Poems For The Many
@poems-for-the-many.bsky.social
I write rhyming stanzas, free and blank verse, lyrics and songs. Selection of poetry ‘Fielding Memories, Poems and Other Recalls’ published 2024. See Poems For The Many on Facebook for full versions of my poems. Songs are at paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com.
Driving home for Christmas
I heard the mainstream news,
passing by the shadows of
The Cleveland hills.
Chris Rea died that morning
the hills lined up like mourners
where Chris Rea used to drive
when he wrote that Christmas song.
No red lights in the distance
now that Chris is gone.
I heard the mainstream news,
passing by the shadows of
The Cleveland hills.
Chris Rea died that morning
the hills lined up like mourners
where Chris Rea used to drive
when he wrote that Christmas song.
No red lights in the distance
now that Chris is gone.
December 24, 2025 at 10:27 PM
Driving home for Christmas
I heard the mainstream news,
passing by the shadows of
The Cleveland hills.
Chris Rea died that morning
the hills lined up like mourners
where Chris Rea used to drive
when he wrote that Christmas song.
No red lights in the distance
now that Chris is gone.
I heard the mainstream news,
passing by the shadows of
The Cleveland hills.
Chris Rea died that morning
the hills lined up like mourners
where Chris Rea used to drive
when he wrote that Christmas song.
No red lights in the distance
now that Chris is gone.
Come to Barnes village by the pond in West London where I’ll be doing a 45 minute performance of my songs from two albums I have released at
paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com it’ll be outside the theatre. Deckchairs available for the audience. Saturday June 14th at 1 pm.
paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com it’ll be outside the theatre. Deckchairs available for the audience. Saturday June 14th at 1 pm.
June 11, 2025 at 11:03 PM
Come to Barnes village by the pond in West London where I’ll be doing a 45 minute performance of my songs from two albums I have released at
paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com it’ll be outside the theatre. Deckchairs available for the audience. Saturday June 14th at 1 pm.
paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com it’ll be outside the theatre. Deckchairs available for the audience. Saturday June 14th at 1 pm.
(c) 2025 poem and video Poems for the Many Paul Gerard Dalton
May 20, 2025 at 10:11 AM
(c) 2025 poem and video Poems for the Many Paul Gerard Dalton
May 1, 2025 at 10:50 AM
Bluebells
The sound of shouts in the forest
the smell of wood smoke curling
the sight of bluebells spreading in among the trees
There's an urgent bugle calling from the far side of the stream
The sound of shouts in the forest
the smell of wood smoke curling
the sight of bluebells spreading in among the trees
There's an urgent bugle calling from the far side of the stream
April 12, 2025 at 9:29 AM
Bluebells
The sound of shouts in the forest
the smell of wood smoke curling
the sight of bluebells spreading in among the trees
There's an urgent bugle calling from the far side of the stream
The sound of shouts in the forest
the smell of wood smoke curling
the sight of bluebells spreading in among the trees
There's an urgent bugle calling from the far side of the stream
Mind the gap between thought and action
whilst stepping from belief.
Minds rove like nosing cats through others gardens.
Rivers of thought meander through meadows,
then race like tumbling water white with fear.
Thinking is boundless, belief specific, action definite.
whilst stepping from belief.
Minds rove like nosing cats through others gardens.
Rivers of thought meander through meadows,
then race like tumbling water white with fear.
Thinking is boundless, belief specific, action definite.
April 5, 2025 at 8:16 AM
Mind the gap between thought and action
whilst stepping from belief.
Minds rove like nosing cats through others gardens.
Rivers of thought meander through meadows,
then race like tumbling water white with fear.
Thinking is boundless, belief specific, action definite.
whilst stepping from belief.
Minds rove like nosing cats through others gardens.
Rivers of thought meander through meadows,
then race like tumbling water white with fear.
Thinking is boundless, belief specific, action definite.
Waiting For The Clocks To Go Forward
The sun goes behind the house
declining on nearby gardens,
hand in hand with shadow.
It reminds him once
when he was an alter boy
whispering abracadabra
snuffing a candelabra,
and the pulling in of night
like folding bed sheets from a line.
The sun goes behind the house
declining on nearby gardens,
hand in hand with shadow.
It reminds him once
when he was an alter boy
whispering abracadabra
snuffing a candelabra,
and the pulling in of night
like folding bed sheets from a line.
March 30, 2025 at 10:08 AM
Waiting For The Clocks To Go Forward
The sun goes behind the house
declining on nearby gardens,
hand in hand with shadow.
It reminds him once
when he was an alter boy
whispering abracadabra
snuffing a candelabra,
and the pulling in of night
like folding bed sheets from a line.
The sun goes behind the house
declining on nearby gardens,
hand in hand with shadow.
It reminds him once
when he was an alter boy
whispering abracadabra
snuffing a candelabra,
and the pulling in of night
like folding bed sheets from a line.
Times They Still Need Changin
The songs have been sung
the protests go on
and they are still there.
We’ve not overcome.
Officials are bought
injustice walks proud.
Privilege stalks with
It’s head in the clouds.
Journalists write
what billionaires want.
To hell with the truth
and on with the cant.
The songs have been sung
the protests go on
and they are still there.
We’ve not overcome.
Officials are bought
injustice walks proud.
Privilege stalks with
It’s head in the clouds.
Journalists write
what billionaires want.
To hell with the truth
and on with the cant.
March 25, 2025 at 7:58 PM
Times They Still Need Changin
The songs have been sung
the protests go on
and they are still there.
We’ve not overcome.
Officials are bought
injustice walks proud.
Privilege stalks with
It’s head in the clouds.
Journalists write
what billionaires want.
To hell with the truth
and on with the cant.
The songs have been sung
the protests go on
and they are still there.
We’ve not overcome.
Officials are bought
injustice walks proud.
Privilege stalks with
It’s head in the clouds.
Journalists write
what billionaires want.
To hell with the truth
and on with the cant.
Here is the second part of my lyric, The Beaten Path a track from my album The Tales Of Grimmer Pardon at paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com
March 20, 2025 at 10:14 PM
Here is the second part of my lyric, The Beaten Path a track from my album The Tales Of Grimmer Pardon at paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com
The lyric here is from a song on my album ‘The Tales Of Grimmer Pardon’ at paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com I’ll post the second part tomorrow. There are lots more of my songs you can sample via the link above. Happy listening.
March 19, 2025 at 5:08 PM
The lyric here is from a song on my album ‘The Tales Of Grimmer Pardon’ at paulgerarddalton.bandcamp.com I’ll post the second part tomorrow. There are lots more of my songs you can sample via the link above. Happy listening.
Poets and musicians are at the end of the queue when the proceeds from their work is divided up.
March 18, 2025 at 8:48 AM
Poets and musicians are at the end of the queue when the proceeds from their work is divided up.
A Happy St Patrick’s Day.
March 17, 2025 at 1:56 PM
A Happy St Patrick’s Day.
Wordle 1,364 2/6
🟨⬛⬛🟨⬛
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
I got lucky this evening
with a flash of genius.
🟨⬛⬛🟨⬛
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
I got lucky this evening
with a flash of genius.
March 14, 2025 at 11:05 PM
Wordle 1,364 2/6
🟨⬛⬛🟨⬛
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
I got lucky this evening
with a flash of genius.
🟨⬛⬛🟨⬛
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
I got lucky this evening
with a flash of genius.
On The Closing Of Pubs
Rain sounds on my roof
like far away conversation.
I can’t get a word in edge ways,
the thinnest slice of a syllable
to substitute for a slate.
In the pattering sound of voices
like opening tissued presents
I’m the one forgotten,
as a mother brooding
on her children.
Rain sounds on my roof
like far away conversation.
I can’t get a word in edge ways,
the thinnest slice of a syllable
to substitute for a slate.
In the pattering sound of voices
like opening tissued presents
I’m the one forgotten,
as a mother brooding
on her children.
February 28, 2025 at 5:10 PM
On The Closing Of Pubs
Rain sounds on my roof
like far away conversation.
I can’t get a word in edge ways,
the thinnest slice of a syllable
to substitute for a slate.
In the pattering sound of voices
like opening tissued presents
I’m the one forgotten,
as a mother brooding
on her children.
Rain sounds on my roof
like far away conversation.
I can’t get a word in edge ways,
the thinnest slice of a syllable
to substitute for a slate.
In the pattering sound of voices
like opening tissued presents
I’m the one forgotten,
as a mother brooding
on her children.
In winter weather
when the flowers barely
stick their noses through
the door of the earth
you can at least hold
a sunbeam in your hand
with the promise of more
payment like gold coins
in your palm.
(c) words PFTM Paul Gerard Dalton Photo MB Casey.
when the flowers barely
stick their noses through
the door of the earth
you can at least hold
a sunbeam in your hand
with the promise of more
payment like gold coins
in your palm.
(c) words PFTM Paul Gerard Dalton Photo MB Casey.
February 26, 2025 at 8:58 AM
In winter weather
when the flowers barely
stick their noses through
the door of the earth
you can at least hold
a sunbeam in your hand
with the promise of more
payment like gold coins
in your palm.
(c) words PFTM Paul Gerard Dalton Photo MB Casey.
when the flowers barely
stick their noses through
the door of the earth
you can at least hold
a sunbeam in your hand
with the promise of more
payment like gold coins
in your palm.
(c) words PFTM Paul Gerard Dalton Photo MB Casey.
I don’t want to alarm you
but the planets are aligning
something’s going to happen -
marshalled for an attack on earth maybe. We have to get ready. Strike first I say and we’ll deal with consequences later.
Doubt me? It’s in the stars
or the tea leaves in your cup.
but the planets are aligning
something’s going to happen -
marshalled for an attack on earth maybe. We have to get ready. Strike first I say and we’ll deal with consequences later.
Doubt me? It’s in the stars
or the tea leaves in your cup.
February 25, 2025 at 9:29 AM
I don’t want to alarm you
but the planets are aligning
something’s going to happen -
marshalled for an attack on earth maybe. We have to get ready. Strike first I say and we’ll deal with consequences later.
Doubt me? It’s in the stars
or the tea leaves in your cup.
but the planets are aligning
something’s going to happen -
marshalled for an attack on earth maybe. We have to get ready. Strike first I say and we’ll deal with consequences later.
Doubt me? It’s in the stars
or the tea leaves in your cup.
Just One Sonetto
It’s raining again
So much water on
a Monday morning
Gutters gathering pools
Drains strain at the deluge
Pavements slick with slime
Splashing traffic on the Highway
Flowers flinch at flicks of water
The dismal drip of splattering
Commuters wishing to be
somewhere else
It’s raining again
So much water on
a Monday morning
Gutters gathering pools
Drains strain at the deluge
Pavements slick with slime
Splashing traffic on the Highway
Flowers flinch at flicks of water
The dismal drip of splattering
Commuters wishing to be
somewhere else
February 24, 2025 at 9:28 AM
Just One Sonetto
It’s raining again
So much water on
a Monday morning
Gutters gathering pools
Drains strain at the deluge
Pavements slick with slime
Splashing traffic on the Highway
Flowers flinch at flicks of water
The dismal drip of splattering
Commuters wishing to be
somewhere else
It’s raining again
So much water on
a Monday morning
Gutters gathering pools
Drains strain at the deluge
Pavements slick with slime
Splashing traffic on the Highway
Flowers flinch at flicks of water
The dismal drip of splattering
Commuters wishing to be
somewhere else
Scared To Laugh
I walk the edge of freedom hoping
not to fall into the pit of disdain.
All my investments are in weapons.
My pension keeper invests in weapons
that some day will be used against me.
How crazy is that ?
I walk the edge of freedom hoping
not to fall into the pit of disdain.
All my investments are in weapons.
My pension keeper invests in weapons
that some day will be used against me.
How crazy is that ?
February 23, 2025 at 7:24 AM
Scared To Laugh
I walk the edge of freedom hoping
not to fall into the pit of disdain.
All my investments are in weapons.
My pension keeper invests in weapons
that some day will be used against me.
How crazy is that ?
I walk the edge of freedom hoping
not to fall into the pit of disdain.
All my investments are in weapons.
My pension keeper invests in weapons
that some day will be used against me.
How crazy is that ?
I use metaphor, simile
And sometimes rhyme
But only dimly
It takes too much time.
Thoughts speed quicker
than thinking of similar sounds
I don’t like to bicker
But prefer free verse.
Rhyme can be the curse
of the alphabet
when you can’t think of one
and you get to zed.
And sometimes rhyme
But only dimly
It takes too much time.
Thoughts speed quicker
than thinking of similar sounds
I don’t like to bicker
But prefer free verse.
Rhyme can be the curse
of the alphabet
when you can’t think of one
and you get to zed.
February 21, 2025 at 9:23 AM
I use metaphor, simile
And sometimes rhyme
But only dimly
It takes too much time.
Thoughts speed quicker
than thinking of similar sounds
I don’t like to bicker
But prefer free verse.
Rhyme can be the curse
of the alphabet
when you can’t think of one
and you get to zed.
And sometimes rhyme
But only dimly
It takes too much time.
Thoughts speed quicker
than thinking of similar sounds
I don’t like to bicker
But prefer free verse.
Rhyme can be the curse
of the alphabet
when you can’t think of one
and you get to zed.
