Alistair Graham

Alistair Graham Poems

That of God in every man, can you see it?
Pull back the yellow stained curtains;
chisel out the crusted mess from your eyes


Yesterday rain tumbled down on Belfast,
by mid evening the house brick was damp-dark,

I put my neck
on the line for you

You put your lingerie

If Titanic skin
was our skin
the question
I’m asking

If intending to ride in my cab
Be so kind and do not make me sad
No eating or drinking
No stuff that is stinking

I hear them
Upstairs in my head
Moving stuff around

To continue as I am will surely add
to the column inches in the Belfast Telegraph

Look with your eyes at the clock
Hear with your ears the tick-tock
Think of the time
Not of the rhyme

If during the evening your mood
Dramatically changes you should
Consider your company
Abandon it bluntly

Have you ever thought how you vote
By colour of flag therefore coat
Or simply religion
I pity your children

I flick through
a carpet pile
of envelopes, bills
paper, poetry


All right jack
what’s the crack

Where to bloody hell are ya?
I wouldn’t rake ya
Fetch the eggs
from the backside of the hen

I heard a hell of a knock on the door
I lifted my head, I heard it once more
A dreadful noise, a please let me in knock
A for heaven's sake, don't leave me here knock


If life was as simple
I would climb on
My bicycle,

Alan in a spill
in Lavery’s
after performance
poetry in golden thread; red

The bedside table is straining
Under books that sit remaining
To be written or read
All before he is dead

It’s the same old story
with a modern twist;
people crunched
in a credit contraption

Alistair Graham Biography

Poet and short story writer. Lives in Belfast. This is a small sample of early poetry from two published books. Please tap the Facebook like button on any poem to share or the option to email to a friend. Thank you. Acknowledgements: Thanks to the editors of the following journals and anthologies where some of my poems and short stories have been published. A New Belfast Poetry Map, A New Ulster, Boyne Berries, Crannog, Open Mouse, Shift Magazine, The Incubator, THE SHOp, the Desmond O'Grady Poetry Competition and the Poetry Institute of the British Isles. the Golden Thread Gallery, Belfast. The Irish Writers Centre in Dublin and No Alibis book store in Belfast for hosting my book launch. Huge gratitude to my publisher, Lapwing Publications, Belfast. War and Want, Lapwing Publications,2011 Streets of Belfast, Lapwing Publications,2012)

The Best Poem Of Alistair Graham

Black Death

That of God in every man, can you see it?
Pull back the yellow stained curtains;
chisel out the crusted mess from your eyes

collect the stinking garments, bring them to the fire
scramble over the self-erected barricades
begin the journey to the land that bears fruit

The scales and blinkers will spring away
and down, like giant hale stones descending
onto a drum, stretched with lambskin.

Skin, bloodied and scarred by searing juices on lit coals -
a sour breath from mouths sucking on vinegar sponges -
a congregation of Protestant and Catholic Northern Irish

On gallant white horses, they charge one another
heads on shrugged shoulders ideologically colliding
the great plague of lost limbs, eyeballs and spilled innards

A black death worse than filthy rats,
served up with a drum roll on silver plates
as superior tradition and heritage

Poisonous religious gas, pumped into the chambers
of corrugated peace walls for the other side to breathe
they celebrate the massacre of others in defence of their own

Unfinished business, that of God in every man!
Poke religious teachers for the truth
pinch yourself to knowledge

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