{"id":15,"date":"2014-10-16T15:30:00","date_gmt":"2014-10-16T14:30:00","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2023-11-13T04:14:29","modified_gmt":"2023-11-13T04:14:29","slug":"hobo-magazine-poetry-pages-1973-5-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/2014\/10\/16\/hobo-magazine-poetry-pages-1973-5-part-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Hobo Magazine – Poetry Pages 1973 \/ 5 (Part 2)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Continuing from Part one, further contributions of poetry or connections to the local or regional poetry scene.<\/b>
\nThese have been transferred from the original Hobo Vox blog from 2006 \/ 7<\/b><\/p>\n

SADNESS by Gina Grunskis<\/b>
\n(Willenhall Wood – Coventry)<\/p>\n

Piercing tears from cold grey eyes,
\nFalling gently, forming pools on
\nonce dry ground.
\nArch your body, cover your
\nfeelings in pride.
\nSwell out your chest to show
\nyour thumping heart,
\nlooking round for a place
\nto hide,
\nto lie in a dark corner and
\nsob yourself to sleep.
\nTo toss and turn out nightmares.
\nWake up cold and shivering,
\nall alone.
\nWonder how long this never ending
\nfriendless night would last.
\nIf only I could catch your sadness –
\ntake away, dilute it in sugar’d water,
\nto form a floating reed on
\na silent flowing river
\ngoing far away
\nRippling happy water on
\nthe pebbles of your broken heart.
\n…………………………….<\/p>\n

Poems by Lyndie B.<\/b><\/p>\n

This one appeared on the front cover of Hobo No 3 February 1974<\/i><\/p>\n

The blinds are up<\/p>\n

\n<\/a><\/div>\n

daylight hurts
\nThe sun is cold
\nI’ve an empty cup
\nThe trees are bare
\nWinter lives
\nThe birds are dead
\nI see and care.
\nLyndie B
\n……………..<\/p>\n

What is there without you?
\nThe milk bottles on the rain washed step
\nA cat with fleas and kittens due
\nThe same old alarm clock without a bell
\nand a bed that has grown too big.
\nStrawberry jam in the making
\nmaking an effort without you.
\nA new dress in crinkle brown paper
\nBut there isn’t a mirror without you.
\nWhat is there without you?
\nThe same old tomorrow morning
\nwith its middle in yesterday.
\nHomemade bread to be be kneaded.
\nI needed and now I’m without you.
\nTussled hair blown in the wind
\nNo need for brushing without you.
\nWhat is there without you.?
\nLyndie B – 1974
\n……………….<\/p>\n

Four to a square
\nThree to a triangle
\nToo many to each person.
\nAt least two
\nin an argument.
\nBut One in a marriage.
\nA coin goes both ways
\nA sperm splits the egg.
\nLife has one end
\nBirth is the beginning
\nLife is the end
\nDeath the resurrection.
\nBirds have fans
\nDogs have tails,
\nMen have only stories.
\nLyndie B – 1974<\/p>\n

………………………………………………..<\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\nAt Peace in a Wood<\/b>
\n
<\/b>
\nI am ageless
\n<\/a>My roots are in the earth
\nWith the trees
\nAnd I too have grass
\nBetween my toes.<\/p>\n

I am nature
\nMy mind is in harmony
\nWith the trees
\nAnd I too have leaves
\nAt my fingertips.<\/p>\n

I am peace
\nMy form moves with the wind
\nWith the trees
\nAnd I too live on
\nFor eternity.<\/p>\n

I am strong
\nMy death is not real
\nWith the trees
\nAnd I too die at the sharp axe
\nOf society.<\/p>\n

Lyndie – 1972.<\/b>
\n…………………………………………..<\/b>
\n
<\/b>
\nPoems by Dave ‘Byron’ Reid<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

Tell me once again Malcolm
\nAbout the magicians.
\nWhat spells are they into now?<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
David (Byron) Reid by Jackie Finch 1972<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

\nIt\u2019s true Malcolm
\nthey never could teach me magic.
\nYes Malcolm I was lost
\nway lost and all they were
\ndoing was showing me the simplest spells
\nall they were doing was <\/div>\n

\narsing about.and I was <\/div>\n
\nlooking on with my sternest <\/div>\n
\neyes what a laugh Malcolm, <\/div>\n
\nthey were laughing tell me <\/div>\n
\nonce again Malcolm <\/div>\n
\nhow we arrived you and me
\non the same day.
\nat this asylum reception desk.
\nyou with your luggage full <\/div>\n
\nof magic and me <\/div>\n
\nempty handed?<\/p>\n

David Reid<\/b> (Known as Byron in Coventry) 1972
\nPublished in Hobo No 2 Aug 1973<\/b><\/div>\n

\n
<\/b><\/div>\n
\n………………………………………<\/b><\/div>\n
\n
\n\n\n\n
\n

My father
\nWho I hadn’t seen for donkey\u2019s years
\nAnd who hadn\u2019t spoken to me
\nfor so much longer.
\nCame to piss in a toilet where I
\nwas already pissing.
\nWe looked across the crashing water.
\nI saw his red face …his lovely tyrant eyes.
\nI looked down and saw.. he held his prick
\nLike I held mine. If only
\nwe’d known this
\nEarlier!<\/p>\n

David Reid<\/b> (Known as Byron in Coventry) 1972<\/span>
\n………………………………………………..<\/p>\n

\nIf  I got<\/span><\/div>\n
\nSomehow<\/span><\/div>\n
\nParalysed<\/span><\/div>\n
\nWould you stay<\/span><\/div>\n
\nWith me?<\/span><\/div>\n
\nDon\u2019t talk wet,<\/span> <\/span> <\/span><\/div>\n
\nHe said.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nHe shook his head<\/span><\/div>\n
\nWhy do you fuck evenings<\/span><\/div>\n
\nUp with asking<\/span><\/div>\n
\nMe such things?<\/span><\/div>\n
\nMe, who paid for your Cherry B!<\/span><\/div>\n
\nWho\u2019s given you more than one \u2018Players<\/i>\u2019<\/span>  <\/div>\n
\nThis night.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nHe then pulled her close<\/span><\/div>\n
\nGave her mouth a jawbreaker<\/span><\/div>\n
\nBand with his.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nShe sprang away as if his lips<\/span><\/div>\n
\nWere drawing pins.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nI’ve got to know!  she screamed.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nThe pub suddenly had faces.<\/span><\/div>\n
\n<\/div>\n
\nHe went bright red.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nThat night<\/span><\/div>\n
\nIn lover\u2019s lane<\/span><\/div>\n
\nHe beat her up.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nHe\u2019d done it before<\/span><\/div>\n
\nAnd this time he spat<\/span><\/div>\n
\n\u2018Paralysed<\/i>\u2019<\/span><\/div>\n
\nas he clobbered.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nDavid Reid<\/b> (Known as Byron in Coventry) 1972<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n
\n………………………………….<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n

they tell me the pretty pop star is<\/p>\n

\n<\/div>\n

\ngod almighty they believe it if
\nyou could hear them praise him
\nyou’d believe they believe it
\nthe pretty pop star says to
\nthe world I certainly don\u2019t
\nbelieve I\u2019m god almighty
\nI\u2019m no angel says pretty
\npop star one eye on the
\nmirror the other on his
\nbelief that he can make \u2018em
\nscream like no one can make
\n\u2018em scream
\nno hero
\nno a-bomb
\nno acrobat
\nno dracula
\ncan make \u2018em scream like he can
\nugly fat sweaty man called manager
\npats his bottom and says
\n\u2018go make \u2018em scream\u2019
\npretty pop star sayeth \u2018 hey! I feel
\npretty good!\u2019
\nleaps up to the mirror so his
\nnose is against the glass
\nand winks at himself
\n\u2018tomorrow, it\u2019s a sauna bath for you,\u2019
\nguffaws the manager signing
\nsomething or other with gold plated
\nbiro \u2018hey! I feel pretty good!\u2019
\nsays pretty pop star
\nand well he might
\nso many cute little eyes
\nso many tingling little thighs are about
\nto tell him he\u2019s god almighty
\ntremble and scream a massive wave
\nof worship over his little body
\nattempt to sink their souls into
\nthis pretty god almighty.<\/p>\n

David Reid<\/b> (Known as Byron in Coventry) 1972
…………………..<\/span><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

They
\nThe baldheaded ugly men
\nIn morbid suits
\nBlood red ties in
\nColourless department of
\nEmployment offices
\nChat to me.
\n\u2018and why haven’t you got a better working record?<\/i>\u2019 <\/div>\n

\n‘Why you?<\/i>‘
\nAnd I bow my head
\nAnd weep <\/div>\n
\nI….. suffer…..from…… tired……tiredness.<\/p>\n

and
\nIn the streets by the January
\nsales shops <\/div>\n

\nfilthy with bargain hunters
\nChristian hunters <\/div>\n\n\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
David (Byron) Reid by Jackie Finch 1972<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n
\nhunt me down
\nShove <\/div>\n
\nsalvation passports into
\nMy eyes and squeal the
\n‘end \u2013 beginning \u2013 beginning – end<\/i><\/div>\n
\nis nigh, why haven’t <\/i><\/div>\n
\nyou saved yourself?<\/i>‘ <\/div>\n
\nAnd I bow my eyes <\/div>\n
\nto the slush choking the gutter <\/div>\n
\nand weep
\nI suffer from……tiredness…..tiredness<\/p>\n

and<\/p><\/div>\n

\nin my bed
\nThe girl rubs the ointment
\nof her limbs <\/div>\n
\ninto the sore of my need <\/div>\n
\nand I hold <\/div>\n
\non to her like <\/div>\n
\none holds a leaf
\nIn an autumn wind<\/div>\n
\nAnd she<\/div>\n
\ncries ‘why d’you stranglehold<\/i><\/div>\n
\nmy flesh?<\/i>‘<\/div>\n
\n‘Why d’you pin me to your rotten life?<\/i>‘<\/div>\n
\nAnd I <\/div>\n
\nBow my heart and<\/div>\n
\nRage I  I  I  I<\/div>\n\n\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
David (Byron) Reid by Jackie Finch 1972<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n
\nSUFFER<\/div>\n
\nsuffer from tiredness<\/div>\n
\nTired….tiredness.<\/div>\n
\n<\/div>\n
\nAnd she dresses<\/div>\n
\nHurriedly<\/div>\n
\nAnd when she’s<\/div>\n
\nGone I<\/div>\n
\nToo tired to sleep<\/div>\n
\nWatch the darkness from above<\/div>\n
\nTill it suffers from tiredness.<\/div>\n
\n<\/div>\n
\nAnd bowing my mind<\/div>\n
\nI squeeze<\/div>\n
\nOut a poem that shouts<\/div>\n
\nbrag of tiredness<\/div>\n
\nTired..ness<\/div>\n
\nSo i shout till the poem<\/div>\n
\nis happy<\/div>\n
\nwith tiredness…tiredness….<\/div>\n
\n<\/div>\n
\nDavid Reid<\/b> (Known as Byron in Coventry) 1972<\/p>\n

Dave (Byron) Reid also wrote plays, submitted to the BBC<\/p>\n

\n<\/a><\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

\n…………………………..<\/p>\n

\nPoems by Jackie Finch<\/span><\/b>
\n
15 HOUR JOURNEY by Jackie Finch 1972<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/span><\/div>\n

\n
<\/b><\/span><\/div>\n

Giggling madly, I had to turn away<\/p>\n

The sad pathetic face and distorted limbs<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
Lino cut print by Jackie Finch<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

Hilariously sad.<\/p>\n

My body was floating on a millimetre blue cloud<\/p>\n

But as long as I acknowledged this, I was ok<\/p>\n

Complicated thoughts \u2013 turmoil<\/p>\n

Sudden fear \u2013 distorted time and motion<\/p>\n

Badly did I fly<\/p>\n

Reality turned its arse on me<\/p>\n

I stretched out, all gone<\/p>\n

Father was alien so was cat<\/p>\n

Oh, Christ,<\/p>\n

Hospital gushed out sores and blood<\/p>\n

On my body, on my brain<\/p>\n

Complete ignorance on their behalf.<\/p>\n

Shaking, trembling long through the night<\/p>\n

Reality had really travelled far<\/p>\n

Three days, maybe four and finally I stopped<\/p>\n

Questioning, grabbing, testing for materialness<\/p>\n

Normality?<\/span><\/div>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\n……………………….<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n

A POEM by Jackie Finch 1972 <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

Peaceful drops of me and silence<\/p>\n

Wound together in hazy gestures of<\/span><\/p>\n

\n<\/a><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Shining eyes. Together we-us-now<\/p>\n

Are<\/p>\n

A swirling, churling, Furling mass of<\/p>\n

Landscape, handchase, day dream dissolve<\/p>\n

Around you I loved, we shared-changes<\/p>\n

Into a loud quack \u2013 duck fear realization<\/p>\n

Wings in water \u2013 beating, sweating rhythm<\/p>\n

Black,bright your eyes are shining now my love<\/p>\n

Only we can ever know<\/p>\n

But oh such disaster; Great gigantic lumps of metal,<\/p>\n

Brick,<\/p>\n

Shit, mess,<\/p>\n

Rubble, dirt,<\/p>\n

Noise, being, people shattering, crashing, crushing us. If I<\/p>\n

Had a bomb \u2013<\/p>\n

Ho peaceful drops of silence flowing from your brow<\/p>\n

I\u2019d kill us all.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\n……………………….<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n

By Jackie Finch (written in the Golden Cross C. 1973)<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

Strangers<\/p>\n

Self, forceful beliefs<\/p>\n

Breaking the fibres of warmth<\/p>\n

Intolerance causing an anger<\/p>\n

You do not feel<\/p>\n

Smile without contempt<\/p>\n

Smile on your friends and give way.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\n……………………………………………….<\/span>
\n
<\/span>
\nPoems by Ian Gage<\/b><\/span><\/div>\n
\nSome of the poems contributed to Hobo Magazine by Ian back in 1973.<\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

HONESTY LOVE AND YOU<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/b><\/span><\/div>\n

Honesty is a concept,<\/p>\n

And we use it to condemn each other.<\/p>\n

It is an opinion<\/p>\n

Just as right and wrong.<\/p>\n

Love is a goal<\/p>\n

Which sometimes gives peace.<\/p>\n

It is expendable<\/p>\n

As everything else.<\/p>\n

You are my friend<\/p>\n

But it\u2019s only society that\u2019s thrown us together<\/p>\n

We could\u2019ve both been<\/p>\n

Quite different.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n………………………………<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n

For an oak tree you have <\/p>\n

The princely stance of a guardian,<\/p>\n

As if in your silence, you<\/p>\n

Guard the door, to the house<\/p>\n

Of light.<\/p>\n

Endless pages I see tortured,<\/p>\n

By the pen of thoughts.<\/p>\n

Unfounded theories, which,<\/p>\n

Though kind, cannot break<\/p>\n

Through my brain.<\/p>\n

Yet in your wooded suit,<\/p>\n

Surrounded by friends and visited<\/p>\n

By timeless magicians of skies,<\/p>\n

No books can lead me through<\/p>\n

The storm, as you,<\/p>\n

Unto the presence of the holy man.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\n…………………………………..<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

O God,<\/p>\n

so greatly garrisoned<\/p>\n

By your guardians the stars.<\/p>\n

You live hermetically hidden<\/p>\n

So eoen Thomas, one of the<\/p>\n

Learned, could not see you<\/p>\n

As you are.<\/p>\n

You are far<\/p>\n

As a mountain,<\/p>\n

O God<\/p>\n

Who can climb your mind<\/p>\n

And look down, lovingly<\/p>\n

On it all?<\/p>\n

Like a lake is your heart<\/p>\n

O but you are an ocean,<\/p>\n

How can I drink you all,<\/p>\n

To stop my drowning.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\n………………………………………<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n


I planted a root,<\/p>\n

her barren soil arose<\/p>\n

And fled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n………………..<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I wear a ring, which holds my hand,<\/p>\n

Comforting and clasping maternally.<\/p>\n

It carries zodiacs and tales of ancient<\/p>\n

Myth, attracting faces wherever<\/p>\n

It guides me.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a companion, that was lost<\/p>\n

For such a time, and now<\/p>\n

I can hold it in my arms and love it<\/p>\n

Or let it roll.<\/p>\n

My ring is a pride, a descendant<\/p>\n

From the apple tree<\/p>\n

A giver of patience and sight<\/p>\n

Into all hearts a guiding light,<\/p>\n

It tempts me<\/p>\n

And I with bleary eyes pursue.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\n…………………………<\/span><\/div>\n
\nIN THE SKIES OF YOUR EYES<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/div>\n

I never hurt you, but because I\u2019m <\/span><\/div>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\nlike me\u2026.<\/p>\n

Don’t conceive, it\u2019s sadly blind, an <\/span><\/div>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\ninjured mind<\/p>\n

Like the wind my heart is here <\/span><\/div>\n

\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\nto find<\/p>\n

Your friendly soul, O that you would<\/p>\n

Give it all you could to reach me.<\/p>\n

And I’d teach you how to lay<\/p>\n

With the clouds, above our guilty shrouds.<\/p>\n

O your worry, I see it all a lie<\/p>\n

As we dovely fly through the woods<\/p>\n

Of your stormy past<\/span><\/div>\n

\n
Now explained away by my dictionary tongue.<\/p>\n

I lead you through a path<\/p>\n

Of your long and winding mind<\/p>\n

They call it peace to find.<\/p>\n

And I found it in the skies<\/p>\n

Of your eyes, cavern-hearted.<\/span><\/div>\n

\n………………………….<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\nHouse of humble, beseech me<\/span><\/div>\n
\na space in your darkest corner<\/span><\/div>\n
\nof your darkest room, on your <\/span><\/div>\n
\nblackest floor.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nSo is my person shameful, and<\/span><\/div>\n
\nI crawl, my chin drooped and<\/span><\/div>\n
\nhair all dripping sadness,<\/span><\/div>\n
\naway from the world.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nOut of this blinding light<\/span><\/div>\n
\nof confusion and into the security<\/span><\/div>\n
\nof myself.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nPunish and wreck me for my wrongs,<\/span><\/div>\n
\ngorge my eyes, but then,<\/span><\/div>\n
\nlet me crawl away to love.<\/span><\/div>\n
\n………………………..<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n
\nWish each night your<\/span><\/div>\n
\ntogether shines<\/span><\/div>\n
\nbright.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nHope each path that<\/span><\/div>\n
\nyou walk<\/span><\/div>\n
\nis love.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nAnd if ever you feel<\/span><\/div>\n
\nthat you’re <\/span><\/div>\n
\nlonesome<\/span><\/div>\n
\nMay his face<\/span><\/div>\n
\nbrighten<\/span><\/div>\n
\nyour mood.<\/span><\/div>\n
\nIf ever you feel you’re<\/span><\/div>\n
\ndreading the tears<\/span><\/div>\n
\nat the parting of ways<\/span><\/div>\n
\nThen may the thoughts of <\/span><\/div>\n
\nthe good times <\/span><\/div>\n
\ntogether<\/span><\/div>\n
\nEnlighten the cloudy haze.<\/span><\/div>\n
\n……………………………<\/span><\/div>\n
\n
<\/span><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Continuing from Part one, further contributions of poetry or connections to the local or regional poetry scene. These have been transferred from the original Hobo Vox blog from 2006 \/ 7 SADNESS by Gina Grunskis (Willenhall Wood – Coventry) Piercing … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":138,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":146,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15\/revisions\/146"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/138"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artsrainbow.com\/coventrymusicarchives\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}