Poetry

Mine, and occasionally others'.

#TubeStrike

I proper hate those Tube strikers
  they've well messed up my day
I'm late for tea at City Hall
  I walked most of the way
And then found out the CEO
  had nicked my parking bay

On every other day I don't
  give them a second thought
They work to run the railway safely?
  Nothing of the sort!
I know they're lazy bastards 'cos
  I saw the news report

There's a Crack in Everything: Leonard Cohen Tribute Concert

28/01/2017 - 19:30

An evening of music and poetry, by some of the greatest artists in East London 

Venue: The Wanstead Tap, Arch 352, Winchelsea Road, Forest Gate, London E7 0AQ

The Musical line up includes:
Daniel vs the World
Lindsay West
Reuben Bard-Rosenberg 
Huey
Rob DesRoches

Poetry Readings by:
Janine Booth
Jenny Shepherd
Melina Merlin & Paul Romane
Anjie Mailey

Ted Hughes Poetry Festival

24/06/2017 - 18:30

Janine joins poets Linton Kwesi Johnson, Tim Wells and Peg Powler, contributing poetic entertainment to this year's instalment of the annual Ted Fest, organised by the Ted Hughes Project.

Mexborough Business Centre
College Road
Mexborough
S64 9JP

Battle Scars

Penicillin
is killing
the infection.
Inspection
revealed
it's healed.
I brandish
the bandage
removed
from the wound.
My breast
undressed.

Clue

1 down
Disordered file's easy,
Begs us around about
Those little things that make us happy
(4'1, 6, 9)

Plain and quick
Or painful and cryptic
Make my mind tick
Flicking pen, click

1 down
Fifty-one iron's
Limp as super eels
Troubled by those small sources of cheer
(4'1, 6, 9)

Brain ache
Coffee break
Come back later
Procrastinator

Winter of Love

Rather to my surprise, this little poem of mine won a place as a 'featured entry' on Hour of Writes for the theme Winter of Love, and will be published in its magazine, Ephemera:

'Tis the season for reckless folly
To deck Mr Hall from Accounts
For showing you how his sausage rolls

'Tis the season for making out
You've a large and loving family
With perhaps the odd eccentric

Liberation

An acrostic poem ie. one in which the first letters of each line spell out the key word:

Looks like this, does it, liberation?
Isolated from supplies, routes closed, blown from the skies
Barrel bombs bowled along alleys
Enclaved civilians tweet from their graves, farewells from beneath
Rubble, the stones where their homes used to be
Aleppo cries, crumbles, defeated, they see
Tyranny returning, triumphant, burning
Inhabitants gathered, culled, or running for their lives
Out of the city, fleeing as they wouldn't if they had actually been freed
No, this is not what liberation looks like.

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