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

Street music

Sparrows, starlings and seagulls

dive bombing

screech above the naked and

exposed furrows of nearby fields,

rousing me from my infant sleep.

I make my way to the kitchen accompanied by the

whistle and hiss of the radio; mother searching for

music,

clicking buttons

Hilversum,

Dortmund

Luxembourg.

Grimacing I drag the squealing chair to the sink

against the red tiled floor.

I clamber onto the seat;

its rickety legs dance a tattoo.

Turning on the tap to wash my face;

I recoil as the whoosh of bubbling silver

splashes the porcelain, spraying ice cold my

knees.

The muted breathing of the gas beneath the kettle and

scraping of toast hoarsely whispers that

school is not far off.

Slamming door merges with the clinking of milk bottles,

rattling inside crates carried by the trundling horse drawn

cart.

I pause briefly,

admiring the grey dappled horse whose soft snorting

frosts

the morning air,

enveloping its lugubrious velvet features in matching

grey mist,

and begin my long walk to school.

Schoolyard child cries mingle with the whirring of

skipping ropes and the dull thud of hop-scotching

plimsolls;

the gentle cacophony is broken by the hand held school

bell reverberating on concrete and brick.

The playground sonata gives way to scraping of chairs,

the

clunking of desk lids,

the

rustle of

comics.

Blackboard chalk squeakings and broken

clicks,

announce that our daily lesson begins.

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