Results 1 to 7 of 7

Thread: Holt's Field, Liverpool, 1950

Hybrid View

Previous Post Previous Post   Next Post Next Post
  1. #1
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Baltimore, Maryland, USA
    Posts
    3,590

    Default Holt's Field, Liverpool, 1950

    Holt's Field, Liverpool, 1950

    My father is holding bonnie blond me at arm's length
    on his bony knee; the trees of Sudley burgeon beyond
    the shine of his Brilliantined hair; behind me,
    the tower of Mossley Hill church looms; I look
    at the lens puzzled or crying. I reach out
    to my mother, who holds the box camera; the grass
    needs a mow. My father's iron grip holds my wrist.

    Christopher T. George

    Not a great reproduction of the B&W picture, my digital copying skills lacking, but you can see this photograph at http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne...7106004&size=l

    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

  2. #2
    Creator & Administrator Kev's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2005
    Location
    Under The Stairs >> Under The Mud.
    Posts
    7,488
    Blog Entries
    4

    Default

    Chris, I've just added you to my Flickr contacts Good stuff mate
    Become A Supporter 👇


    Donate Via PayPal


    Donate


  3. #3
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Baltimore, Maryland, USA
    Posts
    3,590

    Default

    Thanks, Kev.

    Chris
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

  4. #4
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Baltimore, Maryland, USA
    Posts
    3,590

    Default

    Here's a revision of the same poem:

    Holt's Field, Liverpool, 1950

    Daddy balances bonnie blond me at arm's length
    on his bony knee; uphill, the trees of Sudley burgeon

    beyond the shine of his Brilliantined hair; he's an ex-
    sailor, a demobbed RAF physio. Behind my blurred

    face looms the tower of Mossley Hill church.
    Confused and crying, I reach out

    to Mummy, who points the box camera; the grass
    needs a mow. My father's iron grip holds my wrist.

    Christopher T. George
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

  5. #5
    Senior Member Jericho's Avatar
    Join Date
    Feb 2007
    Posts
    220

    Default

    I prefer the first version.

    'Daddy' and 'Mummy' don't scan for me, just a touch too much of the syrup spoon.

    For me these terms detract from the ambivalence of our first relationships. Arm's length, confused and crying, iron grip.

    Too much info about 'daddy' in the second? (Ideal, however, for family and friends who may need to know that he was a physiotherapist). Like the shine of his Brilliantined hair in both.

    Smell?

  6. #6
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Baltimore, Maryland, USA
    Posts
    3,590

    Default

    Hi Jericho

    Thanks for your thoughtful comments. A version between the two may be needed.

    Chris
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

  7. #7
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Baltimore, Maryland, USA
    Posts
    3,590

    Default

    Little Man, First Snow

    I'm driving down St. Paul in a slushy snow
    in precarious February to fix my Mom's TV,
    it being Oscar Night and she says it's dead;

    near 23rd Street I see a flash on the sidewalk,
    as a Dad immortalizes a snowsuited toddler
    and Mom steadies her bobbling kid in the snow.

    I think of the poem I wrote about Dad holding
    me at Holt's Field on his bony knee, wonder
    why I didn't share the poem with my

    eighty-six-year-old Mom. I park in the snow-filled
    lot by her high rise. It helps to turn the TV on!
    I think of the power blackout between Dad and me.

    Christopher T. George

    A schizophrenic poem this perhaps, melding my two cities:
    Liverpool where I grew up and Baltimore where I live now.
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

Similar Threads

  1. Field Lane - Liverpool 10
    By az_gila in forum Liverpool Genealogy and People Search
    Replies: 3
    Last Post: 02-15-2012, 08:20 PM
  2. HOLT family
    By grandparr in forum Liverpool Genealogy and People Search
    Replies: 0
    Last Post: 01-02-2008, 04:39 PM

Tags for this Thread

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •