poems – Page 6 – Hues of Hankinson

Witches brew, Lancaster Castle

Castle cauldron boiling

Old Chattox caterwauling

Deep in dungeon desperate days

Witches wasting away.

John Law was cursed and died

Whilst on the open road

His crime to scorn Alison Device

And her familiar spirit dog.

Chattox turned the milk sour

Confessed to killing Robert Nutter

All ten witches tried at the assize

In the court at the castle of Lancaster

Witches sabbat

Malkin tower

Death by hanging

We remember forever.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This was for d’Verse we were asked to use verbs and a landscape that spoke to us. Today I was at Lancaster castle meeting up with a friend who is visiting from NZ. This castle is an important part of Lancaster’s landscape and has existed in some shape and form for more than 1000 years. It is the home of the assizes and courts and is part of the Royal Duchy of Lancaster. One of the most famous trials was that of the Pendle witches in 1612, where 10 were found guilty and hanged. The stone was part of a series commissioned on the 400th anniversary to commemorate the witches story. There is a tercet on each stone and they are located around the city.

At the trial the evidence of Jennet Device who was only 9 years old, is believed to have set the precedent for using children as witnesses in witch trials and this was to have an impact as far afield as Salem.

Jack “Legs” Diamond

“Are you serious? ” Alice said

“Stone cold He’s dead”

Shot in the head

Whilst sat in bed.

He was a malevolent man

From evil clan

Drug run thriller

Gangland killer

Prohibition mafia man

Irish dance-man

Legs Diamond

The Clay pigeon.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Playing with a new form- the minute for d’Verse. This is about Jack the legs Diamond, who was perhaps related to Lily and Fairground Fay.

He was a real gangster and his wife was Alice Kenny Diamond. The image is a prohibition image and is creative commons.

Back at you… determined not to be a martyr Lily took the law into her own hands….

I want to serve it back

With a wooden cricket bat

Just one great big thwack

Sends you reeling in the rain

I Paddle in your blood stain

“That’ll learn you” I feel no disdain

Bat in hand and now it is done

You are forever silenced and gone

Only vile memories of you linger on.

There is no post murder remorse

You broke me and ridiculed my flaws

No grief just justice in this final vengeful divorce.

Alison Jean Hankinson

This was an accidental poem and I suspect Lily is a distant relative of Fairground Fay. However as I searched for a suitable image of Lily….I came across the beautiful Lillian Gish. She was movie star in the silent movie era, and although she never married, she did have several love affairs, one notorious one with a director called D W Griffith. There were some who declared the relationship to be “an ongoing psychodrama” but I have no real knowledge of this matter. Anyway I feel that Lillian Gish is the perfect image for my accidental revenge poem. Both images courtesy of wikimedia.

Game Over.

Worthlessness wins

Nauseating numbness

Dreams diminish and die

Silent sorrows surface

Regret rising like a rancid tide.

Regret rising like a rancid tide

Silent sorrows surface

Dreams diminish and die

Nauseating numbness

Worthlessness wins.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

A palindrome poem. This was my first attempt at a Palindrome poem the other week. I was at a low ebb, things had been a little complicated. I thought I would submit it for the open link night at d’Verse.

Bring out yer dead….

Black death blood and guts

Fleas on rats as big as cats

Summer death follows.

Alison Jean Hankinson

V0010682 A rat stowing away on a ship, carrying the plague further af

This is for d’Verse poetics we were asked to write a poem that was related to a sign or symbol and this came from my Year 7 teaching today, where the red cross on the door of a house meant the occupants had the plague and the cries on the street were “Bring out yer dead”.

The image is from Wikimedia.

The file from Wellcome images-

A rat stowing away on a ship, carrying the plague further afield. Drawing by A.L. Tarter, 194-.

Iconographic Collections
Keywords: Albert Lloyd Tarter

Death of Spring

Bird dead in the road
Should be love serenading
Metaphor for Spring.

blackpool-44 Alison Jean Hankinson

We have had a wet windy cold snap as spring is supposed to move into summer it feels more like Autumn.

Lai Lines

Angst and angry throes

And Midsummer Woes

June blue

Sadness overflows

Dark Depression shows

Blue you

When Nobody knows

Just how raw it blows

Breakthrough.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Still playing around with the lai concept for d’Verse...whilst watching the early votes come in……

This Old House

Blot on the landscape

Ugliest house drapes

Lime green

Garden not shipshape

A narrow escape

hygiene

Dirty old milk crate

For a garden gate

Rats’ dream.

Alison Jean Hankinson

A light-hearted attempt at a Lai for d’Verse….not as easy as it looks…and my first ever…

In this life…

In this life of complex order and sequence

Is a simplicity and fragility that is there to guide us.

We must value the moment we hold in our hands

Take it and treasure it and place it in our conscious mind.

In this life of uncertainty and fragmented disenchantment

we must honour the souls of the ones that came before us

So that that our own endeavours however meagre and small

Will have dignity and connection in their labour and toil.

We must appreciate the moments of beauty and bounty

And be humble and honest and have integrity.

Lest all that we know should be gone tomorrow

In this life of tragedy and human sorrow.

Alison Jean Hankinson

Whilst I wrote this on Saturday it was entirely with the sentiments of d’Verse poetics challenge that was looking for poems to save the soul….and I think we have suffered greatly in the last few weeks with the attacks on London and Manchester and I wanted to peel back the layers to what is still important and will always be important.

Today was a very blustery day….a pooh bear kind of day, and so long as we remember to feel the wind on our face and acknowledge it for what it is we are still clearly alive and functioning.

Brunton Park boogie-woogie

Grey-haired renegades

Body-popping bimble-bugs

Summer spirits soar.

We were highly entertained on a beautiful summer evening at Brunton Park, Carlisle watching the UB40 Grandslam tour. It was a relaxed affair, every bit old school reggae with some Level 42 for good measures. I suspect the average age of the audience was pushing 50. The beer flowed, everything was mellow and there were smiling happy people enjoying sunshine, good music and a little bit of bimbling bopping…I get auto-corrected every time I try to use bimbling, but it is a word…although I took the liberty of adding to it in my short senryu

It was a long walk home and I suspect there will be many had tired and aching feet and a few with added hangover this morning, but it was a welcome reminder of the good natured side of eighties life…there was nothing to prove…no hidden dystopian novellas wrapped in shady riffs, just sunshine and the occasional syncopated rhythm from a trill trumpet or a laid back sax. Reggae on renegades.

Alison Jean Hankinson