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

Carrying a torch - (the usher's song)

I remember when old movies meant they were made before my time,

bright with stars of yesteryear when a dime was worth a dime.

Now I watch the late night shows I first saw in my teens,

when women pulled on cigarettes and only men wore jeans.

Lady lady shine your light make a grey world black and white,

I’ve grown old like faded celluloid,

I’ve reeled from reel to reels

watching spinning stagecoach wheels

and John Wayne winning wars on land and sea.

I remember when the heroes were something to be seen,

but it’s hard to be heroic trapped inside a twelve inch screen,

Jimmy Dean was such a giant he was born to grow and grow,

but they put him on the tee—vee and the adman stole the show.

Lady lady shine your light make a grey world black and white,

I’ve grown old like faded celluloid,

I’ve reeled from reel to reels

watching spinning stagecoach wheels

and John Wayne winning wars on land and sea.

I remember when a love scene meant you never saw at all,

but now the skin is sprayed on, and it stretches wall to wall,

I still love Ava Gardner and her sea—green bedroom eyes,

that’s all I ever knew of her apart from off—screen sighs.

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