Thursday, December 26, 2019

Old Churches In MidWinter


Light Holes.
Our galaxies of being swirl
and swing around them
like moths,sucked in
when night is darkest.

Faith is made here or renewed.
Left on deposit as we wind home   
it accumulates,extending gravity
until an unexpected shining
calls us in.


Tony Noon

Friday, December 20, 2019

MY SUMMER OF FOOTBALL





Left Back … in the dressing room mostly. Sad to say I never mastered the beautiful game , but lessons were learned. First things first. I know what a football is. No , not the often multi coloured sphere you see skidding across your 4K screen . I mean a proper football.

Stitched together pieces of brown leather , surrounding an inflated rubber bladder and tied with a lace…

We called the ball a Casey and it was a rite of passage to be given one for Christmas along with the dubbin you had to rub into it to make it waterproof.

The boy with the Casey could be king for a while...even if he was generally a swot.

That’s how I came to be playing on that fateful day. It was late summer and school was calling , but I had my Casey and it was sunny ,and we had the whole recreation ground to kick around on. It wasn’t long before I was persuaded to join in with a few other lads , just running and passing. Pretty soon we had enough boys and shirts to create a makeshift football pitch and two small teams. Somehow , I ended up in goal , so it was hard to appreciate the dribbling skills of the other boys. Still it was all very energetic , and things were going rather well until I heard someone shout “ My Ball !” …

I launched myself out of the ad hoc goal mouth and across the pitch. Time stood still as I lunged for the Casey. “ Its MY ball “ I shouted to all and sundry and walked off the pitch.

The playful kicks and punches I received in return taught me a lot about fair weather friends,
but I like to think the other boys learnt something useful  about ball control too. 


Tony Noon


Monday, December 16, 2019

FAR AWAY HOPES



Far Away Hopes

It’s midnight in the town square 
on a cold December night
and the church looks down again
upon a tree arrayed in light.

A host of ancient customs
have converged to make this show.
Good wishes and intentions dance
within it’s kindly glow.

But it’s all so very far away
from that desert stable birth. 
It’s hard for us to understand
what those hopes and fears were worth.

Still there’s magic in this winter air
alive with lights and trees
and the message in their meeting
is of life and love and peace.

Tony Noon

Monday, September 16, 2019

Some Are Still Free

                                       
                                          Picture by Eugenio Mazzone


At the all night poetry store
we have airs but no graces.
It is words that count here
and there are lots.

At the all night poetry store
there are no pigeon holes.
Just stacks and racks
of pamphlets. Other
small press offerings

in the corner recover
lost mojos or lost plots.
Dreams are in the bargain bin
at our all night poetry store.

Some are still free.

Tony Noon

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

RAINBOWS WERE DANCING ON BOLD STREET




Rainbows were dancing on Bold Street,
bumping rain outside shop door discos.
At the mexican bar, a wet bandido
coaxed damp smoke from a thin cig.

They measured rope here in the old days.
Top to bottom was always just enough.
Minutes away from the cavern quarter
old voices were anoraked or undercover.

I looked at all the lonely people.
Where did they all come from.


Tony Noon

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

CURTAIN CALL

                                                Picture by Felipe Salgado on Unsplash


No simple tribute, this.

The final curtain, for sure,
but falling unexpectedly 
with the songs mixed up,
we gasped . Some cried.
Someone laughed
as they cranked open
again . A glorious encore.   
Suddenly the wrong song
was very right, and we all sang.

Sweet Caroline.  



Tony Noon

Sunday, June 9, 2019

ON THE BEACH





Skegness has always been special to us. We love the whole of the east coast from Cleethorpes to Great Yarmouth , but I think we would both agree that Skeggy has some of our most enduring memories.

For my wife , Loraine , it meant long summers with her grandma , helping her in her long standing job at Butlins. It also meant the fun and games of the beach missions.
She remembers  learning to swim in the old outdoor pool at The Embassy Centre , and spending old pennies on the slot machines at the end of the day. Often there would be odd coins dropped or left behind in the machine trays. Loraine would collect these until she had enough to buy Grandma a bar of Bourneville chocolate. Her favourite.

My own early memories are of annual caravan holidays at Ingoldmells in the early seventies.
Back then it was already “caravan city” , but Fantasy Island didn’t yet exist , and Sea Lane to the point was largely undeveloped. You could still have a quiet stroll along the sea wall and feel the force of the waves crashing in.

There used to be a cinema opposite Fantasy Island. It’s a supermarket now , but I remember seeing a film there about “ Alfred The Great” . It was a fairly moody piece with grey saxon skies which seemed to be still recognisable in the quiet dunes.

All different now , of course. White Knuckle rides, and rock music at the beach bar.
I’m not complaining though. Skegness was always a draw for the lights and the razzamatazz. As I got older , I loved the cabaret bars , and saw many famous names at the end of the pier … the long one before it was destroyed by a storm. Tommy Cooper , Ray Alan with Lord Charles , Mike & Bernie Winters...all supported by a full variety show of singers , dancers etc… and all the while you could hear the waves crashing against the creaking structure… I loved it.

Loraine and I  had our first holiday together in Ingoldmells , in a rented caravan. It only had gas lights and cooking , so no telly … just a crackly little radio which reminded me of those early holidays. To make it worse , we had booked a week before the Butlins camp opened for the season , which in those days meant Skeggy was still tucked up for winter…

There was very little open in Ingoldmells itself , which was still a quiet village, separate from all the noise .It had one cafe called The Copper Kettle , which was later reborn as an amusement arcade.
Sadly , on our most recent visit , this appears to have gone for good , along with the outdoor market. Bus services were infrequent so we had to walk everywhere , particularly along the sea wall into Skegness itself.

A few years later we returned to Skegness for our honeymoon . Money was a little tight so we swapped accommodation with Grandma. She had a week at our home in South Yorkshire , catching up with family and friends , and we had the run of her flat , which was
just off the sea front.

It was May again. The weather was fine , but we were just ahead of the season, again...
We were both into keep fit at the time and decided one morning to put on our track suits and run along the front to the clock tower ,then down the road to the beach , where we knew for sure that there was a baked potato stall and a waffle kiosk.

When we got there, of course , there was no sign of life , just evaporating morning mist and a couple of quizzical seagulls ...but we loved it and have been coming back regularly ever since.


This article was first published in SHORELINE magazine in June 2019.
It introduces the ON THE BEACH series of cartoons. The magazine is available free of charge from various outlets in Skegness and surrounding area.






Saturday, May 25, 2019

SITCOM WIVES



SITCOM WIVES


The sitcom wives
are drinking coffee.

Those goofy guys.

They have heart
but every week
they walk a plank
to the ad break.

The sitcom wives
are drinking coffee.

They will be here
with towels when
the plank snaps.


Tony Noon

Friday, May 10, 2019

SIMON ARMITAGE



Congratulations this morning to Simon Armitage , the new UK Poet Laureate.

A Yorkshire lad , for sure , shaped by the rugged Pennine scenery of his home town, Marsden , and the industrial legacy of nearby Huddersfield. He's a fine poet , and a worthy choice.

Let's also celebrate the concept of reward for long and hard work.

In a world driven by soundbites and instant gratification , we would like to believe that raw talent is enough to succeed , but the plain fact is that it needs to be harnessed and focused on long term goals .

I don't know if young Simon Armitage had any ambition to become Poet Laureate , but over the last thirty years , he has chosen to follow paths, and taken opportunities which gave him entry to the selection pool.

We can all wish on stars...but to get there we need to learn about space and train as an astronauts.





Saturday, April 6, 2019

QUIZ NITE



                                          image by Peter Pruzina from Pixabay



They return here often.
As if it is always here;
as if it hadn't travelled miles
in the space in between;
as if they hadn't travelled miles
in the space in between.

And it is the same.
Always seems the same,
not some sad facsimile.

They age, of course,
but relationships remain distinct.
Old and new cross rooms
like politicians wavering,
but the prize is still the same.

Always different.


Tony Noon