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The Church Bell

I live in a quiet country village now but as a child I grew up as part of a mining community . This is my tribute to those wonderful people. Slag heap as high as a mountain Cobbled streets covered in grime Every time the heavens open Gutters turn to rivers of slime. Terraced houses of depression Broken men gasp for breath The tolling of the old church bell Announcing yet another death. Women hardened to this life Stop to pay respect Tomorrow it might be their man Death is something all expect. Miners at the coalface Toiled with shovel and pick No respite from the torture In seams just two feet thick. 15 years old and fresh from school Their destiny was to be found Lurking in the total blackness Of a life spent underground . Yet what hearts those miners had They live forever in my memory The drive, The caring , The passion For all who lived in their community . Those coalmines are long gone now Be it for political or financial gain Community spirit broken Only shadows of the past remain . Where once did proud miners dwell Lie estates devoid of soul Still the ringing of the old church bell but no one to hear its toll.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 2/24/2014 10:11:00 AM
Dear Darren Such dangerous and heartbreaking occupation. I did not live in a mining town, only heard stories and have seen pictures of coal faced men. It seems there are still miners in Mexico, South America and have seen their heroic and deadly stories on TV. Heartfelt poetry. love, Kathy
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Date: 2/23/2014 10:47:00 PM
A great tribute to a harsh time and place, in your poem you've aloud your reader to have a passport backwards in time through your imagination and brilliant lines, i feel that i have been their seeing what you've seen a rare gift for a poet thank you for sharing the adventure my friend and fellow souper. cheri
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Date: 2/23/2014 7:36:00 PM
To me she paints a perfect picture of distant times and places. Your poem does the same...i meant it as a compliment... Cheers Huberta
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/23/2014 7:41:00 PM
Huberta I do apologise if I gave you the impression I believed any other . I don't wear pink either , lol I was and always will be grateful for your comments .
Date: 2/23/2014 4:30:00 PM
You paint a true picture of a sad existence but a blessed one because of the community spirit...like a Catherine Cookson novel. Cheers Huberta
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/23/2014 6:52:00 PM
Ms Cookson wrote an awful lot of books and made an awful lot of money . I don't begrudge her a single penny but I would have appreciated her writing an awful lot more had she lived a single minute with the people she wrote of . I know what you mean though and I appreciate the comments.
Date: 2/19/2014 3:08:00 PM
This is so sad, and to think of all the misspent lives. People who got that black lung disease or died younger than necessary because of such bad working conditions. You captured that feeling of sadness for me. Meanwhile, the rich getting richer off their backs.
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/22/2014 5:15:00 AM
Thank you Andrea. One day the world may wake up and realise there is something dreadfully wrong about some having so much and others so little . The rich tell us to walk out of our jobs and pursue that $100,000 per week job , The communities I came from are lucky to get $ 200 per week , low skills , poor educational opportunities .Very few people I know would qualify for the big money jobs .
Date: 2/18/2014 1:11:00 PM
Evocative and the subject well worth writing about. As I have just read Orwell's book called Wigan Pier and the description of life down the pit will stay with me forever. Who can forget Aberfan disaster also. Well done for your succinct renderings. Regards, Theresa x
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/19/2014 3:52:00 AM
Thank you Theresa If you like a good read , Emile Zola's Germinal is the best book I have ever read , The Soil, sometimes called the earth is also fantastic.
Date: 2/18/2014 12:55:00 PM
Maybe there is hope. They are using new technology here in the States and have reopened some of the old mines...Great write Darren
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/19/2014 3:59:00 AM
I doubt it Tim . We've gone all nuclear now and windmills . Green energy they call it , Turns me green when I get my bills . Thanks for the lovely comment though. Daz
Date: 2/18/2014 11:57:00 AM
- Yes, it was "proud" boys / men who worked in the dark for 12 hours a day - Grime and toxic gases .... with picks and shovels. - Poorly paid ..... poor health .... - They are really some HEROES !!! - An interesting poem, Darren! - Well written!! - oxox // Anne-Lise :)
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/19/2014 4:04:00 AM
We've turned to renewable energy sources now but those who make those decisions should have remembered those who gave so much when coal was king and desperately needed and encouraged new industries into the areas to provide jobs , A salary gives hope and hope is what the miners and their families really need now.
Date: 2/18/2014 10:22:00 AM
ohh, this is deep, daz.. reminds me of coal mine's daughter...lovely thoughts enthrall.. huggs!
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Darren Watson
Date: 2/18/2014 10:49:00 AM
In the area I grew up in there used to be 9 coalmines . Now there are none , No industry , No jobs , No hope . When their country needed them through two world wars , They broke their backs to keep the home fires burning , When they needed help. No one heard.

Book: Shattered Sighs