The Market

Down the alleys they come
Down the narrow side streets
Down the long highways
All with basket and bag.

Into the crowded square
With its stalls of bright
Canopies; parasols.

Huge pans of yellow rice
Chorizo in red sauce
Chickens roasting on spits.


Smell of the olive stall
Olives in oil stuffed with
Citron sharp and garlic.

Vegetables out on
Long trestles; green of bean
Red tomatoes, melons.

Sausage stalls smelling strong
With strings of white dusty
Sausage, sliced shiny ends.
Man in black smock counts change.

Cheese counter full of flavour
Whiff of Roquefort wafts the
Busy air; throng jostling.

Martin Delemare
7th September 2006

I Told You Not to Go

Feeling a little ill, so you are.
Told you not to go to that sushi bar.

We’ve seen it all before you know.
Spy seeking to hide here and so
They sent a very nasty looking fella
With poisoned tip on his umbrella.

Feeling a little ill, so you are.
Told you not to go to that sushi bar.

Stick to Danish lump fish caviar
With no deadly thallium to mar
Your classic good looks and hair so thick
But now you’re poorly, rotten sick.

Feeling a little ill, so you are.
Told you not to go to that sushi bar.

Martin Delemare
20th November 2006

Gateway to a Blizzard

Wind blows strong through gate
Grips all in icy blast.
Fine snow pours over lip of ridge
Moves endlessly and shifts like
The sands, the frozen sands of
A sunless sky, streaming through
Gaps and holes in the walls
To swirl round, over, under
Cold fingers curling round
My frozen wasteland of a heart.

Martin Delemare
2nd December 2004

Flood Tide over the Mudflats

Water creeps across the mud
Water rises up the pole
Slowly as a wet sloth
It creeps up the creeks
Invades the silent reed beds
Pours down the lugworm holes
Causing bubbles to rise, muddy.

Gently lifts the clinker hulls
Stirs the orange buoys
And seeps into the harbour
Walls, covering barnacles
And limpets on the piles.

Frothy line rolls over
The mudflats filling hollows
Climbing up the shingle banks
As under a blanket
It moves beneath the
Mist and murk of early
Morning, long before the
Sun has risen aloft.

Martin Delemare
5th August 2006.

Two at Albert Docks

Strolls rounded fashion
Careless motion, easy
Stride, easy swing of
Arm. Dressed casual
Style, T-shirt and jeans
Trainers for comfort.

Totters in high heels
Golden ankle chain
Her dainty dress flared
At hips, precise swing
Her dyed white hair short
All effect; all show.

The perfect couple.

Martin Delemare
28th September 2006.

Abandoned Man

You stand beside the road
Staring blankly, straight at nothing.
Mouth hangs slackly open
Crag of face holds bold
Eyes separated by bulbous nose.

Legs bow out at knees
Hidden by baggy trousers
Grey as your desolate soul.
Wispy hair flies out of hat
Sagging over solid head.

Arms hang bent at side
Slip on shoes appear more
As slide off footwear to
Match your slip off life.

Martin Delemare
5th July 2006

Lush

Stick thin and full of sin
Power fade; power gone
Shaky reach for the gin.
Nasty streak lurks there still
No door will let you in.

Sex, charm you thought were fine
Puffy face now scorn worn
Reach shaking for the wine
Crawl from mess you made
No fight to spin a line.

Go now and in Hell rot.
Job in ruins; will all weak
Shake, reach now for the tot.
No help, you didn’t win.
Stick thin and full of gin.

Martin Delemare
20th September 2006

Rein in the Nerves

Two bold steps.
Two moves across.
Steps taken like
That every day.

But just stop
Just look at
The drop below
No normal step
No easy step.

Flake risen up
From the depths
Mud on ledge
Ladder across pit.

Now put aside
Your dark thought
Luxury of fear.
Put that away
Rein in the nerves.

All brain on
The action ahead.
All thought focus
On the move.

Deft steps over
Grab that ladder
Nerves reined in.

Martin Delemare
7th October 2006.

Auschwitz

I was not there
At the end of the line.
I did not hear
The whistle of the train.
I did not see
Your tears of pure fear.
I did not witness
The lines of the walking.
I did not smell
The burning of the bodies.
For I …
I was not there
At the end of the line.

Martin Delemare
28th January 2005

New Orleans

The ripples spread wide
Long before the flood
The world felt the waves
Of music pulsate outwards
Reaching religions and cultures
Far, far and so very wide.

Then high winds raged
Tore and tugged at the land
Rain lashed down from the heavens
The levies burst and in poured
Lakes of turgid water.
Rafts of broken flotsam
Turning to fetid putrefaction.

The water’s departed now
From the ruins and remains.
Where is our love and help
In return for music so fine?

Martin Delemare
18th January 2006

Snow

Snow is in the air
Driven hard by biting wind
Swirls round the winter.

Crow

Crow sits on high branch
Caws out loud to make you hear
Strident winter’s voice.

Where are you?

Oh where are you now?
Where the warm dark nights with you?
Never to be seen again.

The Hollow

Hollow hoot of the night
Empty space between the trees
Hollow hoot draws you near.

Angel of the North

Angel of the North
Stand tall arms stretched out wide
Proud before red clouds.

The Lock

Thump! Thump! Thump!
Engine slowly revs
To crescendo
Then dies to idle speed
Once more.
Thump!
Thump!

Slowly the gate
Pushes against the water
Which swirls
Around to form
Little
Whirlpools.

Bows glide forward
To fill the lock.
Gate shuts.
Great clanking of pawl on cogs,
Turning,
Straining.

Watch that cill!
Bows nuzzle gates
That creak
And boat starts to drop
Down,
Down.

Dark sides encase;
The narrow boat descends.
Walls glisten
And pour forth water, slimy sides
Dribble,
Drip.

More rapid clanking
Crashing paddles close.
Gates open.
Light and open water beckon boat to
Pond
Freedom.

Martin Delemare
12th June 2002

A Paddle on the Cut

Water ripples on the bridge
Light bars shimmer on the arch
Bow noses through
Boat obediently follows, a silent vessel.

Ahead, trees bow over the cut
Mist, floats aloft, burnt
By the fiery climbing orb
A moorhen calls from nearby rushes

Water runs down paddle shaft
And pours and drips on hull
Rays that sparkle on the surface.

Martin Delemare
17th February 2003

Sahel

Industrialists increase the profit margin.
Factories and manufacturing plants
Blossom, sprouting towers and chimneys

Belching sulphur dioxide.

Scientists research long-term effects
Laboratories and conical flasks
Experiment, calculating data and graphs

Denying global damage.

Politicians debate developing countries
Continents and emerging nations
Negotiate, arranging deals and foreign aid

Selling military hardware.

Meteorologists expound by super map
Symbols and directional arrows
Pointing, explaining aerosols and thermal balance

Rationalising eternal drought

Children search the dried riverbed
Dust and desiccation cracks
Withhold, concealing bulbs and sustenance

Starving famined infants.

Martin Delemare
13th June 2002

Sun, Sea and Sand

Sun bakes the day
Sea salt cakes the body
Sand finds the crevices

Parasols shade the glare
Boats buoyant on the brine
Showers rinse the grime

Ice cool lager slakes
Paella calms the pangs
Books occupy the mind

Sun bakes the day
Sea salt cakes the body
Sand finds the crevices

Martin Delemare
23rd August 2004

Gatso

Gatso, oh so yellow!
Prominently watching the
Stripes of white across
The road. You wait.

Gatso, oh so patient!
Silently watching the
Cars pass by below
The trap. You wait.

Gatso, oh so clever!
Endlessly watching for the
Speeding car to roar by
Your post. You flash.

Gatso, oh so efficient!

Martin Delemare
30th November 2004

The Chilli

It sits in oily jar,
Understated by far.
Red, picante in spice
Looking oh, so very nice.

The moment it touches
Your mouth, it clutches
Delicate bits and burns;
Warms the heart and burns.

Martin Delemare
23rd April 2003

Out at Dusk

Shadow across the bank
Swift and low, moves fast
Stops in the dark unseen
But I know he’s there.
Fox out on the forage.

Stands silent among reeds
Still and tall, unmoving
Stares out at water’s edge
But I see the white streak.
Heron out on the fish.

Shuffles like a sturdy rug
Shaggy tank across road
Storms through black hedge
But I miss him in car.
Badger out on the hunt.

Martin Delemare
31st August 2006

Hell on Earth

Clang of door echoes
Loud but no one hears.
Deaf halls and corridors
Red stick down the
Twisted paths of time.
Blind coats and doctors
White stick down the
Tortured paths of time.

Hollow faces; orbs glare
But empty bowl of skull
Body pricked by endless
Stream of chemicals.
Drugs to calm; drugs to
Pacify the anger within.
Eradicate thought and mind.

Stubborn cases hooked up
Wired for shock treatment
Burn the thinking cells
Remove all trouble and doubt.

Chains on the handles
Locks click; doors tight
Keep visitors out
Keep victims out of sight.

Martin Delemare
18th September 2006

Duvet Day

Snuggle warm down in your bed
Listen to the rain upon the pane.
Snuggle warm and snuggle tight
Listen to the wind’s screaming might.
Cold fingers poke at the fringe.
Snuggle down and wrap up tight.
Don’t venture out there in the cold
Don’t venture out there in the rain.
Sip your tea and nibble your toast.
This my friend is a duvet day.

Martin Delemare
29th May 2006

Portland Bill Boats

Cliffs fall sheer to swell
Rising and falling
Swirling at the base.
Seagulls yell and glide
Flotsam in eddy.

Wooden structures stand
Like ancient gallows
Along the cliff tops.
Winches, wire, shackles
All very ready

Fisher proud in boat
Jersey, grubby cap
Swings out over brine
Rattle, rapid clank.
Down it goes to sea.

Splash and chains unhooked
Oars in pinions safe
Fisherman with stack
Of old pots and buoys
Rows in search of crabs.

Martin Delemare
31st July 2006

My Dishwasher

Dishwasher, swish that dish.
Squirt the water on the plate.
Spin around in steamy spray
Clean all muck off that tray.

Dishwasher, swish that dish.
Blast chemicals on so fast
Clean that knife, fork and spoon
Shuddering, cornered in the room.

Dishwasher, swish that dish.
Heat the water, dissolve that fat.
Seek out every morsel and bean
To sparkle bright; special sheen.

Dishwasher, swish that dish.
Feel the heat; see that shine
Squeaky glass feels so fine.
Dishwasher, thou art truly mine.

Martin Delemare
16th May 2006

Leaves

Caught in the headlights
Dancing down the street
Swirling tumbling shoal
Of leaves crisp lively
Fish of the autumn
Wind driven hurry
A rush before the blast
Scurry hurry on and on.

Had to stop and watch
The myriad rush and jostle
Pass on by at speed
Every hue of brown
Scraping and scratching by
A noisy school driven
By the evening wind
A frenzy of flurry.

Martin Delemare
8th November 2005

Fixer and Mixer

Down the road, Down the road
It came trundling boldly.
Diplomats dealt deft diplomacy
On high in lofty towers.
Grinning in the corner sat the government fixer,
As down the road trundled the concrete mixer.

Down the road, Down the road
It came trundling badly.
Resistance regiments required results
From bunkers hidden and battered.
Solemn in his corner sat the government fixer
As through the wall burst the concrete mixer.

Across the yard, Across the yard
It came trundling loudly.
Mesmerized minions mumbled motionless
In foyer glassy brittle.
Guilty in his corner sat a government fixer
As blasted into fragments was the concrete mixer.

Martin Delemare
22nd August 2003

Building Aeroplanes in the Sky

Now in this period of change
I am looking for a positive attitude.
I want no negativity here.
We’ve raised the bar on this one
And we will continue to expand
Our resource base as we proceed.
So it will be very much like
Building aeroplanes in the sky.
So we will not be landing to
Bolt on any odd bits and bobs,
Very much hands on, suck it and see.

If I read you correctly sir
Building Aeroplanes in The Sky
Well that’s
BATS!

Martin Delemare
24th August 2006

Blue Sky Thinking

Sun was shining; blue overhead
Staring at agenda; printed on paper red.
Seeming fair enough; bullet points down
Blue Sky Thinking; seen without a frown.
The message was clear; day was fine
Means back home; time was mine.

But it was not; It was not to be
A different meaning; silly old me.
Thoughts held aloft; thoughts up high
Vision for the future; clear blue sky.

Martin Delemare
4th July 2005

Tsunami

Sea sucks shingle and sand
Before onrush of towering wave.

Deep in depths of hidden trench
Subduction zone of ooze descending.
Plate buckles and releases
Pushing up tons of water.

In mid ocean but a tiny wave
But inland a towering wall
Of water rushing to crowded shore
Sweeps all before it; ruin.

Sea sucks shingle and sand
Before onrush of towering wave.

Martin Delemare
30th March 2005

Highwayman

Hooves dash the road
Reins pulled back hard
Hiding and skulking
Behind hawthorn tree.

Wheels turn over, round
Ready for a halt but not
So soon as this ambush.

Ghastly figure emerges
Shouts the call so clear.
Cutlass and pistol prize
The coin and jewel away.

It’s all in the moor land mind.
All just a faraway figment.
Today’s robbing roadster
Hides in dark legers;
Plies dark statistician’s art.

Martin Delemare
11th July 2006

Safe Journey

Mists rolled over the mudflats.
Fog billowed off the banks.
In the distance a figure moved
Far off and slowly ambling.
Now seen but then gone
Into the low swirling veils
Later to appear slightly nearer.

A hunched figure slowly
Zigzagging across the flats
Following the gravels bars
And solid paths, safe routes
Through the ooze and mud.

Thick coat and lugging a
Big bag of mussels through
The early morning mists
Past the war memorial
Reminding her of the heroic
Deeds of her dead son.

Martin Delemare
5th August 2006

Ceasefire

Guns are silent now.
Quiet rings the ruins.
Calm reigns in craters.

You won the war.
You were not defeated.
Funny to say that.
Enemy says the same.

Look at your success.
Survey your victory.
Among the crumbling buildings
Among smashed cars and trucks.

Look you at the
Frightened faces, young.
Trace the tear track
Deep in the skin.

Martin Delemare
16th August 2006

High Tide

Waves curled and dumped
Stones of water on the beach.
The tide was high and calm
Pushing at the jetsam line
Blue and orange hawser rope
Entangled with seaweed and tar
Stone-washed wood, sun-bleached
Now gathered by the open fire.
Seagulls whirled and screamed.

She lay on the hot white sand
Bikini skimp, curved and brown
Raven hair tumbling down.
He thin and angular sat
Cross-legged with pan of fish
Sizzling on the blackened grid.

Martin Delemare

9th May 2006