DARREN J BEANEY

Author Feature - February 2021

Darren J Beaney has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Brighton. He is part of a collective that host a bi-monthly spoken word night in Brighton - Flight of the Dragonfly (on Zoom during Lockdown and the COVID-19 restrictions).  He is a hopeless/useless romantic!     He cuts his own hair.    He enjoys music, predominantly punk rock, but a lot of other sounds as well, his favourite bands are Eastfield and Citizen Fish.  He likes a good lyric and a rockin' raucous gig!  His favourite author is Orwell.  He has developed a thing for Greek mythology!  He loves Marmite and appreciates a good pint of craft IPA.  He lives in sunny East Preston on the West Sussex coast, with his lovely family, their rescue cats - Annie and Eddie, rescue dog Woody and Hamirez the hamster.  He has had poems published by The Hedgehog Poetry Press, Indigo Dreams Publishing, Parthian Books, Dempsey & Windle, Poetry NI, The Four Parts Press and The Angry Manifesto. He has had highly commended poems in the 2019 PENfro Book Festival Poetry Competition and in the 2020 Brian Dempsey Memorial Competition. He was shortlisted as a finalist for the Write Bloody UK 2020 full collection competition. His debut pamphlet Honey Dew (a collection of 21 love poems) was published by The Hedgehog Poetry Press in December 2020.

SURFIN’ GIRL 

The blue haired girl once surfed through the park, 

secure in her fashion. Floodlit eyes 

shining on improbable catwalks, 

parading her tone. Inflating the hearts 

of those she invited to climb on her board.

Rinsing aqua to blond, nothing dumb 

in that, her glow radiated

like polished platinum, leaving 

an iridescent trail so precious 

that he followed adventurous,

trekking. His quest to collect all her smiles.

Then au natural, stunning brunette 

radiant like her eyes that sparkled 

brighter with each tide. Rousing, she added 

to the understanding of many, multiplying 

knowledge, explained the value of π, 

leaving memories that cannot be taken away.

Now with a few hairs of grey she leads 

as a mother. Inspiring! Her love 

is uncomplicated with no rules 

and she cares. Her love is like oceans,

her affection forever gently lapping against our shores.

In years still to come she may be white

like teachers’ chalk. She may change colour

again to mask the signs of passing years. 

But she will never disguise what is inside, 

she will always ride the waves like

the blue haired girl.

FIRST DATE MERRY-GO-ROUND

The past woke from a rotating slumber

and the world heard it ask to be forgotten.

He speaks a language heard at punk rock recitals, reserved for eccentrics 

and absent academics. He sports an illiterate haircut, dressing 

as if old clothes are the sum of a fresh imponderable equation.

She beams all halo, winking at him with a blinding devilish twinkle.

She glides, alluring, captivating - kicking arse in daring dancing boots.

The buzz took over ways of walking, tales of talking

sights for seeing, the tune of thinking.

The mares and stallions eventually gallop 

into a mix of golden embers - part dozing sun, 

a bit waking moon. The enticing shingle has cast its songs and poems. 

Another match made, a very real adventure set to begin.

And he knows what comes next.

If he tells her, will she agree?