Tony Noon

Tony Noon Poems

The cities are cooling;

debuilding themselves
...

We are post social here.


The music has lost but
...

This grey morning smells
of oranges and wet paper.

Bigging up the dawn chorus
...

Not knowing, is the way to touch a star.
Small and half empty you can believe
that across the field and up the hill
you could hold that white light
...

I see the sunny days.
The sober managers of building societies,
banks, maybe. Button bright
in their certain trajectories
...

Wanting to escape is important, of course.


Surprising how many overlook this point.
...

He was playing a Joplin Rag.
Playing the first few bars
over and over.
As if he couldn't move on.
...

As usual it begins with death.

Cops tearing around quiet corners
in hot pursuit of themselves.
...

9.

By the time you read this I will be miles away.
Not miles. That doesn't do justice.
I will be an immensity away. Let me explain.
...

Rake them. Riddle sticks
through cooling embers.
Beds and books burnt
to blackened crisps.
...

11.

Somewhere on your dusty road
you crossed over;
left Woodstock for The Twilight Zone
to roll up and smoke into our late
...

Light Holes.
Our galaxies of being swirl
and swing around them
like moths, sucked in
...

Plato would have got it.
How whole lives can be lived
inside four walls while shadows
dance uncontrollably outside.
...

14.

There is no science to follow here.

There is just observation.
Eyelines free to roam, to ponder
...

If you could see these lines
in three dimensions
you would see the space
between thoughts composed
...

Those clanks and moans;
pure theatre for les autres.
Without the chains we are
listless. Creatures of air.
...

There is sound here but no light.
Words mimicked with skill
are their own purpose
repeated rhythmically to browsers.
...

I am watching the pigeons
brawling on brash cobbles,
dismantling crumbs from
take away food fallen from
...

The cat was lifeless by the road.

It's essence was left in mid air
when it's trajectory was intercepted.
...

Mister E, Master of Allusion.
His meaning hid in full view.
His references were out of sight
till the force was directly behind you.
...

Tony Noon Biography

Lives in Mexborough, South Yorkshire. Poems have appeared widely in magazines and anthologies, notably Acumen and Envoi, and in local and national press. A former Bridport prize winner, Noon has a growing digital audience on platforms including Poem Hunter, AllPoetry, Scriggler, The Blue Hour and The Camel Saloon.)

The Best Poem Of Tony Noon

New England In The Fall

The cities are cooling;

debuilding themselves

as the year ripens.

Soon there will be

no towers,

no reliable terraces

cluttered with chat.


Soon there will be

no love

lost in scrap metal valleys;

no room at boarded inns.

Mirrors will be darkened

or destroyed and the ashes

of brown furniture will be

scattered at boot fairs.


Already, where pie crust

promises fell to earth,

rewritten lines have

broken through.

Cajoling us to start again from here.



Tony Noon

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