Tony's Poetry

Here are twelve of my poems which seem to have been the most liked over the years. There are over 130 poems in all, written between the ages of 16 to 62 – most I can’t bear to even read now because poetry is raw emotion innit, like? Hope you like them.


The lights were red
My mind said go
My legs led
The road slowed

I streamed my thoughts
They gave no clue
Flying high
Tied up too

Accelerating quickly
Without moving an inch
Feeling so silly
At a pinch

The white line grew
Into a wall
I stared aghast
I’m not that tall

Quickly I flew
The wall smiled
It would do
I’m toast

My white coffin was carried
By ladies in green
My bride never married
Didn’t seem bothered

The mourners in yellow
Were laughing aloud
A few could not bellow
Stuffing food

Some prayed for forgiveness
A few applauded my sins
The speeches were rubbish
Hadn’t learned a thing

The grass was green
The earth was brown
The box went down
Nowt more to be seen

(that was published in 1968 – revised 2015)

Never ending circles
Round, round and round
Raindrop touches the water
Without sound
Never ending circles
In a puddle
Round and round and
People born and murdered
Without being heard
Circles of life and death
Drop lightly, hold hard breath
Circles stop, whirlpool calm
Now to break free
Which way?
Never ending circles

uncle ron


Me Uncle Ron raced me Uncle Trev
From pillow to lamppost to field
To feed horses, then raced back
Before school

Me Uncle Ron and Uncle Trev
Saw hills of rubble
Next to their street
In Hull. Friends dead.

Me Uncle Ron measured the same
As Randolph Turpin and jabbed
And feinted and hooked and ducked
Day in and day out.

My Uncle Ron was sickly forever
Pound a round was good money then
Sick of boxing, sick of being hit
By a drunken Dad.

Me Uncle Ron fled to the medical corps
Jab, jab, faint, faint
Blood on canvas and death
Bucket loads

Me Uncle Ron met me at my house
He lived there with his sister, me Mum
Me Dad couldn’t breathe – sawdust and cigs
Dad kicked him out

Me Uncle Ron lived in the biggest block
Of flats that you’ve ever seen
He killed a man once with his fork lift truck
On the docks he was known for never drinking,
Never smoking and never having mates.
He was my hero.

Me Uncle Ron had skin like tissue paper
Every knock meant he bled and bled
One day he bled enough to fill his bath
He drank whisky that day.
He told me he would
In the crem there was me and Uncle Trev and
Uncle Ron in a box – no service or nothing.

Video of Tony Reading Me Uncle Ron

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This