Poetry Cliff Wedgebury

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE: Cliff Wedgebury

Cliff Wedgbury is a Cork based writer, born in London in 1946. His last collection was entitled, “A Lingering Adolescence,” published by Belfast/Lapwing in 2007. In the same year his poem “Revolutionary Newspapers,” was included in the anthology, “Che in Verse,” Aflame Books London to acknowledge the 40th Anniversary Of the death of Ernesto “Che” Guevara.

War Poet

“Let me take you back there!” He said. As I sat next to his wooden leg, In 1952. A six year old, With a toffee to chew, And a route march to the trenches, Thirty eight years before. Learning how to die, Under the cannon’s roar. Enduring mud as thunder-flashes burst, And ever since then, Scribbling painful verse, As he patiently awaited, His own approaching hearse.

(Cliff Wedgebury)

Detonations

Bomber Harris confiscated, Willie Adrian’s fags, Just before dinner break!

Clipped him around the ear, Scorned his sudden tear and, Marched towards the staff-room.

He flew Wellingtons over Berlin in 1944.

Now he opens the staff-room door, Sits in his favourite chair, Blows smoke rings into fetid air, Remembering detonations, Everywhere.

(Cliff Wedgebury)

Sunday Tea 1956

Sticks of celery on a Sunday evening, Fresh from the garden and wet from the sink, Dipped into small pyramids of salt. Dad poured the cider and winked! I drank the golden liquid thirstily. Ten years old and tipsy, At those childhood Sunday teas. Fresh fruit salad to come, As jokes and laughter rang, In a suburban dining room.

Then Nana went home to Woolwich, On the passing 99 bus, With a bulging bag of vegetables, And a loving wave from each of us.

Cliff Wedgbury