jingling in france - proyart

jingling in france - amiens - twinned with durham

jingling in france - halluin - twinned with north tyneside

jingling in france - ivry sur seine - twinned with wear valley

armstrong at delphi

dangerous to be sober in groningen

dangerous
to be sober in groningen
too many sissy-boys
on the loose
city poets
sweeping the streets
for verse
girls sticking their fingers
in my irish coffee
blobs of cream
on their lips

dangerous
to be sober in hotel de doelen
too much history
in the bathrooms
nazi tanks
rolling over it
or worse
supporters of f.c. groningen
in my face
teeth rattling with chants
from young throats

dangerous
to be sober in groningen
too many doors revolving
in my eyes
undergound activists
digging up euros
for liquorice suppers
rights campaigners
stinking of fish
yesterday’s papers
under their feet

dangerous
to be sober in groningen
too much to lose
too many egos
in the wind
guitarists shouting off
their helpless lyrics
whores
in the red windows
showing me their wares
when i’m drunk

dangerous
to be sober in groningen
too much sleet
up your nose
pancake ships
sinking at night
in a sea of black moths
short skirts
troubling my fantasies
bottles in my mouth
and thirsty heart

dangerous
to be sober in groningen
too many clocks looking down
on my words
the infernal ticking
of lost days
down the drain
the rain slashing
the cobbles of time
outliving my skin
and drenched soul

dangerous
to be sober in groningen
too much warmth
in cafe marleen
the beckoning stools
of intoxicated moments
swirling by
the chatter of pigeons
gobbling up seconds
nibbling in my head
and my hungover poems

dangerous
to be sober in groningen

dangerous
to be sober in groningen




KEITH ARMSTRONG

orocco pier, south queensferry

armstrong's favourite belfast bars

back in town!

'DAZZLER'

(in honour of Robert ‘Bobby’ Carmichael Mitchell, 19/7/1924- 8/4/1993)


Mine Host
of the twinkling left foot,
wing-raiding Scot,
this Border Reiver
was a man of magic,
made full backs disappear.
‘Dazzler’ we called him,
he tied the ball to his toes,
took it for a walk.
Wor Bobby bobbing along,
criss-crossing
patterns
through flat defences.
His waving hair
streaked
under the waves
of ‘Popular Side’ crowds:
classic moments
flickering on film,
roars on a soundtrack,
Cup goals laid
on a plate.




KEITH ARMSTRONG

FOR KEITH

'You’ll right yourself,
find a bare dignity
among the beaten and oppressed,
and go on dressed in lessons learnt
with a wicked smile for the wicked world.’


(Bruce Barnes)

LEN IN BLACK AND WHITE

(in memory of Len White, 23/3/1930-17/6/1994)


Len White
was a hammer.
He rammed in goals
like rivets into a ship.
Len in black and white,
belter of a heavy ball,
whacker of leather bullets
with crafty head and clever feet.
Me and my old schoolmate Peter
saw you lash the Wolves,
sending a screamer
through the posts
to ignite Gallowgate
and set the Magpies chanting.
Uncapped hat-trick scorer,
153 goals merchant,
you deserve
a statue
of your own,
dedicated
to the Skellow lad
who became a Geordie
and will always be.





KEITH ARMSTRONG