Pity not this Bradford

Fashioned from millstone grit
no soft, red brick here.
The mill towers
and countless spires
still shape the skyline.
Whilst all around
this steep sided city,
the moors and dry stone walls
play backdrop,
a wild, elemental border.

Minarets in amongst
call the faithful to prayer.
Cheek by jowl
with church and chapel,
the city is studded
with its multi ethnicity.
Yet, bound by moors
and dry stone walls,
where the bleak winds ever
whip the crests of cotton grass
over brown bog tufts.
This harsh northern land
will always shape the spirit
that is Bradford.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Bradford is a very old city. It goes back beyond Anglo Saxon times, and the woollen industry was always at its heart. Sheep farmed on the inhospitable moors around and a continuous supply of soft water for washing the fleeces. It gained size and wealth in the late 19th century during the industrial revolution, when hundreds of huge imposing mills were built to wash, comb, card and weave. At one time it was the woollen capital of the world and made the finest woollen worsteds. We still have some of that splendid Victorian architecture, a reminder of past glories and wealth. No denying the city has been through hard times and I have seen many changes even in my lifetime, but today, its spirit is positive. It's a very multicultural city. The mood here is not one of segregation and 'us and them', but a real joining of cultures. I'm proud to belong to the same city that has produced The Brontes, J.B. Priestly, Frederick Delius, and David Hockney to name but a few. I have just tweeked this a bit and edited the title. The title now refers to a ghost that appeared at the bedside of the Earl of Newcastle in 1643, during the English Civil War. The Earl was going to massacre the inhabitants of Bradford, but the night before the attack, a ghost appeared at his bedside begging him to 'pity poor Bradford' and spare its people.

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Yorkshire England, GBR

Comments

another good write Jane

Can I suggest that you don't capitalise every beginning word of each line?
lol - it's just one of those things that I think spoils a poem
(I know the masters mostly did it - but to me it seems a little old-fashioned)

One tiny thing that niggled me
'Bradford’s many faces
Will all be shaped
By this northern force.'

The poem itself seems to imply that the wind has shaped the town forever, then these last three lines only speak of the future....

(Just me maybe)
Love judy
xxx

.

Good point, I think I'll

Good point, I think I'll change will to are.
It isn't the just wind that shapes us up here, but the harsh conditions the elements impose.
The 'northern force', is much more than a wind, it's an elemental driving force, part of the spirit of Bradford.

Re capital letters, I hear you, but it might take me a while to adapt, I am old fashioned and had the capital letter thing drummed into me at school. However, I'll have a go with the next poem I write.Thanks for reading Judy and the help. Jxx

yes

I actually did get that from the write (what has shaped the town)
just letting you know that the message did come across ...
I guess I used only the wind for my comment as I became a bit lazy lol
xxx

Re Capital Letters

I had the same discipline drummed into me, it is surprising how quickly one can adapt with a little effort.

PS: I love the sounds of the word choice, especially the first verse

Thank you Keith. Am

Thank you Keith. Am currently on hols in Lake District. Awaiting poetic inspiration.......... Jx

jane

you and jayne have this unique style which fills me with envy.

Alid

I think we all have a

I think we all have a uniqueness. I am in constant awe on here, reading so much work and thinking - I wish I'd written that.
Your latest poem being one of those! Jx

.

I Love Bradford!

Little Germany district...and Waterstones bookshop in the old Corn Exchange.....and the Photographic Museum....used to love looking at all the carpet twinkling lights of Bradford at night when I was coming over the 'Tops' to Oxenhope, where I used to live. Used to get a childish thrill by it all.
Very evocative piece. Phoey to the caps...so what? It's the emotion of the piece I really like.
Ells :)xxx

Jane

A lovely write on your home town, the comments have said all, though I like the way things have been shaped, I think Judy realised it was the ages that formed Bradford and not the Easterly wind lol.
Take care, as always Ian x

Thank you Jerry.

Thank you Jerry.
I wrote this a while back, but have just been doing some tweeking.
Cheers Jx

Jane

There has been a lull in your writing this year, are you having problems, and if so is there any help we can give??
Some always blame their muses what ever they are..
Hope to see some new works from you soon as,
Yours as always Ian..xx

Hi Ian

Hi Ian
Over the last few months, I haven't felt the need to write, nor have I felt I had the ability to do so. Just a blank, where there used to be words. Sometimes if you don't have any thing to say, it's better to say nothing.
A couple of weeks ago, the bare bones of a poem, dropped out of the blue and although it didn't arrive neatly packaged and ready to go, I've been quietly working away, till I have something I'm happy with. I'll publish it here soon.
Been reading through a few of my older poems and the edit for this one, just sprang out at me. It's funny isn't it, that time is often the best editor we have. Jx