Tag Archives: David Reakes


I entered two poems in 2009 on the theme of “All that glisters is not gold”. Here they both are:



Now don’t get me wrong, I love where I live,

But something about it has started to give.

I’m not one for biting the hand that feeds me,

But I think this town’s got a little bit greedy.

Something is rotten in Glastonburg, something is rank and smelly,

Or, to put it another way, there’s a dark Glast-underbelly.

And at the risk of getting all down on yo’ asses:

Mammon stalks Avalon with backstage passes

To all the emporia on the High Street,

Putting everything sacred through a till and a spread sheet.

Plastic effigies of the Green Man,

Piles of ceramic camper vans,

Shamanic talismans (made in Bristol),

Sandals and candles and crystals and crystals!

Yes I know, we’re the good guys, and we have to keep earning,

There’s no shame asking folk to mix spending with learning.

But there comes a point when enough is enough,

Do we need thirty shops selling all the same stuff?

Our High Street is still the best in the land

With the useful, the quirky the grubby and the grand

All rubbing shoulders in the huge melting pot

That is Glastonbury High Street. But it’s losing the plot.

Avalon shoes, Theo Ginn’s menswear,

Stationers, florists, Millers hardware:

All of these shops have lately been lost,

And if we’re not careful we’ll soon count the cost

Of our very own brand of homogenisation,

Where shop after shop offers no variation,

Not through Globalisation  –

But Crystallization!

I’ve seen a future, dismal and dark,

Where this whole town’s one big Crystallized Theme Park,

With no Starbucks, Gap or KFC,

Just Glastucky Fried Ethnicity.

Will the pet shop or Dickets join the ranks of the dead?

Or, heaven forfend, Burns the Bread?

(Though you can stuff the Banks, the greedy barbarians,

And the Butchers too cos I’m vegetarian.)

None will be spared, all are devoured,

As the town is re-branded Alton(ative) Towers.

And no single shop deserves any blame

Cos they’re all fantastic… but they’re all just the same!

Diversity is the spice of life,

So let’s keep our shopping as free from strife

As choosing our food at a picnic al fresco.

Oh, and one other thing: say “No” to Tesco’s!

So don’t get me wrong, I love where I live,

But something about it has started to give.

And I’ll end with a warning, if I may be so bold,

And say: All that Glasto’s may not be gold.

Little Golden Children


I am life, I am laughter,

I am breath and warmth and youth.

I am princess, I am daughter,

I am strength and love and truth.

I am running through the garden,

Past the fountains, past the vines,

Running headlong to my father

Brimming joy in heart and mind.

I ignore the court and courtiers,

With their business grand and great,

I am princess, I am daughter

And my father king awaits.

Never once have I awoken

Without greeting him like this,

Nothing uttered, nothing spoken

Just a celebration kiss.

As I near I see him standing,

Staring at his outstretched hands,

Mouth agape and eyes demanding

To be told. To understand.

But it’s such a glorious morning,

And I’m young and fleet and bold!

I ignore these tiny warnings,

I ignore the gleam of gold.

Golden food on golden table,

Golden bough on golden tree

Should have stopped me were they able

But momentum carries me

To my father’s warm embraces

And I’m there before he knows,

But there’s horror on the faces

Of the courtiers as we close.

And I hear a cry of anguish,

And I see my father’s pain

Showing torment beyond language,

Even as I start to change.

Time slows

Fingers tingle

Flesh glows

Blood mingles



This deadly


Re-arranging me

Feeling strange in me

Claiming me

Staining me

Stealing through me

Metal surges

Metal urges

Purges all feeling and thought

I am tempered and taught

Solid and wrought

Modified, commodified

Sold and bought

My heart beat broken, stolen,

One last metallic breath.

Silence is golden,

And so is death.

I am lifeless, I am slaughter,

I am breathless, cold and old.

I was princess, I was daughter,

Now I’m priceless, worthless gold.