Poetry by
Jon Stocks
| ALICIA’S DIARY Meet me and I shall know you, light and shadow, A formless, fantastic distillation, Confection of smoke and fogs and gaslight. Meet me and I’ll watch you as you wander, Dreamily up pea-souped side streets, Long neck hidden by black buttoned collar, Your exhaled breath, a ghostly miasma, Drifting past the clanking city tram-cars, The news boy who teases you, calling out your name. Meet me on Fargate, waiting at Cole’s corner, Top hat and tailed, tapping with my cane. Yours for all eternity my darling,The six- thirty for St Pancras. London lays waiting at the end of the line Seething with metropolitan passion Under cloudless sky’s this hot June day Imagine it humming like a locust swarm Shimmering wildly under ozone Leaking dreams into the stratosphere. London’s words flow and flood with the river Inundating bookshops and libraries I ponder the latest emissions The no mans land of St Pancras station Less than an hour away as the wine flows London imagined seems just as real. When I travelled south with the anarchists From Manchester with righteous anger Our knives sharpened for the Thatcher boys Then I hated London with a mission The proletarian toadying Tories The drab pomposity of royalty Slick bankers smug in their easy vice. I couldn’t love London until it called Inviting my time to read and talk Until it put me up in smart hotels And I began to feel it wanted me But now it’s love unconditional For chaos and deconstruction The capital’s chameleon smile. Yours beyond the final cutting edge of
time. |
| Last train for Edinburgh The train for Edinburgh is delayed We watch the snow tumble in weary silence Try to warm our hands on mugs of coffee Soon falling into the mystical trance Of delayed travellers everywhere Cocooned in our shadows of substance. And then, suddenly, I catch the eye Of the girl I dreamed about last night Unmistakably, the same long, brown coat Her hair tied back, and her dark green eyes. In my dream we spent the afternoon together In galleries and strolling by the river We talked about sex and love and death Families, the fragility of passion Sat on a bench by roses at St Pauls And later over latte, tea and scones. She is about to board the London train As in my dream, I move towards her There is the faintest hint of recognition A curious and almost teasing stare A half smile before she turns away And then is lost forever. |
Copyright 2006 Jon Stocks
All Rights Reserved
| My name is Jon Stocks. I live and
work in Sheffield UK, a city once famous for it’s steel industry but now re-inventing itself as a creative arts and new media city. Sheffield is surrounded by some wild and beautiful scenery and London is only a few hours away. I spent a lot of time in both. Like most poets I also spend a lot of time in bars, drinking Latte’s or red wine. I find that both help to facilitate moments of deep, solipsist insight. I like to think that I write poems of intense mystical beauty, but as I also think I should have been the future of rock and roll and opened the batting for England against Australia, I am probably just another half-cooked ego-maniac. I am widely published in the UK recent work having appeared, or being scheduled to appear in The Coffee House magazine, Coffee House, Littoral, the Other, Cambridge University review, Manifold, Candelabrum, Decanto, Poetry Monthly, Tadeeb, Harlequin, the Black Rose and Carillon. I am currently working on a first novel and also write short stories; winning the Carillon magazine, short story competition last year. My poem, ‘Moon dreams’ was recently short-listed for the National Poetry Anthology. A small number of poems are currently being transformed into short films as part of a film poetry project, and my poem, ’Alicia’s Diary’ was selected to be performed in Sheffield Cathedral as part of a Multi media poetry presentation. Other work has been performed on live radio on world poetryday. |