These steep hills are part of me
Where I learned to ride a bike
And gazed over the industrial haze
And ice-dammed the steep melting streets
So the toy boat couldn't
Drift out of control downslope.
Now, like snow in June--
Uninvited, unwelcome, unmanageable,
Smothering crocuses and new flowers of spring--
A cold draught from
A half-opened door into this cozy room,
They burst like unwelcome guests
Into my dreams
Into my life of cheese and wine
And curtly demand fish and chips.
My inner party abruptly
Gate-crashed by Gateshead, my
Interrupted by raucous Geordie noise
From familial, understood, known,
Predictable, and long-forgotten
Relatives who turn up of a sudden
At a wedding and old fights reawaken;
Familiar like a cousin
Not always pleasant and warmed.
Steep hills and sudden
Gouged by ice, and water-formed--
This is no civilized landscape gentle
With demesne and orchard
And sun-kissed downland copses;
It is the terrain of warfare,
Of Northumbrian tearing at Scot
Of Hadrian walling off the terrifying Pict,
Where the sea is held by Marsden's cliffed face
And Cullercoats huddles in fear of a storm where
All my hull of well-rounded vowels comes adrift gaping,
And the keel of my flat northern burr is exposed;
And the long years of barnacle scraping
Have left only a superficial gloss of paint there.
The steep hills of Tyneside,
Green but not the hills of home:
Uninvited they come, like guests gate-crashing,
Spoiling the illusion of civilization
Overpainted onto a canvas
Woven in Gateshead from the strings
Of Hood Haggie's ropeworks.
Author's Notes: Recently I have noticed that distant memories of childhood tend to return inexplicably, and unwanted. I hated that dismal town of my childhood, yet I have long realized that the gloss of education and travel of a lifetime does little to disturb my established character, largely formed from that town's environment.
Gateshead=large dismal industrial town in the Tyneside region of northern England.
Geordie=anyone/anything from Tyneside.
Northumbria=an ancient kingdom in that region, frequently at war with Scotland.
Roman emperor Hadrian built a wall across England to keep out the Picts, 117 A.D.
Marsden=a seacoast district near Gateshead with 200 foot cliffs.
Cullercoats=fishing village on the coast near Marsden.
Hood Haggie's=a one-time very important rope industry in Gateshead.
Sydney Peck is a schoolteacher of thirty years' experience, and writes poetry and short stories in his spare time. Also a singer and player of folk music. Favorite things--cats and wildflowers.
I am not much of a poet like you Sydney but here’s a little something that I cooked up in a spur of the moment : A night so dark and serene, accompanied by strong gusts of wind. Peaceful sleep we all would need, an advice we often don’t heed.ReplyDelete