Mitch Hadley

This poem is about myself when I'm a bit or actually quite a lot Manic.

Nugget Nickers

seagulls, seagulls in the air
we fly round just to scare
rest on rooftops
just to stare
hot or cold we don't care

eyes that twinkle
shining black
looking for that bit of scrap
beaks of yellow
hard as nails
we snatch your lunch
without fail
now it's shown
in this tale
we're the fastest takeaway
in the land


Broad Beans

I hated coming home from school
on a Wednesday afternoon
when an odious smell of rotten socks
and sweaty vests
trampled around the sitting room

In the scullery on the stove
boiling in a pan
little bombs of green boils
were ready to explode

And then came the dread call
before the telly starts
stomach wrenching
brain engaging
I rustled up a cunning plan
to engage
the radiator warship
standing next to me
to gobble up my nasty bombs
as my faithful friendly hound
would never eat
those damn broad beans
Mother's punishment meal

My dad found those broad beans twenty years later, when he took the radiator off the kitchen wall.


'Poetry for me is a way of getting out my feelings and thoughts. I find it relaxing and stimulating and eases my mind. I am by no means a Shakespeare, or a Keats but going out to a place and being with a small group is paramount to my well-being. It helps me develop skills in people power, for I find mixing with other people very difficult. Standing in front of two hundred people reciting my poems was a great achievement for me. I want to thank Hearing Voices for giving me the opportunity to spread my wings, and face the music, or should that be the voices.'