sometimes the satnav doesn’t seem to work
the car ahead indicates right and turns left
each supermarket trolley has a wonkey wheel
mobile phones go out of signal
and the rain stair-rods in escalators
everywhich way except up
bar staff mishear or you misorder
turning another turns too
drinks collide, profuse apologies
and curses under breath
soggy burgers fall apart
too hurried to wait
umpires gloom at [...]
Deus Ex Machina
“All-rounder Flintoff uses Nasa technology to aid recovery while asleep”
…..whirr, whirr, crutch, clutch, whirr, grunch, clunch, wunch, wunderkind, swoosh, swoosh, slosh, gosh, glug-glug-glug-glug-whirr-clung-cling-clong-helmet-clang, bing, bong, bing, yorker, yorker, rip-snorter, tapocatapocata-tapocatapocata, whirr, whirr, whoosh- whash, jigger-jagger-jigger-jagger ramming speed, Mr Zulu, the knee can take it, Cap’n, warp-factor ninety-five miles per hour, outer, outer,outer, inner’s [...]
On www.ashespoetry.net you’ll see an photo of the Adelaide Scoreboard, adapted to take tweets from http://twitter.com/ashespoetry to both indicate how the test’s going and also poetic ideas, notes towards drafting a poem for the day. All done in real time, a bit like leaning over the poet’s shoulder while they’re at their craft.
The idea was James [...]
3rd Test Australia v England Sydney Cricket Ground 7,8,10,11 January 1966 (5-day match)
G Boycott b Philpott 84
R W Barber b Hawke 185
Fall of wickets 1:234 (Boycott) …. England won by an innings and 93 runs
Watching Bob
‘Crikey, were fantastic,
they went everywhere,
smashed all around ground.
I said you can’t play like that,
this is a test match, of course [...]
The Gun-shear’s crook, gone in the shank.
Jigg’d his achilles; Achilles is knack’d.
You other blokes, better step-up a rank,
The Gun-shear’s crook, fleece their attack.
Swine flu fever jumps cross paddocks,
Through town and country things seem black.
But your NHS’ll shepherd the stock,
Less known heroes shall stall its attack.
This is written in the style of Bush Ballads, composed by 19th century [...]
till the game’s bones break. All brave teams eat
at the same table. Their contest sated,
there will be more, if not more to meet
before time’s great door bequeaths the departed.
Albion Underground regrets to announce significant delays to the arrival of the next wicket on the Victory Line.
This is due to engineering works not following on and proceeding as expected, although we are doing as much as we can to rectify the situation by deployment of a new ball.
However Albion Underground would like to make [...]
ethereal, a slight aromatic
adrift in time, fainter than dew
left after blades flens sward
before its possibility
earlier days’ traces linger;
stale ales, linament,
sweat and certified under-arm deodorant
fails to mask an exotic musk,
rare even to memories, dreams
beyond experience
sniffed with leather
when it edges their bats
or pummelled by ours;
with luck to taste on lips
as they lick fingers
before each dries with anxiety
you’ll [...]
Brother Ben,
Life brings its own frustrations.
Eyes beseech the heavens
Leaves all in place as before.
Thy task is to dismiss by thine own labours
Without pleas to those with especial powers
To do thy humble work towards dismissal.
Here endeth the elders’ epistle:
Success shall come,
You leave no margin for error,
They shall succumb,
Thy will be done. ‘Tis enough,
Virtue is its own reward [...]
Play starts too soon,
too soon play starts.
Check pads, bat, box ‘n’ gloves
are where you last left them,
stretch legs, arms, tendons
and tie up laces again.
Re-adjust eyes to the light,
roll-up sleeves not too tight,
hitch up your whites
but try to forget
how play ended last night
for today’s the deepest of breaths
that flutter by -
- nervily.
after original ‘If I were [...]
