mouthporn.net
#canal – @ukdamo on Tumblr
Avatar

Damian: posts feature the pen and the pixel

@ukdamo / ukdamo.tumblr.com

Gay guy in England's north west. Retired Forensic Learning Disability nurse. Travel: Photography: Music: Literature
Avatar

Canal Life

Ian McMillan

The canal tells you stories The canal sings you songs They hang in that space Between memory and water

Once saw a narrowboat raised up, Like it was cutting through the air, Between two grass walls and the road below Like it was sliding through history, And a tiny vole swam across the water So a tiny vole swam through history.

The canal tells you stories The canal sings you songs

Once saw a man floating belly up in a canal Like he was in the bath. He shouted ‘This is the life’ as I passed by on a narrowboat; The sky was reflected in the surface And we tied up in the places the map never showed us, The man floating by, making ripples on the surface.

They hang in that space Between memory and water

Once got waved at by a jogger as I stood gongoozling On the towpath; her running gave rhythm To the early afternoon, dog-strollers and kids Who’d rather be here than sitting in school. To gongoozle is to stand and watch narrowboats pass And a canal is a lesson, a water-based school.

The canal tells you stories The canal sings you songs

Once these canals were information highways If coal and iron can be information, And I think they can be. And there are bridges, Pub gardens, the laughter of children As they walk by the water; and the canals Turn us all into curious children.

They hang in that space Between memory and water

Once is never enough for a canal, I reckon; You need to go back and see it again, And sail it again, and smell it again, and Touch it again; canals run through our veins Like they stroll through this country Like blood through our veins.

The canal tells you stories The canal sings you songs They hang in that space Between memory and water

Avatar

I love a little narrowboat

Pam Ayres - a comedic poet with a light and familiar touch

I love a little narrowboat, I love the old canal, Imagining the tales these ancient waterways could tell, I love to work the lock, those oaken gates so firm and strong, With know-alls up above to tell you what you're doing wrong. I love to see the native creatures busy at the bank, The otter and the water vole, the terrapin and mink, And peering in the water, into shallows green and still, To see somebody's goldfish from the kitchen window-sill. I love to moor along the bank and hear the gentle rain, To cook a meal and watch the world beyond the window-pane, Little bobbing moorhen chicks, the mallard and the coot, Exhausted lovers hoping that their effort's bearing fruit. I love the ancient bridges, every keystone, every corbel, The singing of the little birds, the chirrup and the warble, To feed a lonely swan, so perfect, white as alabaster, Who struck me with his wing; observe my collar-bone in plaster. I love to meet the other folk who use the waterways, The walkers and the fishermen on sunny languid days, We drift beside the towpath and we breathe the summer's breath, Till roaring motor-bikers come and frighten us to death. I love the inland waterways and if it's in my power, I'll just keep on a-sailing at about three miles an hour, And when I see that final tunnel, into it I'll glide, I'll raise my yachting cap and see you on the other side.

Avatar

Above the Stink of the Green

Anna Thomas

Looped to the concrete bank With the rag doll hair Ritualistically yawning Flopped and smoking on the bow of his Betty-Anne An avocado hippopotamus Ripples slightly, below them

He thud-pats the bow of his Betty-Anne As they sit and puff greened smoke together Rocking, they reminisce over how They got mooring hitched last summer

You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.
mouthporn.net