Leaving Newcastle on Tyne. By Tony Chapman.

Leaving Newcastle on Tyne.. By Tony Chapman.

Lovers say goodbye, bid farewell, part

hands like butterflies, quicksilver eyes

who dares to say they are wrong?
who dares to say they are right?
to condemn them in their blindness?
to condemn them in their sight?

to lock them in the pitfalls of their weakness?
to lock them in the mountains of their might?

Grief was a word unknown to me
     – until the parting of a loved one
                                  – but it had to be
                                           – I had to see
though l had closed my eyes.

Child of the moon
I have lived in your glow for three years now

is it time that puts so many links in our chain?
or is it thine and mine hands
   that secure the lock
            with happiness and pain?

The chains of mystery are padlocked together
                            the keys lost for ever and ever.

The chain that binds, that unites us as one
Seagull, I just catch a glimpse of your white feather wings
as I cross the rusting, iron bridge
of the big, dirty, no-man’s river of dockland.

Newcastle upon Tyne, North of England,
I came to you like beauty to the beast.

Louise, moonchild,
      you were nuzzled into its
             great, ugly, rusty (horrific) breast.

I leave its sculptured wasteland
    of cranes and grubby children
    of its diaries
           with black and blanked pages.

I wander down its ribbonous highway
     an opal mint in my mouth,
         a duffle bag over my shoulder,
               Tyrannasorous Rex
                      singing inside my head
                            with age that little bit older
                                  in a “United Automobile Services Ltd.,
                                      GRANGE RD. DARLINGTON Coach”

out into the world.

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