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Subject:

Re: New sub: England's First Lines

From:

Maryann Hazen-Stearns <[log in to unmask]>

Reply-To:

The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>

Date:

Sun, 27 Jan 2002 11:25:50 -0800

Content-Type:

text/plain

Parts/Attachments:

Parts/Attachments

text/plain (173 lines)

Hi Gerald,

This is such great fun! I'll have to give it a try myself...thanks for
posting it. I'll have to post mine when it's ready.

Cheerwell, Mary :O)

--- Gerald England <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> On the premise that is permissible
> for writers to make new poems
> out of their own words
> this poem is composed
> entirely from the first lines
> of previously written poems.
>
> c&c welcome
>
>
>
>  ENGLAND'S FIRST LINES
>
> a selection from the first lines of poems by Gerald England
>
>
> A blackbird lands
> A continued escalation of colliding steel
> A good beer-barrel
> A man sits in a cave knitting
> A quarter of a century gone
> A slogan a day
> A theatre in Copenhagen
> A thin layer of virgin-white snow
> A two-foot long glass column
> A white shadow shines through night cloud
> Abask the sea-wall
> After Mothers Day
> Alice was demure and O
> All the way to Bury
> Amid the heather
> Among the lupins
> And after little suzie
> And it was his grief that kept him travelling
> And the baby miscarried
> And the gulls woke me at half past
> And the sick man's vomit was spat out
> Apple bread, champagne dip, Easter egg,
> As a clashing cymbal in the discordant darkness of the night
> At the Bay at the Back of the Ocean
>
> Bare midriffs above belt-like skirts
> Bedraggled daffodils line the lanes
> Belladonna is unlucky
> Beyond the wooded embankment home
> Big Irma
>
> Child lost in big store
> Come to our raveup in York they said
>
> Damn the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation
> Deeply Katy threw her dress open
> Dementia patients ramble on the freeway of her face
> Don't smother the fire, mother
>
> Everyone's going to heaven
>
> First catch your crow
> Friendly face peeping
>
> Gillamoor looked great that day
> Going to Glimps Holm
>
> Hair dressed up in curlers
> Have you ever watched a snail
> He, bold, brassy, Geordie
> High tops streaked with snow
> History books in which you are an elephant
>
> I carry the weight of the world on my back
> I do not like telephones
> I got some tissues with my coffee yesterday
> I knew of your visit to the blacksmith
> I took my wife to a chinese restaurant to eat
> I was a teenage werewolf
> I was taking about Cleopatra
> If God is dead
> In the box there is a cat
>
> Kettle on coal fire
> Knickerless Nicola
>
> Labelled with a sticker on our lapels
> Leaving Oldham
> Lesbian bodies take advantage of patient work
> Life's mostly a game said the poor man
> Lloyd George knew my granddad
> Lost down country lanes
>
> Moo
> My son builds with his Lego
> My wife is talking
>
> Nodding drowsily against his winter habit
>
> On the far side of Hope
> One corner of the tarmaced field
> Outside the X-ray
> Overwhelmed like fish
>
> Poor Peter
> Possum roadkill
>
> Queen Victoria
>
> Real nude women mourned new ale
> Re-listening to sixties' protest songs
> Rent a bench
> Reproduction strictly prohibited
>
> Sat in the car on Royd Moor Lane
> Sharing its route with slow canals
> She is Mother England
> Sheep suckle their lambs
> Skin was slit like the opening of an envelope
> Sleet at the window
> So this is Brighton
> Somewhere I saw a South-West wind
> Sunday-morning sex
>
> The Arrival of the Queen of Sheeba
> The dog dodges puddles in the road
> The fox comes nightly to her garden
> The geese do not know which way to turn
> The hitchhiker had bought a black tie
> The ice is frozen in upon itself
> The morning when the Queen came to town
> The taps are dripping all over the city
> The wind that whistles over Oldham Edge
> The year that Patrick Sellar came to Strathnaver
> There hadn't always been a rainbow
> There were several entrances
> This is a multi-part poem in MIME format
> Through the windy pass
> Two demented vultures
>
> Up Ingleborough
>
> Victims of the bottle
>
> We had a very quiet Christmas
> We were never lovers
> When Margaret first met Malcolm
> Why are your poems so full of country images
>
> Yeah, yeah, I know what I said
> You said you wanted to live
>
>
>   GERALD ENGLAND


=====
Good Cheer & Be Well,
Maryann Hazen-Stearns
"Under The Limbo Stick"
http://www.geocities.com/Faerhart/
also available at these locations:
http://www.vivisphere.com  http://www.amazon.com

__________________________________________________
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