Author Archives: Dick Jones

About Dick Jones

I'm a post-retirement Drama teacher, currently working part-time. I have a grown-up son and daughter, three grandchildren and three young children from my second marriage. I write - principally poetry but prose too, both fitfully published. My poetry collection Ancient Lights is published by Phoenicia Publishing ( and my translation of Blaise Cendrars' 'Trans-Siberian Prosody and Little Jeanne from France' (illustrated by my friend, the artist, writer and long-time blogger Natalie d'Arbeloff) is published by Old Stile Press ( I play bass guitar & bouzouki in the song-based acoustic/electric trio Moorby Jones, playing entirely original material ( + I play the same instruments in the Celtic/English/Americana/acoustic ambient trio Escher's Dream. I have a dormant blog with posts going back to 2004 at Dick Jones' Patteran Pages - - and I'm a radio ham. My callsign is G0EUV


THE LYREBIRD I am the lyrebird, known as such               for the shape my tail feathers make in courtship. Yet I know nothing of the lyre. I am the mimic, the impersonator.     … Continue reading

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Language ought to be the joint creation of poets and manual workers. George Orwell Ever since the acquisition of words provided me with a receptacle for memory, I have loved language.  Its music, its power to evoke, its absurd variety … Continue reading

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MOORBY JONES Steve Moorby : guitar/keyboards/mandolin/pedal steel/vocals Gemma Moorby : guitar/keyboards/drums & percussion/vocals Dick Jones : bass guitar/bouzouki One of the very greatest English singer/songwriters Richard Thompson was asked whether he thought of his lyrics as poetry. He answered: I … Continue reading

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THE TRICK The trick is to let slip the ladder that brought you climbing to this point. Unknot it, let it fall away. Then reach up through the half- dark and flick the latch and let the shutter fall. No … Continue reading

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PARTING, HOW TO. Conventionally, lovers should part in a soft storm of blown hopes and unconsumed potential. Tears blur the old horizons and refract a new world where one is the number. Some might perceive a beauty in this crafted … Continue reading

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UP The ice is melting. It pinks and shivers like thin music. Black windows in the ground go soft and vanish. Cobweb dewdrops glow like moonstones in the dark blue before dawn. You wake. You breathe deep. First light, bright … Continue reading

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            EVENT HORIZON I saw Eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light… HENRY VAUGHAN A dark treat, this sudden encounter with death. Entering the unlit room and expecting the … Continue reading

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