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I've been spending a lot of time recently with the poetry of Dylan Thomas and numerous writers for the London Literary Pub Crawl and the forthcoming Dylan Thomas in Fitzrovia Weekend in London. More about that later.  But in spite of the genius of Thomas, Heany and dozens of others, I've found I quite like writing poetry.  I've no idea of technical form or how to do it or even why I like writing it, but it's an interesting way of encapsulating an emotion or feeling.  And without realising it, I've been scribbling bits of verse for years.

I found this in an old notebook, written in a curry house on the eve of leaving Birmingham to come to London full time to work at Shakespeare's Globe and attend Uni for the first time in 2007.  It's my little offering for National Poetry Day!  It's a bit of fun.  Have a go yourself!





Breaking up, Birmingham.



No more beloved Brummie Heaths,
no more, my shell-suit sweeties.

No more green corporation pride,
for I, alas, must leave thee.

Leave Shylet Spice, eleven rides
and don't forget the Billesley.

But I’ll be back, you know I will,
unless I shag the city!