The Leopard’s roaring its way into the New Year now with a visit from Jeffrey Wainwright in February and Grevel Lindop due to join us on March 22nd.
Here are some poems read and discussed during Jeffrey Wainwright’s visit. Firstly, Malcolm McMinn with echoes of a somewhat seasonal Lenten/Passiontide theme.
I WASH MY HANDS
I wash my hands of this man’s blood
But guilt remains, I know, for good.
I’ve had him whipped until his gore
Runs deep and red upon my floor:
It’s well for me he’s not the Lord.
I did as much as any could
But they would nail him to the wood.
To maintain peace and keep the law
I wash my hands.
For evermore my name is mud,
My part in this misunderstood;
The mob outside still rage for more,
Their hatred running deep and raw,
And though some day I must face God,
I wash my hands.
Meanwhile, it’s bin day for John Williams.
I press for daycare in the condo, bang the door
and stick a notice to the board with pins.
But it’s my week to clink the letterbox
and call the old hip cats, body builder,
and couples no-one sees to bring their bins.
Puzzled at cinders now we’re smokeless,
I wonder whose fire alarm’s defunct.
Our fires are flameproof, ersatz logs,
surge-free plugs and eco-wired.
We give our milk tops for the refugees
and grow porch plants, devoured by shrubs.
We look like Eden coming back
but for the sachets snipped and uncorked wine.
One tug, my steel pins give, the poster falls
and says we’re temp, not perm.
No daycare in the garden and Adam reappears
who chose tragedy, not playtime for his boys.
For more Poetry from The Potteries join us upstairs at The Leopard Hotel, Burslem at 7.30pm on Tuesday 22nd March. Bring 15 copies of your own work to share and discuss or just come to listen and soak up the atmosphere. You’d have to go a long way to find insight and feedback as good as you’ll get here!