Down Pigsty Hill
By catherine poarch
- 2131 reads
I love the bus that rolls down Pigsty Hill
and sees the city fish-eyed, from the top.
Past every crack on every windowsill,
it chunters slowly to the slopey stop
and on they get. A shepherd with his sheep.
A wise man, with a pocketful of gold.
The unknown soldier, stretching from her sleep.
Apocalyptic horsemen, growing old.
And all the way down Gloucester Rd, they tell
long stories, made of fire, love and dust,
until they hear the pressing of the bell
and get off at the Centre, as they must.
Forgetting all the days they could not fill,
they love the bus that rolls down Pigsty Hill.
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Comments
Quite a journey. We being in
Quite a journey. We being in Pigsty Hll and end there.
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So much
to like in this piece :)
Enjoyed
Lena x
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Hi Catherine,
Hi Catherine,
I've been down Pigsty Hill many a time in the past, and Gloucester Road was one of my favourite hangouts back in the 1970s. Went swimming at the baths and loved the shops so much.
Your descriptions in this poem were great to read.
Jenny.
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LOVED this! "Slopey stop" is
LOVED this! "Slopey stop" is perfect, and all the wonderful passengers with their powerful stories, then the incongruity of the "Centre". And through it all your incomparable rhythm and rhyme
should it be "until they hear the pressing of the bell"? I really liked your mention of the bell, too as it is a part of all bus journeys, even ones not so amazingly magical as this :0)
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maybe they are trying to
maybe they are hiding out till there are enough to start their own language
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This is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day
"Fire, love and dust". Quite.
Congratulations, this is our FB and Twitter Pick of the Day.
Please retweet and/or share if you do the social media thing, dear members.
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Brilliant - thank you for
Brilliant - thank you for taking me to a place I've never visited - there's nothing like a bus journey for inspiration is there! Let's hope they keep on funding them (they're dying a slow death here and it's very sad). Congratulations on the golden cherries!
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The unknown soldier
The unknown soldier stretching from her sleep.
The Soldier being female caught me off guard. Don't know why, just did. I know there are female Soldiers, have encountered many many many, anyway, the memorial here is the Tomb of the Unknowns, one from WWI, WWII and Vietnam, if I remember right. There was a battle over always capitalizing Marine but not soldier, sailor or airman. The Marines lost that battle, at least in military journals, now each service is capitalized. Much obliged for the read. Chunters, good word.
V/R
TJ
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I wondered if it was that no
I wondered if it was that no one on the bus knew, from looking at her, that the lady had been a soldier? Like the old lady on the news who had been a really brave double agent and no one round her had known?
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This is our Poem of the Week
This is our Poem of the Week - Congratulations!
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Honours for the photo go to
Honours for the photo go to Ewan who found it!
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