hugh wade

Tag: Poetry

  • Kreuzberg Summer 2008

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

    What a fabulous summer it was! I didn’t come here for buildings Monuments to pain and grief Shadow walls of delusion That echo disbelief I came here for the people The street life and the food For the novelty of living As a new guy in the ‘hood To struggle with a language Outside my…

  • Ode to the nipple

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

    A couple of years ago a friend set up a night of burlesque and cabaret to raise funds to support a friend with breast cancer. She asked me to write and perform a poem on the topic … an ode to the nipple. This is what I came up with … It is the first…

  • When we all had hair

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

    Out of a stony breakfast conversation with some new German friends, this poem eventually made it to the light of day. When we all had hair Our souls were younger Drugs were stronger Days were longer We thought we could change the world When we all had hair Women had hair all over Equal rights…

  • THE CAFE VILLAGE BY THE SEA

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

     Summer In the café village by the sea, Angels live among us, Held dear to my heart, Spreading warmth and joy. As do the bouncy, smiling sirens Flitting between the Bays. From the Admiral’s to the Soldier Poet’s Sharing comforts of a kind. Alas, their song no longer confounds Adventurers needless of earplugs or restraints…

  • Trident Blue

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

    My Mum told me a story once about my brother’s mate. She said, in her inimitable manner, “Hughie. You should write a poem about this!” Yes, Mother. Of course, this isn’t that story verbatim. This is where I took it … My brother has a good old mate He’s known since sixty-one Fifty odd years…

  • Dungog by accident

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

    First draft of my experience waiting in Dungog for three days while my spare keys took 3 days by Express Post from Valla, only three hundred k’s away. Three days! Oh, did I say that I’d lost the  keys at my annual favourite “Music Arts and Lifestyle” Festival in the glorious Barrington Tops? Disappeared down…

  • Wasted words

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    by

    Hugh Wade
    in

    New poem I’m working on … needs feedback to see if the rhythm and ideas make sense So many wasted words, still more struggle to be said. Endless parade of repetition, issues from the human condition. We prise fears from our psyches, turn them into marks on a page. Catharsis in ink. Discovering in the…