Derek Adams

Derek Adams p.2

Lee Miller at War

Be Kind Rewind

What a waste

Lee Miller at War

That crazy blonde:
Rollieflex, whiskey flask, typewriter
and monogrammed knuckle-duster.

Her helmet, with its custom visor,
the one Roland painted
vertical eye slits on;

so she looked like
a knight of Charlemagne
on a quest.

I can see her now in
Dave Scherman’s photo,
naked in Hitler’s bath tub,

her great army boots on the floor,
dirt from Dachau
stamped into the rug.

Copyright © 2015 Derek Adams
Lee Miller at War read by Derek Adams
Be Kind Rewind

Perhaps it would be kinder
if I didn’t read this letter
resealed its envelope
put it back upon the doormat,
where before the door shuts
you could backup the stairs to place
your clothes on the wardrobe’s rail
take out a tissue from the bin
push the tears back in
as quieting words
return between lips closing, silent,
in a room  where morning shines
through slatted blinds
on tousled heads, exhausted through
nights of love and days spent
decorating walls bright and new,
should I carry you back
over the threshold of our flat
back through galleries and parks,
cinemas and restaurants: back
to the bar where our lips press
in this first everlasting gobstopper of a kiss.

Copyright © 2016 Derek Adams
derek@derek-adams.co.uk
Be Kind Rewind read by Derek Adams
What a waste
(for Ian Dury)

There’s a feeling, like the memory of a Kursaal ride,
an old wind, a cold wind that stirs inside.
Rolling in like the wind off the estuary tide,
down a dead flat, mud flat, eight miles wide.

And
somewhere, somefing, somehow sighed,
what a waste - what a waste,
Ian Dury died.

Snazzy little geezer wiv a spazzy stick.
A concrete mixer voice, rough and fick.
Takes the stage, like a fief on the nick.
Hard bard, art tart, don't giva shit.

And
somefing, somehow, somewhere sighed,
what a waste - what a waste,
Ian Dury died.

Words of an angel, dressed wiv a mallet,
mixed wiv spit from a painters palette.
Raw sound, foot down, pushed to the limit,
escaped from the cage of an old cock linnet.

And
somehow, somewhere, somefing sighed,
what a waste - what a waste,
Ian Dury died.

Copyright © 2015 Derek Adams
What a waste read by Derek Adams

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