Jack “Legs” Diamond

“Are you serious? ” Alice said

“Stone cold He’s dead”

Shot in the head

Whilst sat in bed.

 

He was a malevolent man

From evil clan

Drug run thriller

Gangland killer

 

Prohibition mafia man

Irish dance-man

Legs Diamond

The Clay pigeon.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

Playing with a new form- the minute for d’Verse. This is about Jack the legs Diamond, who was perhaps related to Lily and Fairground Fay.

He was a real gangster and his wife was Alice Kenny Diamond. The image is a prohibition image and is creative commons.

Back at you… determined not to be a martyr Lily took the law into her own hands….

I want to serve it back

With a wooden cricket bat

Just one great big thwack

 

Sends you reeling in the rain

I Paddle in your blood stain

“That’ll learn you” I feel no disdain

 

Bat in hand and now it is done

You are forever silenced and gone

Only vile memories of you linger on.

 

There is no post murder remorse

You broke me and ridiculed my flaws

No grief just justice in this final vengeful divorce.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

This was an accidental poem and I suspect Lily is a distant relative of Fairground Fay. However as I searched for a suitable image of Lily….I came across the beautiful Lillian Gish. She was movie star in the silent movie era, and although she never married, she did have several love affairs, one notorious one with a director called D W Griffith. There were some who declared the relationship to be “an ongoing psychodrama” but I have no real knowledge of this matter. Anyway I feel that Lillian Gish is the perfect image for my accidental revenge poem. Both images courtesy of wikimedia.

lillian_gish_3c04233u

Fancy Perfume and Twirling Ribbons

Poems can ring, rise upon sun and moon

or bring momentum to an errant flame.

Maybe it falls face first, mangled too soon

its sound wailing against the sting of rain.

 

Dawn will singe your senses, set them all free

perform song and acrobatic dances

cry out in celebration, yours to see

Rhymes scatter silently like forgotten fancies.

 

The wilderness rings bright with poetic voices

Sublime and reverent sounds echo through the trees

Words of wonderment and great rejoices

Poetic dreams elope on shifting breeze.

Ideas and thoughts float light as a feather

Our words will often weave them lovingly together.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

This is a shared piece of poetry in response to Jilly’s July Challenge.

Click here to read the details on how you can participate in Jilly’s July Challenge.

I didn’t manage the anagram bit…but I did complete the sonnet that was begun by colourfulpen.

Sorry I didn’t manage the anagram bit.

 

Familial traits, the signs we try to hide.

IMG_2047

God rest your soul

The sins of the father shall be forever imprinted on your weary brow

He filchered and fettled and frolicked in the sun

Leaving behind a string of homeless wives and penniless sons

These faults are incumbent on you and you will falter and fail

Unless you take heed of the signs and learn the lessons.

Give constancy care and compassion

Avoid adultery and count your blessings.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

For d’verse poetics, the challenge was sign.

 

 

Summer storm 1985

Across the raging Ocean

Hurtling home from France in a skittish Dufour

Bobbing in the ocean like a pea in a drum.

 

Drum lost her keel in Fastnet fright

We were stranded at sea off Selsey Bill

Limped into Shoreham late evening

Summer storm.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

A memorable sailing trip with my parents in August 1985, as a teenager, still not sure how we survived, the auto-pilot couldn’t hold our course it was a little bit rough to say the least. Dad’s little Dufour was 26ft….Simon Le Bon’s Drum was more like 78ft….

 

For Quadrille at d’Verse. Challenge STORM.

Sunset Silhouette

The sun goes down across the sound

The sky across the water shimmers

I see your footsteps in the sand

Your fading silhouette gets dimmer

In this moment my dreams abound

For fear of loss recedes and withers

My love for you is strong as hewn

From landscapes framed in moon.

 

Alison Jean Hankinson.

 

this was really hard, it was for d’Verse and we were challenged to write in a  form called Ottava Rima. This was beautiful Morecambe Bay Sands at sunset on Friday 26 May 2017.18664659_10212871462006798_1966529825697143023_n

Fear receding….

The transition to seaside life has been a total joy. However dark and difficult the long days of winter were with their obstacles barriers and uncertainties and the fears that we would somehow fail. There was always a small smattering of hope that things would eventually work out for the better. We have been able to rekindle our love for our own culture and connections, track back through pathways and places that were already part of our story and re-establish the significance of our own place in this wonderful landscape.

The move in springtime to Heysham has been a wonderful and welcome move into what promises to be a pleasant phase of our lives. The sea and scenery are endless sources of peace, calm and serenity. The joy to be able to walk and witness this place in all its beauty and glory for just a small part of each day is genuine food for the soul. There is a song by Groove Armada it is such a seaside song, it talks of sand-dunes and salty air and it is just the sentiment of this place, a seaside town resting on its laurels and trying to reinvent itself as the coastal jewel in the crown resting at the foothills of the Lake District. Mountains on the horizon, resplendent in a salmon sunset, windmills stretching out to sea as far as the eye can see,  ancient history carved into the headland and wilderness, wind and wavespray.

Mid tide Glasson Dock

In sprightly spring-time sunshine

Fear and dark thoughts ebb

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

This is my late offering for Haibun Monday and is about fear receding.

d”verse Haibun

 

oops just missed the link by 35 minutes…