Wednesday, July 17, 2013

old boots


Amid an

otherwise
pedestrian
day a small
iambic
metaphor,
as though
a sentry's
attention
had wandered,
as if a
gardener'd
given up
shallots and
gone down the
pub for a
pint or three,
stood beside
a lamp post
beside an
allotment
a pair of
unoccupied
old worn black
workingmen's
boots.  

Monday, August 27, 2012

On the horizon


On the horizon

church tower and radio mast
spiring to heavens and beyond,
needles that scarcely scratch the sky.



Sunday, June 03, 2012

The view from here


The view from here
















I Fog
Newcastle has gone,
and Gateshead. A fragment of Tyne
locked like an anchor in mud
a few blue-grey roofs some
street lights and steep houses
chain it to me and separate us,
buses form themselves from air,
vanish to nowhere; memory
is myth.


II Lucid
It rained overnight. Black ashphalt
sparkles with pleasure at being
walked upon, wild buses play tag
to their destinations always
leaving because they've arrived.
I can see distant green-brown
bounding hills streaked with houses
and imagine tiny people
imagining us.


III Nocturne
Brighter at night against the dark
the wealth and lunacy of the city
reflected on the surface
of the empty river, still
great crack, laughter, an argument
with my face in Fenwick's window
till, by uneven steps, I miss
the final metro home; home
is fiction.


IV Sight
We are as ants and less than ants
scrawling our sentences like
scent trails over dust
each I a monarch
in its own domain;
quod scripsi, fecit.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Cadenza

Cadenza

hunt
          feast and famine

farm
          ridge and furrow
          the long cycle

books
          labyrinths

internet
          infinite
          centre-less maze

song
          blood, seed, hope, lost

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Between




Crossing the Millennium
Bridge suspended from
twin cities separate inseparable
we pause
               an unreliable
unrecreatable childhood
memory recurs stepping
plank to plank along Ryde pier
neither sea nor land and
watching the turbulent
threatening water beneath
disturbed
                a cormorant
settles on a floating boom
an artificial island in the Tyne
she and I momentarily
fixed for ever above
between  


  © Copyright Chris Downer and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Borders

The boundary's
moved through the years
north south, south north -
people, sheep don't
care: guards, thieves look
much the same by
any compass -
but at night the
lights destroy peace.

When no-one looks
borders vanish.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Thanks to all supporters - more needed


There is another article in the Newcastle Chronicle today about Leonie and Stacey.

Leonie said she was lured into coming to the UK in 2008 with promises of a better life. But when she arrived, the 29-year-old said she was forced into prostitution.

The UK Border Agency and Immigration Tribunals turned down her application to stay in the UK. Now we are campaigning to ask the Home Secretary to use her discretionary powers to allow Leonie to remain.

The response to the campaign has been wonderful:
Campaign organiser Chris Carroll, from the Brunswick Methodist Church in Newcastle city centre, said: “The response has been fantastic.
“We’ve just posted another 100 letters to the Home Secretary to ask her for compassion with more being sent every day.
If you would also like to help letters and petition forms are available here.

Thank you.