Riding the 19 back from Headingley, After a day spent at the Test, Seeing Stokes and Root and Bairstow In the field against the Kiwi’s best. England wearing bright white flannels, Opponents sporting soft-creamed hues. Hot sun beating relentless from a Yorkshire sky Rich in shades of perfect blues. It’s been a glorious day for…
Category: My Writing
Culture All (Odes On The Roads #06)
Bradford’s broken blacktop bumps brutal beneath my wheels. But cracks and chasms in each road won’t dampen the good feels. For rising from the pavements, thrusting high into the sky, LED signs proudly shout the news to all who pass them by. That we have been chosen, a choice to help us thrive, ‘cos Yorkshire…
Snake The Cones (Odes On The Roads #05)
Stuck on Sticker Lane Once more, The blacktop dug up still. We wait our turn To snake Through cones, And cross that dirty, Streaked white line. Stuck on Sticker Lane We sit, Beside tidy shiny ranks Of polished chrome, Bright paint, Buffed wheels. The promise of the Carefree open road. Stuck on Sticker Lane, We…
The Fartown Kid (Odes On The Roads #04)
I reach the summit, crest the rise, Raise my hand to my brow And shield my eyes From the glare and the heat Of the burning noon day sun. I look down the valley, at the land below, To what bakes beneath That ol’ fire ball’s glow, As the sun beats fierce From the bluest…
“Colonel Whiskers” (Odes on the Roads #03)
Creeping. Crawling. Blacktop drawling. Get in lane and join the queue, Of a Monday morning, Nose-to-tail, Gridlocked M62. Signs flashing Overhead, warning “40’s All you oughta” Do, but your needle view Shows you’re doing Barely less than quarter. There’s a wagon Inching past you, It’s ladder-laden high. You wonder if each step Carried onboard could…
“The 62” (Odes on the Roads #02)
A poem to my wife – with a little help from Lainey Wilson and Dolly Parton. Inside lane, hitting sixty, On a moonlit 62. Been working nine-to-five, So tired, now I’m Coming home to you. You got me high on something, Feeling fine, My heart is in a whirl. You’re my neon diamond, Sunday best,…
“The Stuntman”. (Odes on the Roads #01)
Rain, cold, unrelenting, Makes the blacktop so slick. Drive safe and get there. Don’t not get there quick. Traffic, slow moving. It’s all red tail lights up front. In your rearview a youngster Driving like a Stunt Man from LA, Weaving in,…
An Ode To The Question Of Why My New Top, Freshly Washed And Pegged On The Line All Day, Has Marks On It.
This is a little ditty I penned the other day after bringing in the washing. I think it would be great accompanied by the ukulele or banjo; imagine a modern-day George Formby vibe. Perhaps a dove crapped down as it winged by? Or could an owl have pissed from way up high? Might a crow…
“37 Words“
Underground In the dark There’s a tunnel With a light At the end Closing fast Foe or friend Beast or pet What’s the knowing Be brave Take a step To that beacon Your dreams Now the past
Little Fridge Light
*i know that today is a Tuesday and you are all hankering after my latest “Rubbish Poem”, but this little poem is demanding to be told and is simply too important to be missed. And, as is the case with all the really good stuff you like, this poem is “based on true events”.* Oh,…
A Quiet Spring
**Shortly after the country went into “Lockdown”, Ilkley Literature Festival put up some writing prompts on their website and the inspiration for Week 2 was “A Quiet Spring”. I took a slightly different tack to some of the others that were sent. Newlywed, devoid of means, They pine, like sex-starved, Love-struck teens, At…
Sunday Poem #02
*Written on my iPhone this morning while still in bed. Intended to fit into one single Tweet, the inspiration for this poem should, hopefully, be clear. Sunday morn Bedside clock shows OhEightThreeFour Frenzied banging at the door You wake and rise to see A man and van from DPD Insisting you come quick For he…
“A Lame Joke”
Two guys and their pet gorilla walked into a bar. *UPDATE April 2021* Well, folks. It did win. My short story won first prize in Writing Magazine’s July competition for their “Twist Story” and was published in their December 2020 issue. Buoyed by its success, I revisited my original story, which came in at a little under 2,000 words,…
Rubbish Poem #15
“The Triptych” She came once more today. Three Hi-Viz escorts by her side. A trio, A threesome, A triptych Of orange-clad young men. Atop The Beast One guides Her, coaxing and soothing. Two on foot. Who walk beside As She gorges And feasts. The duo fill Her Seven fearsome mouths with Mounds of…
Gavin Dimmock. Writer. 