Haribo Roots Contemporary writings of Pontefract.
 
Dialogic: The Licorice Fields at Pontefract

The Dialogic.

The Licorice Fields at Pontefract
by Sir John Betjeman

In the licorice fields at Pontefract
My love and I did meet
And many a burdened licorice bush
Was blooming round our feet;
Red hair she had and golden skin,
Her sulky lips were shaped for sin,
Her sturdy legs were flannel-slack'd
The strongest legs in Pontefract.

The light and dangling licorice flowers
Gave off the sweetest smells;
From various black Victorian towers
The Sunday evening bells
Came pealing over dales and hills
And tanneries and silent mills
And lowly streets where country stops
And little shuttered corner shops.

She cast her blazing eyes on me
And plucked a licorice leaf;
I was her captive slave and she
My red-haired robber chief.
Oh love! for love I could not speak,
It left me winded, wilting, weak,
And held in brown arms strong and bare
And wound with flaming ropes of hair.





The Licorice Yields in Pontefract
My response to Sir John Betjeman


Two friends of mine worked for HARIBO

and one day decided they were in love.

Oh sure it must be, said I, and many a burdened

licorice bush was blooming around your feet.

I say, I too met a red head and she had golden skin,

with her sulky lips, shaped for all of sin!

You should have seen the sturdy legs- flannel-slack’d-

they must’ve been the strongest in all of Pontefract!

 

Forgive me. I am bitter, all be it
the “sweetest of smells” infiltrating my nostrils.

There are still fields, but the plant’s

no longer grown here. The soft soil gives way
to confectioneries in slave factories, and the evening bells

now come from the landlord wanting to give boot to hell:

“B***** off, tha’s ‘ead’s in a spin!”

Ironic I’d say, as he helps himself to another gin.

 

That night, some bint cast her flicking eyes on me

and I offered her a strawb;

at times even I am Haribo’s captive slave
and she is my blonde haired displacement
for the real world. Pomfret is now Ponte Carlo

so maybe I’ll bleach my roots and buy me a Henley’s top;

and you’ll find me on the corner drinking alcopops.





(C) Andy Carrington, 2008.

You can view the original article at: www.andycarrington.co.uk

Published Date:
06/05/2009
Modified Date:
06/05/2009







In Memory of Colleen Carrington

This time three years ago I was still recovering from a long overdue Christmas and New Year’s hangover. I can’t remember much of any of the nights out in Ponte’, expect for the probability that I ended up in Big Fellas, carrying my usual 3 4 £5 bottles of VK around at one time, revelling in my own traces of vomit, and attempting to dance to cheesiest club tunes on the planet.

My drinking at the time was escapism; it was coming up to nearly three months since I lost my Mother to cancer, and I had attempted to live my life with very little delay. When the doctors informed my family and I that her last days were approaching she was transferred from Leeds General Infirmary to the Prince of Wales Hospice, in Pontefract, where she was cared for until her eventual death.

At that time I never once cried, and to this day I still think there must’ve been something terribly wrong with me. How cliché it must sound for me to say this, but she really was the perfect Mother any human being could ever ask for. She tucked me in at night when I was a small child; read through my English coursework when I was a mid-teenager, with the determination to correct my grammar; and wiped away my tears after I had first been heartbroken by love, giving me hope that one day I would find someone that cared for me as much as she so did.

As a beautiful, caring individual, she smiled in the face of others, no matter what their attitude was towards her, and she always went out of her way to make sure they were happy; she believed having a positive attitude was what life was all about. She worked, earnestly, nine to five at least five days of the week in Leeds, and would come home each evening and unwind with the love she had for her husband Colin, and four children, Andrew, Rebecca, Holly, and Alice.

I was her first born, her only son, and I was nauseated by the selfish world that took her away from me. Generally speaking, Colleen was an individual that lived up to everything society asked of her: she ate all the right foods, went to the gym three times a week, refrained from using profanity, and believed in God. And at forty seven years old how could anyone have judged it as her time to go?

It wouldn’t feel right of me to say “Rest in Peace” when society has lost such a charismatic and genuine individual. Instead of sleeping, I will make sure that justice becomes from your life living through the rest of the Carrington family’s days. We will never forget you. We miss you, and will always love you.

And it is now, sober, that I finally cry for you. A ma vie de coeur entier.




(C) Andy Carrington, 2009.

The original article can be found at: www.andycarrington.co.uk
Published Date:
06/05/2009
Modified Date:
06/05/2009



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