Photo By Jools Thatcher

Photo By Jools Thatcher

The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “ Heart “.

Northern Spain: Ola Sarah, I’ve spent the last week training it across the north of Spain, and I’m embarrassed to report my Spanish is proving even more atrocious than my French, particularly after a couple of drinks.

[singlepic id=68 w=160 h=120 float=left]I’ve finally made it to the east coast and the port city of Vigo, where I’m trying to eat every sardine Dave Evans didn’t snaffle during his tour here a couple of years ago. Pleased to find he left a few but their heads are missing.

Talking of missing, I’m really missing my Sundays on the JVG Radio Method but with 25 degrees and blue sky every day, I’m not missing you all enough to come home – not yet anyway – especially you Ed!

I’m all heart.

To play this poem directly in your browser – just click the “play” button below:
[audio:JVG_Poem20110605.mp3]

Also have a listen to the tracks on the new EP “Once We Were Kings Of The World


Heart

I had one day in Leon; twenty four hours
To uncover its secrets; dungeons and towers

A church bell chimed twice, half past something

Where do I start? Palace or church?
Or a soft Spanish Red while refining my search?

Choosing was easy; harder was where?
From the hundreds of bars surrounding the square

I picked one at random, relying on feel
More tiles, faded yellow and less polished steel

I stared at the menu, twice read it through
I recognised nothing, not a word, not a clue

As though my eyes spoke and my thoughts could be heard
The owner approached, not saying a word

Seventy plus in a black tailored suit
Deep brooding eyes, composed, resolute

Dark hair, swept back, sideburns turned ash
A proud nose supported by a pencil moustache

He picked up my menu, a nod of the head
In that nod, everything required to be said

Food just appeared, plate after plate
Red wine, white wine, topped up as I ate

The bell chimed three times, quarter to who knows

What was I eating? Not easy to tell
For the sake of my conscience I think just as well

What ever it was I have not a doubt
I devoured every thing from the arse to the snout

With the bill came a shot glass, some kind of liqueur
A colourless liquid, once again, I’m not sure

But I required both the waiters to rise from my chair
With benevolent indifference, a non judgemental air

I attempted some Spanish as I lurched out the door
“Goodbye” I’d forgotten so I belched “Por Favor”

The bell chimed once, a quarter past caring

One day in Leon; twenty four hours
To uncover its secrets; dungeons and towers

I crawled back to my lodgings, room spinning round
I drank from the bidet – it was close to the ground

I’d seen nothing of castles, museums, or art
I’d searched for it’s soul but discovered it’s heart

The bell chimed the hour, and my train was leaving

© Copyright 2011 Ian Bland

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