Cross Bones Graveyard, Southwark

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“… a pauper’s burial ground, with a legend going back to medieval times…”

But that’s not the half of it- not even the beginning… more on this to come in another post. Please click the link above to find out more about this place, in the heart of South London, just off Borough High Street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Found Poetry Project at Housmans Bookshop

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Since January I have been visiting Housmans in Kings Cross to look for ‘found’ poems in the £1 Book Basement of this famous radical bookshop. Housmans have very kindly allowed me to rummage through the goodies in this section, which is currently being re-organised moved into a new space. You can see my progress on the In-Hous Tumblr I have set up to track some of the finds and investigate the process of ‘finding’ poems out of the old books and pamphlets.

Rough music for her passing

Ran Tan Tan

Ran Tan Tan

I will bang my pots and pans

on Ludgate Hill,

by Bridie’s Well,

the day she makes her trip to Hell.

 

Flag-covered gun carriage

crosses cobbles, carries

She who

hobbled a nation.

The Fleet’s the Styx,

the streets the bones,

feet kick up stones.

Backs are turned away from

a lady not for turning,

remembering is not mourning.

 

Ran Tan Tan

Ran Tan Tan

I will bang my pots and pans

on Ludgate Hill,

by Bridie’s Well,

the day she makes her trip to Hell.

 

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di·vi·sive  divisive divisive divisive divisive divisive

di·vi·sive  divisive divisive divisive divisive divisive

divisive di·vi·sive  divisive divisive divisive divisive

divisive divisive di·vi·sive  divisive divisive divisive

divisive divisive divisive di·vi·sive divisive divisive

where there is harmony, may we bring dischord