Brian Wake Poems
- Travelling Backwards At thirteen forty five our train begins ...
- Goethe's Clock Goethe’s clock is ticking in an empty ...
- Country Dancing There is nothing to be frightened of, she ...
- Rwanda 1994 He fills, with pink, polluted dregs, a yellow ...
- Kept Simple Eighty seven or eight years old, she was, quite...
- Paradise During the war, their breakfast, every morning on ...
- Adrift My father talks of being twenty days in an open boat....
Writer, publisher and promoter of poetry for many years.8 books of poetry published. Work broadcast and published internationally.
Organised poetry events and open mic sessions for Sefton Council in Merseyside. Readings have involved
most of the biggest names in contemporary poetry.
Most recent publication, 'Etcetera - new and selected poems.'
Read at poetry events and readings throughout the UK. more »
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Comments about Brian Wake
At thirteen forty five our train begins to move, and, late
to board, what seats remain face not toward but from.
I shuffle off and fold my overcoat and sit, do battle
with a newspaper to find a decent page and settle down
Behind me, music hisses from a faulty earphone. A child
describes the passing fields; a city child surprised by space
and countryside, surprised by, look mum, cows and sheep.
Across the aisle a blue-haired lady with an open book
is fast asleep.
From where I sit, my awkward view is of the places
we have travelled ...