Archive for February, 2013


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , on February 28, 2013 by belfastdavid

“Did you know” he said
“that each sea
has a different heartbeat.”

And suddenly
some of the pieces
which make up
the jigsaw
of my life
fell into place.

From Portrush Strand
by the White Rocks
on the northern coast of Ireland
where the Atlantic arrives
in long rolling waves
with a heartbeat that is steady,
regular and oh so powerful.

To Cultra village
on the east coast
where the Irish Sea
has a more staccato beat;
shorter waves which can
manifest on the shore in ripples.

To Whitby
on the east coast of England
where the North Sea
seems to swirl
to an intermittent rhythm,
sometimes short,
sometimes long
but with an emphasis
on every seventh beat.

These are the places that I go
when I have a need
to ease my soul;
let my heartbeat
mirror that
of the ocean,
restore to me
a sense of purpose
and of calm.

The quote at the beginning of this poem is from my friend David Tait.
It is the first stanza of a sequence of poems he wrote with the overall title ‘Heartbeat’.
(he knows I have used it, but not yet that I have pinched his title as well :))

He read his poems at the Heart Cafe last night.
Which will be his last public poetry reading before he moves next month to live and work in China.
I wish him well with that but I shall miss him.

So in a lot of ways I am delighted that his final reading should inspire me to write a poem.
It will help keep him warm in my memory whilst he is away



To Die for (Repost)

Posted in Poetry with tags , on February 12, 2013 by belfastdavid

As the theme this month so far seems to be Whitby Beach Huts I thought I would repost this poem.
After all the the poem is centred in a restaurant which, when it existed, was down there among the beach huts.


To Die For

To die for, the waitress said
when I asked about
the bread and butter pudding.

We sat beside a window
in an Art Deco restaurant
looked out across the promenade,
waves getting ever closer,

walked back to an apartment
we had rented in a house
once occupied by Bram Stoker,
Sandsend visible from one window,
the Abbey from another.

When I visit now
the restaurant is gone,
its survival never more likely
than that of our relationship.

I sit upon the sand,
out of reach of breaking waves.
To die for, the waitress says.

Whitby Beach Huts by David Tait

Posted in Poetry with tags , , on February 6, 2013 by belfastdavid

My friend David Tait was so taken with my painting of Whitby Beach Huts  (my previous post) that it inspired him to write a poem.

In his words  –  “your picture made me write this poem”

I have his permission to post his poem on here

I feel privileged for he is a wonderfully talented poet as well as a good friend



Whitby Beach Huts
for David Agnew

I think of them mostly as monuments to joy
seen from the beach at low tide.

The last time I saw them was the happiest time.
I wrapped my arms around the whale bone arch

and Jay took pictures of the sky.
How lucky are we, to spend our moments

stuffed with sunshine and dressed crab.
And what am I except a wave flung out to sea

ceaselessly scuffing these shores.

David Tait