Tag Archives: poetry fropm Liverpool

No, Not Tomorrow.


I will not find myself wallowing in nostalgia,

I will not give in to seeing a sunshine bloom

where a dying rose sags

and slowly fades


losing colour, curled up and closing in on confusion

of why it is no longer loved;

for tomorrow I will not disappear in melancholy,

why would I,

when I can do it beautifully



Ian D. Hall 2017

My Friends Of Jailors.

I thought I’d take a trip to see an old friend,

meet halfway and agree upon the same conclusion

that it had been far too long since we last spent

Time killing time

and the talk of old things between us,

that bound us and which into Middle Age

no longer mattered.


The distance between us was never that far

even after nearly three decades apart

and I reminded him of the blow

by blow replication that he did for me

of my then favourite album cover and wondered if he