GARETH CULSHAW - POEMS

​Gareth lives in North Wales, he has been published in various magazines and hopes to achieve something with the pen

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                            THE CLEANER

​
I was told he was gone by his son.
Remembering his frown, like a
ballast of railway line.
Firm as the cliff edge.
 
He was ex army. Bringing with him
discipline, strictness, a cliff face look.
When he came out he opened up a
cleaning business.
 
Wiping away the used breaths on glass,
brushing away the dead leaves,
sweeping away the lost voices,
hoovering up dead skin
 
removing nightmares of wars he had known.
 

                                   SHEPHERD STEPS
 
​
There was room and light as we made our up
and into. Skylight shine on the well mowed
grass. A ball fizzed across, a cannon shot.
 
Sheep stepped behind, with wrapped burger,
rolled programme in back pocket.
He was always ahead at this stage.
 
When things came to an end I dreaded the
squashed lung, fire drill rush.
The steps were miner tight, chamber leading
 
Where we all struggled to breath for air;
Each foot fall was hammer blow, no flow.
I just caught a glimpse of his hair as he
 
headed for the outer. My small limbs
shadowed by grown ups. Conveyor slow.
I wondered if this is what happens
 
at our own final whistle. The walking dead
heading for the next game. He often looked
back, led me with his eyes.
 
I followed as a sheep back then. I hated the
end, where I couldn't cope with him down there
somewhere. While I ached to catch up.
 
But now it is the other way. As he whistle
blows with each breath. But I walk slow
just so he knows I am not too far gone.
 

 
                               CWM PENNANT
  
​
I hear you whisper in the last of light
as I slip back to the unknown dark.
You are a place I have been before
when new light broke the skin on my eyes.
 
I hear you whisper in the last of  light
as I slip back to the unknown dark.
 
I feel you in the distance when coming by
aching to place adult foot on your land.
I was pulled out of you years ago
screaming until you held me safe.
 
I hear you whisper in the last of  light
as I slip back to the unknown dark.
 
My heart aches to live in you again,
swim warmly in your bluebell sea.
I once suckled on your fresh mountain top
giving me strength to walk, walk away.
 
But I long to sit again, press my hand
on your breast. Feel the heartbeat that
chimed for every minute I grew.
 
I hear you whisper in the last of  light
as I slip back to the unknown dark.
 
Wishing to walk back to the womb of life
and the warm sea of mother blue.
 

                           AMENITY SITE
  
​
The clunk and clank of skips, squashed dust
puffed up into the air by the dead weight drop,
coffin heavy. where things will wait until the
 
next time. the stale smell lingering in the fabrics
of workers. they give you that zombie stare, as
if their own life has been thrown away too.
 
crushed cans, rolling bottles, fridges sitting
silent, like old people in a home. crinkled carpet
of yesterdays steps.  a heave and swing of
 
a container, yellow vested men watching
in lighthouse stance. a shrug of the contents