Merv Read/Read the Rock-Poet 

Swansea UK.

Merv Read/Read the Rock-Poet - I was born in Catterick Camp, Richmond Yorkshire, UK.  My father, Herbert Selby Read, was a pharmacist in the Royal Army Medical Corps and a poet who was born in Liverpool.  He wrote the pageant for the Festival of Britain and a poem entitled, “The Ballad of Catterick Camp.”

Poetry and songwriting must be in my genes.  I have written poems and songs since I was a teenager.  I was a member of the progressive rock band Nightfall One.  Then, I moved into production and produced the Welsh band Heatwave who released, ‘Freedom Loving One-Eyed Man’ and ‘999’ which were songs that I had written.

I produced The Swansea City Football Club classic “Swansea City” written by Roger Evans.

Two years ago my book of illustrated poetry was published called, “It’s Not All Black & White” by Merv Read/ Read the Rock-Poet.  The illustrator was the artist Angela Tiley.  I wrote a song called “RAINBOW/Next to Your Heart” in which the title is dedicated to my mother and which was released, last month, on ‘You Tube’ by a local Welsh School Choir, Ysgol Gymraeg Llangennech, as a “Virtual Choir.”.  I am, as creative now, as I have always been and the reason I have not stated dates in my biography is that I detest ageism and the physical labelling of individuals without finding out, who the person really is!

Poem completed 17^th June, 2020.

A Lyrical-Lockdown Lament

I’m writing, ‘A Lyrical-Lockdown Lament’,

as the only exercise I’m likely to get.

My mind’s in control, while my pen takes a stroll

across this page of A4, with a locked up front door

and Covid-19 is the worst thing I’ve seen

since BREXIT arrived on the screen.

My head’s in this yoga position.

Now my mind’s in a frame of contrition.

My thoughts: “all alone, I’m locked in my home

and a term is erased, exams are not staged.

Education; Education; now damnation!”

So, what will the future hold

and from whom will the stories be told?

From this lyrical-lockdown lament,

in revising retrospective events,

we can hide and keep safe in a bubble

while our world’s in such terrible trouble,

‘Shaking of hands’ is a bone of content:

so-called friends have the virus to kill you.

Now Boris: the man who’s in charge

reigning chaos, in our country at large.

No planning, no thought, no shops, nothing bought

but a two metre rule is a distancing tool

spacing social, domestic and leasure.

He’s a robot! In binary traction,

he’s lost without film, let’s have “Action!”

No forward-planning! Is our future in space?

Twenty-twenty’s the year of ‘historic disgrace’:

discrimination, inequality, ageism and poverty.

We are not perfect beings, but we’ve love, hopes and dreams

in ’A Lyrical-Lockdown Lament!’