Poetry collected or written in Bridlington by Adrian Spendlow
Hello, I am a full-time poet and community worker (born in Bridlington) and recently I was employed as Writer in Residence for Bridlington for a short while. My main brief was to run 'Poetry Adventures' on the beach and to write with the children. I also worked in the Maritime Museum with Mike and Diane Wilson (Who acted as volunteers for me throughout) and on the harbour with around 200 locals and visitors in informal groups.
The Residency was arranged through Work Quake for John Clarke and during the course of the sessions many poems were produced, mainly in groups.
The poems are all below. The first two or three were created in the museum and the middle section were written with informal groups of people along the harbour, (I just went up to people and asked if they would take part and do you know not one group turned me away), and the last two or three are by groups of children who took part in sessions in the Spa and on the beach. Oh yes there is another in there that I wrote whilst dining at Pavarotti's.
I'm sure the many people who took part would be pleased to see them published here.
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Aquarium Overheard
There's something swimming!
Nasty pincers!
Look at its mouth!
Filtering food?
Er... A crab's arms?
Where?
But Mum,
There's some bones
Where? (Can't see)
Little girl
Too low down in the world
What's that Dad?
Where?
Look at it!
Look at it!
Where?
Where?
Where?
Little girl at last
Is lifted
She can see
She responds,
Er! I don't like that!
Adrian Spendlow - Bridlington's Poet in Residence
From conversations overheard in Bridlington's Maritime Aquarium
Bridlington's Maritime Aquarium
Impossible animals anchored in this chunk of ocean
Essence of the seas displayed, moving at its own rate
Swirls of salty time weave life amid the wild moss rocks
Aquarium sings the song of the secret deeps
Leap through that glass into another way to be
And fly the fishes' dance so slow
Am I now, as I watch, discovering a lugubrious tranquillity?
Entranced I exit, never hurried now
Floating through life differently for ever having been there
Dance me back there again another day
Aquarium
Always in my heart and spirit - Held - Remembered
Adrian Spendlow - Bridlington's Poet in Residence
Bridlington Harbour Heritage
Step back in time and sidle past the prison, hurry
Along by the mortuary
Slip the slime of harbour's stone
Whipped by salty breezes
Incoming tide behind
We turn inside
Propelled to where the many seabirds nest
Wonder at the inner whale
The Gansey patterns
Bombs, harpoons and tall keen masts
Fulmar, Kittiwake fly now over storm hit seas
The spirit of the ocean's men recalling ever when
This beach, this harbour wall
Where, piled high, with debris
Never let that spirit be forgot
Netted now - Amid your own imagination
Ponder intrigued over here
This little patch of long hatched memories
Has captured me
Adrian Spendlow - Bridlington's Poet in Residence
I Am Bridlington
I say
Bring you visitors back
And let you see the sea in a rage
I am Bridlington
I move sprouncilly
Swaggering - Proud of my heritage
I give you;
Salty seas, cold stone of the harbour
Silver moonlight paths across the waves
I am Bridlington
And I sing the laments of sailors lost
In my seaweed scarf and sailors Gansey
I am woven into the cloth of the sails
As old as my stone
I am young in my people
Strong in my storms
I am soft in my summers
Bridlington
A home for the waves
My winds can turn in a minute
I am autumn,
Changeable as a Chameleon
I am long cold grey stone,
A finger pointing to the depths
My sea will get you when it's rough
Get you when it's calm
Bridlington
I am a party;
The fun and joy of the summer
I am the getting of gifts
Bridlington
Half remembered - Often recalled
I say,
Love me - Love my harbour
Come again - Come again - Come again
Diane Wilson, 'Bridlington Writers', whilst working as part of Word Quake's Resident Poet scheme with Adrian Spendlow
Bridlington Bridlington Bridlington
Fluffy tickly candyfloss
Pink and shiny bargains
Rich warm sweet - More donuts to the pound
Bobbing boats 'We might fall out'
Exciting bright - There's pirates!
Bridlington Bridlington Bridlington
Welcoming beckoning seats
Thick with workaday stink: Those lobster pots
Ploughing, dozing, pushchairs
The always-busy fishermen
Tides trickle into secret pools
Next time in the caff - everybody's your pal
Bridlington Bridlington Bridlington
Dozing under newspapers
Nodding on the rod and line
Sun sparkled grains of sand
Fresh exotic local crab
Maybe one day lobster, one day
Bridlington Bridlington Bridlington
Giggles, tears and tantrums
Tempting prices - Tidy places
Lung-fulls of breezing energy
Relaxed, retiring, smart in lines and rows of happiness
Wishing for winter with its boldest storm
Cubbyhole-corners of locals huddle in good company
Bridlington Bridlington Bridlington
Busy walkway's hoards drift by unheeded
Wild abandon climbs inside the heart sometimes
Boats and cafes - Toys and cockles
A chance of something that is all the rage
Bridlington Bridlington Bridlington
Written by the people of Bridlington's harbour area in the company of Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
Bridlington is Brilliant
Busy harbour - Busy lively Bridlington
Let there always be trains here: Many many
It is like a change away from tourism
Even though it's always busy
Didn't think Brid would be much
Then I got here. I'll be back!
I'm relaxed all right - Even here among the crowds
Credit to you Bridlington
And all who are behind you
We get the feel there are many
Who are interested in her
Many here are interesting
Bridlington
You take every opportunity
To bring us seating
Welcoming, relaxing, glad of it
Busy as a port, a bustling harbour
Always something going off
Brilliant! I've always said
Bring 'em in Bridlington
With your cheap things
And unobtrusive care
Written by holiday makers in the company of Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
It's Bridlington!
They bring the fish in here
There are better seats here
Making changes for the better
I've always sat here in this suntrap
Crazy golf - Not too noisy
Peace and quiet wanted
More gardens as in years ago
I just like Bridlington
Clean and on the flat
No hills and all that n tuther
Never bustled, always busy
Remembering penny cornets; old money
Tanner pints - Threpence a can
This harbour it is natural
Glad to sit down
Glad it is here
Glad to be in Bridlington
Written by regular visitors in the company of Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
Nice Little Bridlington
Attractions disguised among other things
Natural normal clean
Nice little town
See boats all the time
Those rides make you giggle
Horses, quad bikes. Boing!
Best donuts: Most for a pound
Nicer than it used to be
Bit of allsorts here
I like pirates
Bobbing up and down
Might fall out, but I like it
Come early in the year - Quiet
Entertain us all year
Give us: Tinsel Turkey
Entertainment in the springtime
Far more theatre
Put on shows for us Bridlington
Boats! Boats! I want to have a go!
I used to have one - I love boats
Little café, cup of tea, fish and chips, very nice
Tell you what is nice, is ice cream
Takes you back to being young
Been coming all our lives. We enjoy it
Nice resort - treat it with a bit of respect
Written by holiday makers in the company of Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
Lovely To Be Here
Pretty welcoming shrubbery
The Parade - The Promenade
Makes you feel like walking
Feel good when you promenade relaxed
We walk, its lovely
Seagulls, boats, all this...
We are uplifted, impressed, free and easy
How do I feel? Lovely
Yes, when I am here I am,
Lovely
Written by a group of ladies in conversation with Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
Locals in the Harbour
Leave all this
The fishermen
The lobster pots
All this
If all this ever goes,
For me,
You could take Bridlington down
Written by Bridlington residents who enjoy the harbour area whilst in the company of Bridlington's Poet in Residence; Adrian Spendlow
A Couple Who Like Boats!
Boats! Going on a boat.
Bigger the better
Feel it sway
Some like it rough - 'I do'
Sway's OK, but always smooth
Steady steady
'No. Rough I say'
'Waves coming over'
'Getting wet'
'Rougher the better I say'
We like boats!
Written by a couple who are regular visitors to Bridlington whilst in the company of Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
Deep Sea Diving
It's rainy - We're cold - We're shivering
We feel like we are falling over
And getting blisters
Crowds watch us
We feel nervous and excited and happy
We have a diving suit
Really heavy with
Lead boots and brass helmet
All metal and black plastic:
It is brilliant!
The creaking of wire ropes and winch motors
We feel dizzy
At a terrifying speed
We are dropped into the sea
We are going down
As slow as a jellyfish
Feeling like a squashed tomato
Now deeper than anyone has ever been
We are moving bubbly
Like swimming through jelly
'Diver to ship,'
We say,
'We are at the bottom'
'Its all black'
It is dark, cold and unusual
There are lots of fish around us
We can see lots of fish
Ugly fish swimming sluggishly
Rolling at the bottom of the sea
Millions of them swim around us
Feels like pins and needles
We see a mini-watch-chain-fish
And a fish never seen before
It has fangs, has no body and
An enormous mouth!
Then something cute;
A small pink fish
With lacy fins
And big orange eyes
A huge fish;
It's a Spa-fish
With a domed head
Looking for its brother
Another fish -
With eyes like the moon
Then we discover a wreck
Like a skeleton
Of a large brown dinosaur;
Sad and forgotten
We swim inside
It's like being inside
A house full of cupboards!
And inside,
What do we find?
Teabags!
But
It's a giant sea monster
We say over the radio
A giant sea monster
We are going up
It's crushy, slimy, gaspy
We break the surface
Feeling relieved
The TV crews meet us, we say
'Its totally amazing
We're gonna be famous'
The crowds greet us,
'Welcome home
heroes of the deep!'
We say, 'Calm down
We are now going
To save some fishermen
Lost in the storm'
Written by families during Poetry Adventures with Bridlington's Poet in Residence, Adrian Spendlow
Pavarotti's
Bridlington's poet in residence
is suddenly in ecstasy
This restaurant is the essence of Bridlington
Dine here for a moment with me
Go eat Italian
Deep pink seabirds on a lilac ocean -
My company
How could we ever be lonely?
As we swim with the subtleness, richness
I am an anchovy
Roma Lampada
Frutti De Mare
This could be anywhere
Should be everywhere
Bridlington is blessed
With an exotic, most ample,
Sensualness
Dine here again? - Oh yes
Adrian Spendlow
The Viking Poem - This was written as an all action piece so, unless you want to act it all out yourself, try and imagine the sounds the hoard of lively children made!
We are King Turanus' Vikings
We laugh like fierce evil tigers
We move like fast running squirrels
And breathe like a lion
We scream like witches in thunder and lightening
And eat like chomping pigs,
gobbling greedily
We fight like the devil's soldiers
"Tough!"
We don't even care if we die!
This is our ship:
Storm-sailor!
These are our swords:
Fire-swinger!
Dragon-killer!
Giant-stabber!
Pirate-whacker
We are King Turanus' Vikings and we say:
"Hurray! They're dead!"
Written by children on Bridlington beach whilst taking part in Writer in Residence Adrian Spendlow's Poetry Adventures
All Twisty the Sea Serpent
Made of slimy scales
All green, orange, yellow
And black
Like the skin of a frog
And a black dog
and the yellow sun
It reminds us,
When it moves,
Of lines of gold coins
Long and curly
With a round body
Sort of snake like
We swim into its cave
We are wet but happy
A little scared
There is:
OhnnahebecBreeeownieldrewionadelle
In our language its called,
All Twisty
When it moves
It is bendy
Has Brownish / Bluish eyes,
Sneaky eyes
It looks at us
With just one eye
As if we look tasty
All Twisty's mouth
Is really big
Four huge fangs
Dripping with slaver
Long and fat,
It tongue catches fish
It cooks them
With its fiery breath
Its breath that smells of,
Rotten fish,
Strawberry jelly,
And just a hint of
Chocolate mouse!
All Twisty is as big as
Bridlington Beach
It is 194
That's old
It hasn't any hands
Has to use its tail
To hold its walking stick!
It gets up close to us
Very smelly
Like boiled sprouts
And old school dinners
It laughs,
Squeaky like a mouse
Creaky,
Like an old door
It speaks
Like Darth Vador
But higher pitched
And it says,
"CLEAN UP THIS CAVE
OR I WILL EAT YOU"
By Hannah, Rebecca, Daniel and Andrew, written whilst taking part in Adrian Spendlow's Poetry Adventures on the beach.
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