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> > Wendy Young

I like to think of my poems as ‘misery with oomph’ taken from observations of life.  I use poetry as a way of expressing my personality. I perform at various poetry events in London and have had a few poems published here and there. I am working towards publishing a book… or maybe two.

The Cooker, The Phone, Her Head & Their Dogma (and a hatchet)

30 May 2014


The cooker broke down. I decided on a new one.  That went wrong after a few weeks.  Apparently I could have sent it back to the Shop before 28 days but I was too late.  So the supplier sent an engineer who, after umpteen visits with the wrong parts even got fed up and advised 'ask for an uplift number', which means the manufacturer will inform the company who sold it to me to take it away and refund my money.  The process should have been simple (in...

Comments: 2

Wheelchair Dancer

19 May 2014


I just want to express my joy when at a 1940s event on Saturday night, the DJ came from behind the decks in his wheelchair, took a lady by the hand and they bopped a real good jive.   Turns didn't stop him as he spun like fury and didn't fail to catch her hand as they danced with perfect timing.  I am not sure how he did it but it was very impressive.  It showed real passion and determination for the music he loves. Wheels of Fury DJ of the be bop big...

Comments: 0

Is there life on Mars?

13 May 2014


Wolf-Rayet R136al

With all the furore about the future of housing, the depressing prospects for people trying to find a home, Camerloon laughing at Milipede's proposal for a three year tenant/ landlord agreement, I think it's a good time to pull out this poem that fantasises about getting the hell out of this world!  It may seem influenced by God Bowie (with a bit of help from Patrick Hamilton's great book title 'Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky' but it could...

Comments: 2

Age Concerned

6 May 2014


After watching Panorama's harrowing but must see programme about the abuse of elderly patients in a £700 a week 'Care Home' on the BBC last week, I was reminded of my maternal grandmother Lucy's death.  My grandmother at age 86 fell out of bed, she had not been ill, in fact she had never been in hospital (apart from working as a cleaner in a strict regime in the town hospital).  A week later she was dead.  I was only 12 and felt traumatised. I...

Comments: 1