

I'm half Irish. Neither Catholic nor Protestant. Unchristened. This is a poem about growing up with an Irish name and a confused identity in the early 1970s when The Troubles filled the news and racist Irish jokes were on tea-time tv. It's also about male, working-class emotional inarticulacy, especially in the days before Trisha.

Englishman, Irishman

Poet Tony Walsh, aka Longfella, reads the foreword/manifesto from his debut poetry collection, SEX & LOVE & ROCK&ROLL, published by Burning Eye in 2013.



Signed copies, with free UK P&P available from: http://longfella.co.uk/sexandloveandrockandroll.html

@LongfellaPoet

A Manifesto: from SEX & LOVE & ROCK&ROLL

A poem in celebration of libraries and the importance of working class and women's voices getting heard.

Now included in my debut full poetry collection,SEX & LOVE & ROCK&ROLL available now from: http://longfella.co.uk/sexandloveandrockandroll.html

Tiny Dreams

As with my recent Soundcloud poem "Timeshare Lightning" this poem is an attempt at the "gregueria" form inspired by a workshop led by Denise Hayes at the NAWE conference, 2012. This poem is further inspired by the master of the form, Ramon Gomez de la Serna and his gregueria  “Las puertas se enfadan con el viento” which translates as "doors get angry with the wind."

In combining these attempts at gregueria into a single piece, it struck me that this could make an excellent writing workshop or warm-up for writers of all levels.  What does the hair think of the comb?  Do fish and chips hate each other? Are locks scared of keys? The exercise could generate a series of one-line gregueria which could perhaps then be combined into solo or group pieces. Perhaps set a theme: animals, plants, household objects, etc. 

I hope that you enjoy the exercise as much as I have, it's certainly stretched me from my normal style of writing.  Thanks, Denise!

Checkout @gregueria1 and @Dennysaze on Twitter and use #gregueria for your examples


THE SUN AND THE SHADOWS 

(After Ramon Gomez de la Serna: “Las puertas se enfadan con el viento” or “Doors get angry with the wind.”)


The sun hates the shadows, how they hide from her seek.
The trees love the snowflakes, better kissers than rain.

The chair hates the cushions. “I can do this myself!”
The frost loves the spiders, for their crystals on silk. 

The knife hates the fork for she steals, tastes the glory.
The mirrors love steam for the rest; light relief. 

The hair hates the hat. “Oh, to play with the wind!”
The lamp-posts love dogs.  Oh, such dullness, alone.

The floor hates the carpet. “Let them clomp! Let them dance!”
The tissues love lipstick; there are worse ways to go.

(c) Tony Walsh | Longfella 2012 | www.longfella.co.uk | @LongfellaPoet


The Sun and the Shadows

A poem about growing up poor in the seventies. 

From my debut full poetry collection, SEX & LOVE & ROCK&ROLL. Signed copies with free p&p available now via: http://longfella.co.uk/sexandloveandrockandroll.html 

Posh Things

I said no prayers at my mother's funeral. I sang no hymns.

My Mum died in the spring of 2008 after ten years of very serious and complex illness. She was 65. On the morning that she died, the long, suburban road to the hospital (Hope Hospital, Salford) revealed itself to be lined with cherry blossom trees; they'd bloomed into life that sunny morning. It was beautiful. It felt symbolic and I vowed to myself there and then to remember my Mum every year when the trees are in blossom. In truth, I think about her every day; just...more so... when the trees are smiling. 

I was reading a lot of science books at the time, learning about how all matter is connected; how atoms are constantly re-re-cycled, including those that our bodies are all made of. We ARE made of stars, everything is. A short list of elements combine in different quantities to make ALL things.  Bury us with a tree shoot and our atoms nourish its roots, we bloom from its branches. Life goes on.

For me the poem is a scientific, atheist piece but, such is the territory that science and religion fight over, it could equally interpreted to be about a deity. My brother and his wife are both church ministers. My sister-in-law, Kate, conducted the funeral (beautifully) and a dozen of their minister friends were in attendance to show their support.

Around this time, my reading and watching my Mum's prolonged suffering had cemented my agnosticism into an atheism which dared to speak its name. I spoke its name as part of my introduction to the assembled mourners.  

I said no prayers at my mother's funeral. I sang no hymns. I read a poem.

.

Now published at: http://longfella.co.uk/sexandloveandrockandroll.html



 

LIFE GOES ON (For Elaine)

Hi  I'm Tony Walsh - Longfella, a Manchester (UK) based poet, writer and artist in education.  In 2011 I was website poet-in-residence for the world renowned Glastonbury Festival from where my work featured on BBC1, BBCRadio2, BBC6Music and in the rock magazine Q. I have been invited to perform everywhere from The British Library to The Palace of Science and Culture in Warsaw, Poland for The British Council.   From the Royal Shakespeare Company 50th anniversary celebrations to festivals, prisons, schools, colleges, universities, conferences and on the steps of St Paul's Cathedral for OccupyLSX. Further info, all links, sales etc via my website at www.longfella.co.uk. Cheers!

Tony Walsh: Longfella

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