Gone With The Ships

Gone With The Ships (a poem for Shelagh Delaney)
 
Raised letters on slugs of metal
all moulded in reverse
Punched through an ink soaked ribbon
for ten days worth of words
 
The smell of the grease paint the roar of the crowd
through Irish ancestral eyes
Then sealed in scenes on celluloid
under a smoke filled Salford sky
 
When a working class weren’t represented
where another class graced the stage
The ‘anyone for tennis’ considered a menace
The young girl at eighteen years of age
 
The cover of class and of race and of gender
compelled to record and reflect what was real
You showed them a world they chose to ignore
spurred by those that were just too genteel
 
I’m oh so glad and I’m oh so grateful
for all them words you wrote
Putting northerners on the map you never once doffed a cap
and you spoke just like us ordinary folk
 
No narrative drool from a public school
with the stiffest of upper lips
That’d never stepped foot out of London
and never seen a pan o’ chips
 
You perfectly scripted the impaired and afflicted
and those that never chose to have holes in their socks
A voice for the poor that is sadly no more
gone with the ships that sailed on the docks
 
Shelagh Day Salford Arts
Written and performed by JB Barrington at Salford Arts Theatre on Tuesday 25th November as part of the Shelagh Delaney Day.
 
© JB Barrington 2014
© Words Escape me 2014

About JB Barrington

The words & verse of JB Barrington; performance poet from Salford. Lovely stuff, touches heart strings and the odd raw nerve - Johnny Vegas Great poems; great delivery - Terry Christian A warm charm, a rapier wit and a real appreciation of words - Louder Than War
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