LIVERPOOL POETS 2008
Ray Ford
Ray was born in Everton, Liverpool and now lives in Rossendale. He has been a life long Everton supporter. This means that he is welcome in the blue half of Liverpool and spurned by the red half, which includes his wife and half his family. He performs his poetry in many guises including Lord Ford, the Football Fan and the very successful Grumpy Old Poet. He has also been known to include the serious stuff and play some tunes on the flute although he sounds much better when he is drowned out by the whistles and violins in the traditional Irish music band.
Ray is a creative writing tutor with Lancashire Adult Learning, a trained mentor and serves on the committee of Rossendale Arts Alliance. He has also worked with junior school children and serves on the committee responsible for the annual Rossendale Kidz Art Festival. Ray’s classes were chosen to take part in Manchester Metropolitan University’s award winning experiment to test if art could help people suffering from mental health problems.
Ray had his first poem published at the age of twelve and has since been published in many anthologies and magazines including his own book of poems. He was a prize winner in “Movie Maker” International script writing competition, the Green Room, Manchester; and many other writing and performance competitions. He has had extensive experience writing amateur film scripts and a regular monthly magazine column.
He is well known on the performance poetry network and has performed live at many of the venues including the Egg Café; Dead Good Poet’s Society and Unity Theatre, Liverpool; Spotlight, Lancaster; Marine Hall, Fleetwood; Manky Poets, Manchester; Haworth Arts Festival (Bronte country); Ledbury Poetry Festival and Ilkley Fringe.
He has performed his poetry live on BBC Local Radio several times and has had his work performed on BBC Radio Lancashire and the Radio Lancashire Road Show.
Email: talkingpoetry@btopenworld.com
Night in the shelter
The sirens wailed and we made our way
Laden with Blankets, books, torch and flask
Mum carried her handbag and a little box
Containing, ration book and other treasures
And dad lugged his violin
The shelter was a sticky smelly place
And full of strange smelly people
Everyone tried to keep cheerful
Mr Anderson made us laugh
Dad played the violin and we sang along
ROLL OUT THE BARREL
I DON’T WANT TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE
With ack-ack accompaniment
When a bomb came near we fell silent
When the all clear sang
We ran out, not knowing what to expect
Hoping; always hoping
All Clear
The all clear sounds
This means I can hear it
It means that for the moment
The bombs have ceased
The houses are still burning
And there is still a lot to fear
Like fires and falling walls
Like people buried beneath bricks
Like finding friends and relatives
It means more than this
It means you are still alive
God bless those who cannot hear it
Anyone wishing to contact this poet can do so through emma.jackson@linuxmail.org
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