C Richard Miles (1961)
Biography of C Richard Miles
Brought up in the rustic backwoods of the Yorkshire Dales, I have been exiled, through self-infliction, in the metropolis of London for over half my life, living near the notorious Murder Mile.
I started writing poetry at the somewhat advanced age of 46 (Jan 2008 - to be precise) but have caught the bug, the above locations providing some inspiration for some of my poems, which number over 1200 at the last count, not all of which are posted here (or indeed are suitable!)
There seem to be at least five or six different poets working inside me, so don't expect to see the same style or theme every time - My poems range from the traditionalist sonnets and strict metrical forms, through the rural, bucolic scenes of the Northern Countryside, past the reflective, nostalgic memories of childhood, to sardonic comment on today's modern lifestyle, slightly humorous nonsense verse and, finally, attempts at more contemporary poetry. Much of my early poetry is of the old-fashioned, rhyming variety, however - I'm a curmudgeonly stick-in the mud although there have been attempts to jazz up my style a little more recently.
Since summer 2008 I have been bold enough (foolish enough? arrogant enough?) to foist myself on the fringes of the London Performance poetry scene. This has had an effect on my poetry and new styles are creeping in - I seem to have acquired a liking for scattergun rants or mock-Gilbertian patter-song rollercoasters of poems.
Less than recent visitors to my poems may notice I have added my first initial to my name - there appear to be at least two established poets with whom I share my name; I would not wish on them the embarrassment of misattribution of one of my petty scribbles!
- (((The Writer's Dilemma - To Be Read Fir...
- ((The Mystery Of Poetry - Also An Introd...
- 5 pm on the 56
- A Breath Behind The Man Ahead
- A Bus Commuter’s Moan
- A Cry For Burma (Written After The Cyclo...
- A Dot
- A Faithful Friend
- A Few Short Musings On Poets
- A Frayed Knot – a haiku
- A Grand Morning
- A Grey, Grey Day Down Whitechapel Way
- A month to Christmas
- A Pair Of Petits Pois
Deep Water Epithalamium
Idling, in the un-plumbed depths,
The gargantuan leviathan slumbers,
Every silver-finned dweller of the deep
Thrills, in uncountable numbers,
In restless, breathless anticipation
For the proximate, long-told approaching
That is the festive, nuptial union
Of the King and Queen of the Ocean.