Thursday 31 October 2019

Spirits of Caphouse


(For Halloween)


Silent showers speak,
Disembodied voices call…
Old soap! Ghostly poo!

Autumn draft or cold breath,
Door on history left ajar.

Scent of carbolic,
Singing round the bath house,
Rose just passing through.

There’s dirty side and clean side,
Old miner’s other side now.

Tin bath of coal dust,
Hot water and open fires:
No money, no soap.

Words, like lives, pass in spirit:
Scares! Blood! Coughing! Screaming!

Zombie pit pony
Hurries a tub of shadows,
Dark into darkness.

Souls left to wander alone;
How lost when the lamp goes out.

Look! Look! A huge rat!
How scary then is the thought,
What size is the cat?

What is there to be scared of?
“The Deputy!” A collier quips.

Scatter of ashes,
Last words, lost mates, list of those
Beyond the echo.

Spirits abide in the coal-black,
Voices creaking like timbers.

(This poetry chain was composed by Dave Alton of Coalhouse Poets using words and phrases contributed by visitors to the Bath House and the underground tour at Caphouse Colliery, National Mining Museum of England.)





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