Altrincham Community Media (ACM) exists to promote the arts across the local area and beyond - art in all forms. We are very lucky to have been contacted by a number of people who are gifted poets and who have granted us permission to share their work with you on this page. If you like any of the poems published in this section, please contact the poet and let them know. If you would like to share any of your work with us to publish here please contact us - all rights will remain yours as the author.
Locked Down by P. A. Davies 2021
Once upon a dreadful time
when we were getting by just fine,
there came along a deadly strain.
Coronavirus was its name.
The era of a new unknown,
with people urged to stay at home.
Yet rules were vague on what to do,
and so the death toll quickly grew.
Lockdown One was hit and miss:
“You can’t do that, you can do this.”
“Visit friends but not your kin.”
“Stay indoors, if that’s your thing.”
Some believed they were immune.
Protest marches made the news.
“We have our rights. We won’t comply”.
Surprise surprise, a death toll high.
What made these people walk the streets?
Was it the lack of clarity?
Or did they dread the sacrifice,
of living claustrophobic lives?
Now, something has occurred to me,
as we come out of lockdown three.
That those who followed all advice -
and stayed indoors to save a life -
seem stricken by a new found fear,
of going out to find some cheer.
Some have told me what they feel,
and how it all seems so surreal,
that they are now allowed to roam,
outside the sanctuary of their homes.
Wary, nervous, sweating palms,
a worry that they’ll come to harm.
It’s like their minds have built a wall,
to harbour agoraphobic pall.
Let’s not forget or put aside,
the consequences of these times.
It’s more than death the virus dealt.
It’s jeopardised our mental health
It might take time for some to train, the muscle memory of their brains,
and try to realign their thoughts,
from all the angst that lockdown brought.
So if you feel you cannot cope,
have lost belief in words of hope,
just know that you are not alone,
and better days are heading home.
For freedom’s knocking on our door,
and soon we’ll fear this strain no more.
We’ll build a life of better times,
a world that’s safe for all mankind.
But when this wave is far behind,
and once again, we’re doing fine,
we will recall with ne’er a smile,
how we were locked down for a while.
Stay safe.
P. A. Davies 2021
#covid #lockdown #pandemic #mentalhealth #socialise #agoraphobia #lockeddown #poem #padavies #ukauthor
Once upon a dreadful time
when we were getting by just fine,
there came along a deadly strain.
Coronavirus was its name.
The era of a new unknown,
with people urged to stay at home.
Yet rules were vague on what to do,
and so the death toll quickly grew.
Lockdown One was hit and miss:
“You can’t do that, you can do this.”
“Visit friends but not your kin.”
“Stay indoors, if that’s your thing.”
Some believed they were immune.
Protest marches made the news.
“We have our rights. We won’t comply”.
Surprise surprise, a death toll high.
What made these people walk the streets?
Was it the lack of clarity?
Or did they dread the sacrifice,
of living claustrophobic lives?
Now, something has occurred to me,
as we come out of lockdown three.
That those who followed all advice -
and stayed indoors to save a life -
seem stricken by a new found fear,
of going out to find some cheer.
Some have told me what they feel,
and how it all seems so surreal,
that they are now allowed to roam,
outside the sanctuary of their homes.
Wary, nervous, sweating palms,
a worry that they’ll come to harm.
It’s like their minds have built a wall,
to harbour agoraphobic pall.
Let’s not forget or put aside,
the consequences of these times.
It’s more than death the virus dealt.
It’s jeopardised our mental health
It might take time for some to train, the muscle memory of their brains,
and try to realign their thoughts,
from all the angst that lockdown brought.
So if you feel you cannot cope,
have lost belief in words of hope,
just know that you are not alone,
and better days are heading home.
For freedom’s knocking on our door,
and soon we’ll fear this strain no more.
We’ll build a life of better times,
a world that’s safe for all mankind.
But when this wave is far behind,
and once again, we’re doing fine,
we will recall with ne’er a smile,
how we were locked down for a while.
Stay safe.
P. A. Davies 2021
#covid #lockdown #pandemic #mentalhealth #socialise #agoraphobia #lockeddown #poem #padavies #ukauthor
‘EMERALD MEMORIES’ by the Urban Poet
Torrential rain teeming upon dank streets
The stench of stale urine flung from flee infested tenement dwellings, makes people retch
as they venture past
This is daily life in an era of poverty and famine
Every child seen playing on the cobbles
have desolate frowns, instead of smiles
on unwashed faces. Teeth black as tar
Toys here being bundles of rags to kick around
or bones stripped by ravenous dogs to use as drumsticks on rusty old battered biscuit tins
Country women dragging in cold water from outside, to heat basins of steaming hot water
They lift heavy kettles on and off a smoky open fire, to facilitate washing-day, via crude washtubs
and scrubbing boards
The Emerald Isle contrasting its stunning green countryside, with many poor souls living in squalid conditions in those days.
Cheering music and song though lifting spirits, confounding problems.
People growing closer and holding on to the better memories of a land rich in history.
Rick Varden 2020
Torrential rain teeming upon dank streets
The stench of stale urine flung from flee infested tenement dwellings, makes people retch
as they venture past
This is daily life in an era of poverty and famine
Every child seen playing on the cobbles
have desolate frowns, instead of smiles
on unwashed faces. Teeth black as tar
Toys here being bundles of rags to kick around
or bones stripped by ravenous dogs to use as drumsticks on rusty old battered biscuit tins
Country women dragging in cold water from outside, to heat basins of steaming hot water
They lift heavy kettles on and off a smoky open fire, to facilitate washing-day, via crude washtubs
and scrubbing boards
The Emerald Isle contrasting its stunning green countryside, with many poor souls living in squalid conditions in those days.
Cheering music and song though lifting spirits, confounding problems.
People growing closer and holding on to the better memories of a land rich in history.
Rick Varden 2020
A poem written in 2019 in support of mental health awareness week., entitled:.....
Hidden by P. A . Davies 2019
The darkest place, a cold embrace,
erase the smile from off my face.
Another day is drawn away,
the nights close in to isolate.
Calm I felt begins to melt,
beneath the shroud of misery’s pelt.
Losing track with no way back,
consumed by all this crushing black.
I breathe through silt of pain and guilt,
my thoughts of joy begin to wilt.
Grasp at straws, no open doors,
I’ll leave this world without a pause.
So lay me down beneath the ground,
where light is lost and silence found.
To rest in peace that piece of me
that cannot find the rest it seeks.
Falling, calling silent pleas,
no one sees me on my knees.
Mask the pain, for what is gained
by sharing what they think is feigned?
I can’t reveal the ill I feel,
yet you assume it isn’t real.
As you can’t see what lies within,
no fractured bones nor loss of limb.
No wounded flesh no cuts to see,
to satisfy your disbelief,
that something more than visual ails,
could take the wind from out my sails.
I will not brake until I break
the chains my mind seems keen to make.
Holding fast the real me,
inside this strange reality.
But I will fight to find the light
beyond my dark and stormy plight.
And from the ashes I will rise,
free to live ... to love ... to fly.
P. A. Davies 2019
#mentalhealthweek #depression #invisiblepain #mentalhealth #hidden #poem #padavies #itsokaynottobeokay #reachout
Manchester man by P. A . Davies 2019
Manchester is what I am,
city born and bred.
My accent might sound lazy,
but I’m not off me ‘ed.
I may not wear the latest clothes,
or sport the London flash,
cos being a Manc’s not all about
a wallet full of cash.
It’s all about a pride of place,
that certain way we walk.
An attitude that tells the world,
that lad is from up North.
We’re not the North - cos that’s for Jocks - our city is North West.
Our music scene is world renowned
Our football teams, the best.
We’d rather drink a pint of ale,
than sip a glass of wine.
We have a laugh and take the piss
and speak our f**king minds.
Oasis, Wilson, Ian Brown.
Joy Division, Thaw.
Danny Boyle and Morrisey,
The Bee Gees and Lloyd-George.
Pankhurst, Rashford, Ian McShane,
Fury, Brian Kidd.
Nobby Stiles and Simply Red
So many on our list.
Our city’s full of cultural firsts,
its history’s sublime.
And though it rains most of the year,
our welcome always shines.
Come one come all is what we say,
we’ll lend a listening ear.
Don’t ever try to change us though,
we do things different here.
I’ll raise my glass to Manchester
and proudly show my thanks.
For no matter where I lay my hat,
I’ll always be a Manc.
Manchester is what I am,
city born and bred.
My accent might sound lazy,
but I’m not off me ‘ed.
I may not wear the latest clothes,
or sport the London flash,
cos being a Manc’s not all about
a wallet full of cash.
It’s all about a pride of place,
that certain way we walk.
An attitude that tells the world,
that lad is from up North.
We’re not the North - cos that’s for Jocks - our city is North West.
Our music scene is world renowned
Our football teams, the best.
We’d rather drink a pint of ale,
than sip a glass of wine.
We have a laugh and take the piss
and speak our f**king minds.
Oasis, Wilson, Ian Brown.
Joy Division, Thaw.
Danny Boyle and Morrisey,
The Bee Gees and Lloyd-George.
Pankhurst, Rashford, Ian McShane,
Fury, Brian Kidd.
Nobby Stiles and Simply Red
So many on our list.
Our city’s full of cultural firsts,
its history’s sublime.
And though it rains most of the year,
our welcome always shines.
Come one come all is what we say,
we’ll lend a listening ear.
Don’t ever try to change us though,
we do things different here.
I’ll raise my glass to Manchester
and proudly show my thanks.
For no matter where I lay my hat,
I’ll always be a Manc.