Liverpool Tales from the Mersey Mouth - A book by John Williams

"This is a wonderful collection of writings by John Williams. While it isn't specifically about the Beatles, they are clearly a part of the story, along with the very fiber and fabric of the city that influenced him and them as well. The pieces are short, well written and filled with a delicious sense of humor that shines in the titles as well as the essays." Jan Perry, Cincinnati Post
"John Williams writes in the language of Liverpool, a Scouse scribe who brings to life the people and places, inner thoughts and outer images, the vigour and vitality and essentially, the iron humour of a unique city." Bill Harry, founder of Mersey Beat

Liverpool Poems

This is a sample of my poetry that had been consigned to poetry limbo for years. As Coleridge once remarked, "Poems are never finished, they are simply abandoned." Poetry is a solitary occupation and so I have never been part of any ink crowd. My poetry is a mixture of the formal, such as Villanelles, and free verse. Some of it is an attempt at a lyric form, and I suppose is more correctly called song. Poetry is a difficult medium for people as it presents a conflict of perception because it stems from an oral tradition thousands of years old, yet we insist on reading it as if it were prose and so we encounter problems of understanding. Poetry is nothing if not a motion picture show, a flowing stream of images carrying ideas in its meandering course. I hope you enjoy mine as it contains images of my life.

John Williams

Endless Rainbows

For Marian

Come with me,

to that warm place where

a spent rainbow

dissolved,

falling

to earth in a flaming liquescence of light

splashing

the land with a mosaic of eye-bright colour

Come with me,

to that warm place where

blizzards of blossom

bend the sap soaked boughs

to sweep autumn's leavings tenderly

away

Come with me to that warm place where

knots of upright crocus

bunch and congregate

swaying gently

like worshippers after mass

Come with me

to that warm place where choirs

of trilling daffodil birds

green throated strain

to greet the spring

and gild again the rainbows

Come, now, before the summer's

dessicated kiss

My thanks to Tim Kelly and Brigitte C for the new look to my site