Wait Until Spring Poems by Bradford Middleton

A RETURN TO THE ARMS OF LOVE

I sit here at last, 
At long fucking last, 
Free as a bird just like the Skynyrd used to sing about
At last free from the distraction of work
Or survival in a town where I very nearly
Gave up all hope.

Today, however, I sit here
In a place that one day, a very long time
From now I hope, will be home
And yet it already does as the
Stress and horror of my other life
Is finally eviscerated as I return to 
These blessed Arms of Love


GLAD TO BE ALIVE!

With a few months away,
Stuck working on the fiction 
As I got used to my new job,
It feels good, no, scratch that
This feels fucking great to
Even just sit here & write this
Poem for no one but me
Just to say 10 new poems
In the last 8 days shows I
Still got it & man alive I
Feel this could be 
The dawning of a new day
When I just got to feel glad
To be alive!


WAIT UNTIL SPRING

As the nights come to close later with every passing
Setting of the sun you’ll see the expressions of the down & 
Out and those not much removed from the pavement change
As the realisation that spring is on its way and will
Soon be here to captivate all but provide, for us down
Here at least, a brief respite from another night spent on a
Mattress in an ice-box of a room or for those poor souls 
Who call the street their home.

 


BIOGRAPHY

 
Bradford Middleton still lives in Brighton on England’s south-coast where he works part-time in a shop and full-time on his words. His latest book, The Whiskey Stings Good Tonight, was recently published by the Alien Buddha Press. Recent poems have appeared in Cajun Mutt Press, Cacti Fur, Fixator Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, Rye Whiskey Review and the glorious Mad Swirl. He tweets occasionally @BradfordMiddle5.

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A STAND-OFF BETWEEN MAN & BEAST, I’M DOWN & TWENTY MINUTES OF GLORY. 3 Poems by Bradford Middleton

 

A STAND-OFF BETWEEN MAN & BEAST 

The pigeons sit, resting on the wall of
A rich old bird who owns one of the muse
Houses I back onto, and somehow I grow
Transfixed, this weed is really good I
Suddenly think, as I stand staring at them
As if they’re new friends, wondering aloud
Which one will go away first.  Which will
Dessert me first, like so many others in
This sorry excuse for a life, I think as one
Moves back down the roof and out of
Sight as another turns their back to me but
The other two remain, steadfast and strong,
Staring right back at me and this stand-off
Goes on for a while, I’m maybe even more
Stoned than I think, and sure enough it’s me
Who grows bored first and, as seems to be
The way of this and so many other days, I know
It’s time for another smoke, another distraction.

I’M DOWN

These words came and whispered
Sweet nothings in my ear & I knew
My muse had returned.

A month, a long
Long, awful long
Month since I last sat down &
Laid the words on down
But now, at last, I’m down
Down enough to know
I’ve got to get this down
Before I fall any further.

TWENTY MINUTES OF GLORY

The street of ill-repute has struck again
Bringing me a diamond in the rough.  I
Was walking home, just now, from the
Laundry centre, nothing really spectacular
To report there, just another of those typical
Monthly rituals, when as I walk on heaving
All my gear behind me out the door and down
The street I run into an old bar-man I know.

 We exchanged pleasantries for a while and
I told him of my frustrations at waiting on
A call from a man up top of London Road
Waiting on a call
A call to come round
Buy something good
And be gone from there in the blink of an eye.

Today however the old bar-man came through
As I now sit here, high as I like, listening to the amazing
Miles blasting out Sanctuary
As at last my appetite returns and
In the space of twenty short minutes my life has changed
Taken a up-curve on this previously most frustrating of days.

 


BIOGRAPHY

 
Bradford Middleton still lives in Brighton on England’s south-coast where he works part-time in a shop and full-time on his words. His latest book, The Whiskey Stings Good Tonight, was recently published by the Alien Buddha Press. Recent poems have appeared in Cajun Mutt Press, Cacti Fur, Fixator Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, Rye Whiskey Review and the glorious Mad Swirl. He tweets occasionally @BradfordMiddle5.

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LIKE THE BIRDS ON THE WIRES. 3 Poems from Bradford Middleton

LIKE THE BIRDS ON THE WIRES

 
As I walked I would occasionally

Look up, up at the sky, up where

The birds ruled, home there to the

Lucky, those who can move in the

Blink of one eye. 

 
This time though the view was kind

Of different; the birds had all

Congregated, like musical notes on

A line, along the telephone wire that

Keeps us in touch with the outside world.

 
It was then I thought is that how

Leonard Cohen came up with the

Wonderful lyrics to 'Bird on a Wire'

By looking up, up at the sky, drawing

Inspiration from a natural phenomenon.

 
FALLING DOWN THE STAIRS

 
There were times when I would live

A life, a wild time, and would often

Find myself falling down those stairs

At the last resort out of my mind,

Always always out of my mind and

Late at night as that was when this

Beautiful gift always got me best

And sometimes it would be 3-15

In the morning and I’d be falling

Down those damn stairs out of

My damn mind feeling like a cat

At the end of his ninth life.

 
LIKE THOSE OLD DAYS (with my radio on)

 
I sit here tonight and it

Almost feels like the old-times as

My radio builds up to one of the games of the year

As old footballers talk of teenagers

Turning up to training in brand new

Shiny Mercedes-Benz as I sit here

Writing a life so far removed from

Their gilded existence it just goes to

Show you how capitalism has gone so

Terribly wrong… 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
BIOGRAPHY
 
 
Bradford Middleton was born in south-east London during the summer of 1971 and won his first poetry prize at the age of nine. He then gave up writing poems for nearly twenty-five years and it wasn’t until he landed in Brighton, knowing no one and having no money, that he began again. Ten years later and he’s been lucky enough to have had a few chapbooks published including a new one from Analog Submission Press entitled ‘Flying through this Life like a Bottle Battling Gravity’, his debut from Crisis Chronicles Press (Ohio, USA) and his second effort for Holy & Intoxicated Press (Hastings, UK). He has read around the UK at various bars, venues and festivals and is always keen to get out and read to new crowds. His poetry has also been or will be published shortly in the Chiron Review, Zygote in my Coffee, Section 8, Razur Cuts, Paper & Ink, Grandma Moses ‘Poet to Notice’, Empty Mirror, Midnight Lane Gallery, Bareback Lit and is a Contributing Poet over at the wonderful Mad Swirl. If you like what you’ve read go send a friend request on facebook to bradfordmiddleton1.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author & https://poetrylifeandtimes.com See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)

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FOLLOWING THEIR LEAD (i never will) A Poem by Bradford Middleton

The world seems to have turned a corner and suddenly there
Is a glint at the end of this longest tunnel down which life has
Taken a turn. News came today that the stock market is back
Up meaning the rich are back to getting richer and with all the
Headlines here consumed on one bit of news, our PM is now in
ICU, the real story is ignored as figures in general society are
Finally falling.

 
Right now though no one in our media cares as they all talk of
His fighting bulldog spirit and how he’ll battle on through just
Like they saw him on the rugby fields of Eton more than forty
Years before. He’s super-fit I heard one tory hack-minister claim
Before the interviewer managed to ask about his body-mass
Equating a case of obesity but ‘oh no, he runs, he exercises every
Day and barely drinks’ he claimed.
 
So now out there people continue to teem around the streets
Carrying on with their lives as if everything is normal and then
There are those who’ve decided they want to do something
About it. David Icke announces the burgeoning 5G masts are
Responsible for all this horror and the next thing we know they
Are being destroyed and whilst I think his theories mad it does
Offer a question.
 
Where did this come from and why did it happen? Well, in
Years, maybe decades to come, the truth will doubtless come
Out and practically no one will notice as it’ll just be a footnote
In a history book by then but I can guarantee you one thing, it
Weren’t the 5G masts that caused this as to this mind it seems
More like an exercise in control, seeing just how far they could
Push us, telling us what to do and how to live this life that grew
Just a little out of control.
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
BIOGRAPHY
 
 
Bradford Middleton was born in south-east London during the summer of 1971 and won his first poetry prize at the age of nine. He then gave up writing poems for nearly twenty-five years and it wasn’t until he landed in Brighton, knowing no one and having no money, that he began again. Ten years later and he’s been lucky enough to have had a few chapbooks published including a new one from Analog Submission Press entitled ‘Flying through this Life like a Bottle Battling Gravity’, his debut from Crisis Chronicles Press (Ohio, USA) and his second effort for Holy & Intoxicated Press (Hastings, UK). He has read around the UK at various bars, venues and festivals and is always keen to get out and read to new crowds. His poetry has also been or will be published shortly in the Chiron Review, Zygote in my Coffee, Section 8, Razur Cuts, Paper & Ink, Grandma Moses ‘Poet to Notice’, Empty Mirror, Midnight Lane Gallery, Bareback Lit and is a Contributing Poet over at the wonderful Mad Swirl. If you like what you’ve read go send a friend request on facebook to bradfordmiddleton1.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; his publications include
 
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
 
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)

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WASTING AWAY. A Poem by Bradford Middleton

Life has dwindled out here
On the periphery of this nightmare
At the edge of full-blown catatonic
Fever sweeping through me
As the waste has done its job on me
And this thing I call a life
No words have been written
As too much life has spent being lived
Until now when at last craving peace
I get a night home alone with
No major worries afflicting my
Mind.
 
This room is sorted for as long as I want it
My job is still hated but plans are being made
To get out of there too and not before time
As the ten year anniversary suddenly looms
Taking me back to that time when I arrived
Dreaming of a better life only to be dumped
On the refuge tip of creativity, to forsake money
As the evil of all evils. But here everything
Costs something and my brain needs special
Meds to keep it functioning and
All that weed costs a fair old wedge
Whilst all that booze costs a whole lot more
Leaving me with little after rent and food
Have been taken care of.
 
Right now though I’m just happy
To get this room sorted out as the first requirement
Of a life like this is a room in which I can sleep,
Write, drink, smoke and eat as that is
All I ever really want to do.
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
BIOGRAPHY
 
 
Bradford Middleton was born in south-east London during the summer of 1971 and won his first poetry prize at the age of nine. He then gave up writing poems for nearly twenty-five years and it wasn’t until he landed in Brighton, knowing no one and having no money, that he began again. Ten years later and he’s been lucky enough to have had a few chapbooks published including a new one from Analog Submission Press entitled ‘Flying through this Life like a Bottle Battling Gravity’, his debut from Crisis Chronicles Press (Ohio, USA) and his second effort for Holy & Intoxicated Press (Hastings, UK). He has read around the UK at various bars, venues and festivals and is always keen to get out and read to new crowds. His poetry has also been or will be published shortly in the Chiron Review, Zygote in my Coffee, Section 8, Razur Cuts, Paper & Ink, Grandma Moses ‘Poet to Notice’, Empty Mirror, Midnight Lane Gallery, Bareback Lit and is a Contributing Poet over at the wonderful Mad Swirl. If you like what you’ve read go send a friend request on facebook to bradfordmiddleton1.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times ; his publications include
 
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules and Next Arrivals, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
 
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)

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NO MORE VIEW. A Poem by Bradford Middleton

My old view was an inspiration behind many of the old words
But now that has gone and here I don’t even have a window to look out of
Not one that looks out on the street anyway
Well this means I’ve nothing to gaze out at or
Get annoyed about
The long-lost screaming of hen parties has gone
And no longer do I have to look at hipsters
Out convinced their having their postmodernist fun
But also no view means
I only see beauties now when I’m out on the street
And this place despite the distant
Roar of seagulls presents no view of the sea
Which means it’ll be impossible for me to start any poem
With the words ‘I stare out at sea’
And with that gone I’m not sure what
There will be left to write about.

 
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Bradford Middleton was born in London in 1971 but eventually found himself in Brighton in 2007 and began writing. Since then he has over 250 unique publications, including a novel from New Pulp Press and a couple of poetry chapbooks from Crisis Chronicles Press and Holy & Intoxicated Press. His work is dotted all over the internet and in several magazines and journals. He tweets occasionally @beatnikbraduk and is on facebook at bradfordmiddleton1.
 
 
 
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
 
robin@artvilla.com
editor@artvilla.com

 
 
 
 
 
Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop & Amazon.com Author Robin Ouzman Hislop

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CRAVING REST. A Poem by Bradford Middleton.

 

At work again and craving sleep and
A change in this life, two hundred and eleven hours
To go until freedom is mine
With a move around the corner
Is surely big enough right now but
My eyes look to the future and where
I’ll be spending the rest of my life
Who knows where that will be as
Not even I have one clue as to where
I will land but this year is certainly
Going to be a challenge as again
Job searches begin whilst finding places
That is within my meagre means and the
Sad realisation the answer, still, ain’t much

 
FB_20160530_12_42_33_Saved_Picture
 
 
Bradford Middleton was born in London in 1971 but eventually found himself in Brighton in 2007 and began writing. Since then he has over 250 unique publications, including a novel from New Pulp Press and a couple of poetry chapbooks from Crisis Chronicles Press and Holy & Intoxicated Press. His work is dotted all over the internet and in several magazines and journals. He tweets occasionally @beatnikbraduk and is on facebook at bradfordmiddleton1.
 
 
 
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
 
robin@artvilla.com
editor@artvilla.com

 
Key of Mist. Guadalupe Grande.Translated.Amparo Arróspide.Robin Ouzman Hislop
 
goodreads.com/author/show/Robin Ouzman Hislop
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
https://www.amazon.com/author/robinouzmanhislop
http://www.innerchildpress.com/robin-ouzman-hislop.All the Babble of the Souk

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