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!DOCTYPE html>html>head>	meta charsetUTF-8>	meta nameviewport contentwidthdevice-width, initial-scale1 />	title>Hinkley Point, West Somerset Poetry Pin/title>	link hrefhttps://fonts.googleapis.com/css?familyRoboto:300,400 relstylesheet>	link href/css/style.css relstylesheet />	style typetext/css>		.header{ background-color: #e6b800; }	/style>				script>		window.channelHome  { latitude: 51.2001457, longitude: -3.1498480 };window.channelRadiusKms  5;window.poems  {    aD8ou: {        code: aD8ou,        latitude: 51.2081337,        longitude: -3.1556058,        title: Hinkley Point,        body: Hinkley Point\r\n\r\nWhat is the point of travelling to the southern sea\r\nWhen you are building an albatross in view\r\nOf Coleridge\u2019s bedroom window.\r\nMany would shoot this one down\r\nBut future generations will have to own\r\nThe waste that will be with us\r\nFor millennia to come.  Tidal and wind\r\nPower not on the horizon from\r\nSarah and Sue\u2019s Seat - a sign of defeat.,        special: false,        authorName: Patrick Corbett,        status: public_approved    },    oYYNm: {        code: oYYNm,        latitude: 51.1918449,        longitude: -3.1561179,        title: The worst day ever,        body: Dog walker\r\nCorn adventurer\r\nMud sticker\r\nTick giver\r\nSnail mover\r\nSnake finder\r\nFossil hunter\r\nBeach walker\r\nDead Coralina\r\nCrane spyer\r\nBlackberry picker\r\nHumbug finder\r\nBench sitter\r\nWorst day \r\nEver,        special: false,        authorName: Theo Brown,        status: public_approved    },    PZPii: {        code: PZPii,        latitude: 51.2062683,        longitude: -3.1530216,        title: Concrete,        body: Concrete and iron hearted \r\nReservations buried beneath arching cranes\r\nIdle after work long day\r\nHatches battened for oncoming tides\r\nBuses ferry though the beasts insides\r\nTie her down to this mangey mantle\r\nWish bone kisses like corset straps\r\nDockets signed by bureaucrats\r\nCommerce wheels go trampling laws\r\nDoor closes quick behind the benefactors\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Mr Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    iOReT: {        code: iOReT,        latitude: 51.1938171,        longitude: -3.1461799,        title: The New White Death,        body: The new white death\r\n\r\nI shook the hand of EDF\r\nPlague cross painted\r\nFor the new white death\r\nSome say now\r\nA nuclear believer\r\nMadam Curie convert\r\nA 3 mile deceiver\r\nA simpleton\r\nA muppet\r\nAn untrustworthy fool\r\nOr just another blinkered and used company tool\r\n\r\nBut as my eyes break through this meniscus\r\nScratch the party line and question the quo\r\nThe data weve been fed\r\nAnd repeating by rote\r\nWhich my generation\r\nRegurgitates and quotes\r\nVerbatim, neglecting a nod to the source\r\nA system as fixed as the gift and the horse\r\nAnd I am as much as any to blame\r\nComplicit and uncomfortable\u00a0\r\nIt draws the disdain\r\n\r\nStop legitimising nuclear madness\r\n\r\nWe are scared disorientated paralysed to the marrow\r\nToxic legacy\r\nThree headed dogs\r\nAborted pregnancys\r\nAnd mutated bugs\r\nTarred and feathered\r\nAll fingers pointing\r\nMortar failing from the policies jointing\r\n\r\nConfused we swill with sweat shop socks\r\nOrganic chicken and sub atomic clocks\r\nBroccoli smoothies tofu towers\r\nFix your soul with a work of hours\r\nTsunami rages over our best intentions\r\nWith delusions of solutions\u00a0\r\nAnd unconventional inventions\r\n\r\nWe are all the problem and hunger for more\r\nMyopia of legacy as we plunder the stores\r\nConsume it now\r\nFeed your gluttony\r\nFront row ticket for this star ship mutiny\r\n\r\nMortal questions\u00a0\r\nAwkward solutions\r\nTesting and re affirming moralistic absolutions\r\n\r\nWere just little people with tiny voices\r\nReluctant to take and make our choices\r\nThe noise of these issues deafens our senses\r\nWe throw up our guards\u00a0\r\nWith ignorant defences\r\n\r\nIts not that we dont care\r\nMore that our voices are lost on the air\r\nNew truths are needed\r\nDoctrines quashed\r\nBias comes bleeding\r\nOver paradise lost\r\nUn-friending daily\r\nOur perspective distorts\r\nLinked-out we tumbl from humanities courts,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    pxF7e: {        code: pxF7e,        latitude: 51.1963577,        longitude: -3.1495216,        title: Do you think,        body: Do you think if I \r\ndanced the tango, glittering scarf\r\nstamping, stopping\r\na rhythm of sorts;\r\ntheyd watch?\r\n\r\nDo you think if I \r\nstripped half naked\r\nfrolicking on the \r\nsecret sensors\r\nwould the camera quiver \r\nand steam up?\r\nTheyd notice.\r\n\r\nDo you think\r\nId entertain\r\nand energize\r\na sleepy day.\r\nSilent sensors woken up, steaming up\r\ntriggered.\r\n\r\nDo you think Id be watched\r\nMe watching.\r\nYou watching.\r\nYou watching me watching,\r\neyes and ears noticing\r\n\r\nMy moment of fame,\r\nmy fifteen minutes,\r\nthe world watching,\r\nbut I wander on\r\nquiet\r\nacceptance of\r\nthem.\r\n\r\nHelga Staddon,        special: false,        authorName: Helga Staddon,        status: public_approved    },    W2ZGw: {        code: W2ZGw,        latitude: 51.208271,        longitude: -3.1541941,        title: for a different game,        body: Torn green, beautiful baize\r\nruffled; revealing cracked earth\r\nbeneath the shadow\r\nof gigantic tatty boxes.\r\nPower now spent\r\nbut poison still within.\r\n\r\nThe new land is scared\r\nand the promised place a dream,\r\npower yet to be\r\ndelivered for release.\r\nWhat form of containment\r\nwill appear to hold our light.\r\n\r\nMemories of a field, a lane,\r\na pretty stone barn\r\ndrowned by the sound and\r\nthe vastness of the endeavour,\r\nbut quickly lost\r\nin the distraction,\r\noff shore breeze.\r\n\r\nFeel the enigma enter through\r\nwires and switches flooding\r\nthe living spaces\r\nwith reality, dragging our conscience\r\nback from that place\r\nto smooth the cloth.\r\n\r\nArrange the sets\r\nObserve the players\r\nMake the bid\r\nRelax\r\nFeel the power, the gamble\r\nTake the money,        special: false,        authorName: Mike Bradshaw,        status: public_approved    },    caY1U: {        code: caY1U,        latitude: 51.2040863,        longitude: -3.1516674,        title: PANTILES,        body: This isnt Tunbridge Wells\r\nNo Georgian colonnades\r\nNo royal connections\r\nNobody taking the waters\r\n \r\nThey came from the Netherlands\r\nLanded on Parrett shores\r\nExchanged for wool and cloth\r\nShipped along the waterways\r\n \r\nLater made in Somerset\r\nUnique in the west\r\nThe true Bridgwater tile\r\nThe flat-and-two-rolls\r\n \r\nTile ribs running down slopes\r\nA furrowed appearance\r\nKeeping all warm and dry\r\nThe bats can now call this home.,        special: false,        authorName: Richard Mackrory,        status: public_approved    },    BVoWA: {        code: BVoWA,        latitude: 51.2072868,        longitude: -3.1583622,        title: Hinkley G,        body: Blinding morning sunlight\r\non rippled sand still\r\nrunning with rivulets\r\nof star-pulled tide-drain\r\nthe old energy undated\r\nas yet, to be decommissioned.,        special: false,        authorName: Terry Gifford,        status: public_approved    },    BKxsd: {        code: BKxsd,        latitude: 51.2061691,        longitude: -3.1530781,        title: Boundary Line,        body: We walk along the boundary\r\nbetween nature and manufacture.\r\nWe see the changes happening\r\ntoo big to be missed.\r\nToo loud to be ignored.\r\nToo quiet to cause outrage.\r\n\r\nWe run our fingers along the fence,\r\nwe can see through,\r\nwe can hear through,\r\nbut cannot pass through.\r\nKeeping us out. Keeping them in.\r\n\r\nExploratory missions of creative minds are \r\npenned in,\r\nshut off,\r\ncorralled.\r\nPinned down and restricted to a single,\r\nsolitary line,\r\nwhile machines scratch and scrape at the surface,\r\nchanging the landscape for better or worse.,        special: false,        authorName: Lucy Summers,        status: public_approved    },    JpnsX: {        code: JpnsX,        latitude: 51.2085762,        longitude: -3.1582329,        title: Distant Murmurs,        body: Scrabbling across mosaic stones, \r\nfinding hidden rock pools.\r\nSeaweed popping beneath sand covered boots\r\nlike bubble wrap on birthdays.\r\nDisturbing whelks and sea snails small hands begin to freeze.\r\nWhat else would you expect from a wintery beach?\r\n\r\nSomewhere in the distance,\r\na murmuring of man-made giants constructing the colossal,\r\nwhich no amount of tuneful birdsong can drown out.\r\nIt punctuates a peaceful scene of waves caressing rock, \r\nwith a rumbling like far-off thunder,\r\nthreatening to clap.\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Lucy Summers,        status: public_approved    },    dK6gv: {        code: dK6gv,        latitude: 51.2071114,        longitude: -3.1597569,        title: Gone,        body: is like rain\r\n                             a winter   of years      moving\r\npast\r\ngrey dawns        patchy skies       a starling's circle\r\nfalling\r\nthrough           centuries                 past galaxies\r\nhere\r\nwatching        a southern arc  fade      rain folds in\r\ngone                is never repeated.,        special: false,        authorName: Andrea Robinson,        status: public_approved    },    jVd5m: {        code: jVd5m,        latitude: 51.2037125,        longitude: -3.1512811,        title: Lines Enmeshed at Shurton Bars,        body: Wind-blasting wilder sea-breeze moan unruly gale to shake a storm-vexed flame Flatholme obscured in grey not dark reddening from the Channelled Isle camera obscura on open cast in the eye\r\n\r\nSite-specific walk on the poem drops away \u00e2\u20ac\u02dccentre to you and your current location\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 somewhere yet nowhere invisible trace radiolocation poetry in the bandwidth\r\n\r\nPoetry reveals when within a short distance of the pin cluster a lugworm on the map\r\n\r\nExcavators prowl perimeter \u00e2\u20ac\u0153focus on sounds\u00e2\u20ac\u009d at soundless distance dipping the prow some toiling tempest shatter\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d bark digger trawls and tips heaving a new hill topsoil rich recalibration of skyline\r\n\r\nskylarks scattered rights of way erased the few farmers resettled bats and badgers tricked re-routed via one-way gates out to artificial setts tempted with honey-coated peanuts reduce THIS ISSUE DELAYING THE LENGTHY PLANNING\r\n\r\nThis is a Protected Site under section 128 of the Serious Organised Crime and Police Act 2005,        special: false,        authorName: Tilla Brading,        status: public_approved    },    ItHXo: {        code: ItHXo,        latitude: 51.2084351,        longitude: -3.1600361,        title: The Apathetics Have It,        body: Nothing to see?\r\nNothing to say?\r\nNothing to add to this trail head today?\r\nNo one with an axe to grind?\r\nNo one ready to share their mind?\r\nNo one with a view to be heard?\r\nNo one carrying the canary bird?\r\nPerhaps no one can be bothered to review\r\nAnd these plans are ripe to run askew!\r\nIs there no one out there carrying the torch\r\nObserve the observers and see the grass become scorched\r\n\r\nSo where are the poets\r\nThe authors\r\nThe smiths\r\nForging opinions\r\nTagging the shifts\r\nLacing boots to trace a day\r\nCutting across these doctrines I portray\r\nMocking and sacking these words I write\r\nPerhaps its time you illustrate\r\nMy wrong from your right\r\n\r\nGo shine that light\r\nShine that light\r\nShow me what I cannot see\r\nPen me words from the cultured and free\r\nYour soap box awaits\r\nYour shadow\r\nYour form\r\nNow go fill the board with your loathing and scorn\r\nOr fill it with love and laughter and life\r\nOr fill it with injustice and dogma and strife\r\nFill it with tears \r\nFill it with lies\r\nFill it with mirth\r\nAnd joy\r\nAnd slander\r\nMake it murder \r\nGo change its agenda\r\nBox it \r\nBreak it\r\nTest it\r\nFake it\r\nJust dont\r\nPlease dont\r\nLeave it sterile\r\nGo post your words to this three quarter mile\r\n\r\nDraw your rapier\r\nImpale your heart\r\nPolicies are pinned\r\nNow go take them apart\r\n\r\nGo take them apart\r\n\r\nGo\r\n\r\nTake\r\n\r\nThem\r\n\r\nApart,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    M11Ff: {        code: M11Ff,        latitude: 51.2058945,        longitude: -3.1529119,        title: Hinkley Point,        body: Eye catcher or blot on the landscape?\r\n\r\nClean, secure, affordable source of energy for five million homes\r\nCancer cluster in Burnham\r\nA way of tackling climate change\r\nThe only legacy will be a pile of nuclear waste\r\n42% in favour\r\n83% against\r\nPart of a long term economic plan\r\nA target for terrorism\r\nA great day for a our country\r\nChance of a catastrophic accident\r\n\r\nDo you tell the truth or do you deceive?\r\nWho exactly should I believe?,        special: false,        authorName: Richard Mackrory,        status: public_approved    },    KzKvL: {        code: KzKvL,        latitude: 51.2071075,        longitude: -3.1569781,        title: Workshop Walk No 11 Composite,        body: The following was written by five authors, all put on the spot and tasked with adding a rhyming couplet to the pin early January 2015.\r\n\r\nThe drivers of the trucks go beep beep\r\nThe sea birds scream cheep cheep\r\n\r\nThe squelch of boots and wellies on the rutted track\r\nNo gazing out to the vicious sea\r\nThe wind makes us turn our backs\r\n\r\nTo the left unspoilt land bowing in the hurricane\r\nTo the right arrogant robots show their disdain.\r\n\r\nFickle ivy rustles wildy \r\nWe hunker down timely\r\n\r\nGrist of Gortex and groat of crow\r\nHunker from the pressure flow\r\n\r\nThe resonance of every leaf and every blade\r\nAs we shelter low in this grassy glade\r\n\r\nThe sounds describes itself. sea ssssh\r\nThe sound describes itself, sea ssssh\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Poetry Pin Project,        status: public_approved    },    RmLae: {        code: RmLae,        latitude: 51.1972275,        longitude: -3.1498938,        title: Hinkley Point,        body: The sea wind shows no mercy here.\r\nIt tortures a few twisted trees\r\nand dessicates the hedges, \r\nwhich outline empty fields.\r\nRemembering its centuries, the drove road\r\nswoops across the valley\r\nin which the giant insects scratch\r\nthe earth to make ponds\r\nwhere strange eggs will be laid.\r\nThe fences say \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Keep out\u00e2\u20ac\u009d and rectangles\r\nlike black biscuits on stalks\r\neat the light to feed the watching cameras.\r\nThe bats are safe in their new house.\r\nWho knows what they may become \r\nwhen they can feast \r\non radioactive flies?,        special: false,        authorName: Geoffrey Bailey,        status: public_approved    },    CRPiq: {        code: CRPiq,        latitude: 51.2081451,        longitude: -3.1573322,        title: The Composite,        body: Two tone mountain and rigger lights\r\nShock yellow monsters unearthly bites\r\nCasts the winter shadow\r\nAll out of kilter\r\nAll out of kilter\r\nBetween sea and stone\r\n\r\nBat house besieged of robot sentinels\r\nMangy linkages in landscape strong\r\nNoisy dumpers and diggers throng\r\nThis tranquil spot\r\nThis tranquil spot\r\nLong shadows long\r\n\r\nBerlin Wall fencer\r\nPast and present tense the tenser \r\nHeavy waves on square cornered rock\r\nBeauty and the Beast\r\nBeauty and the Beast\r\nLiteracy land lock\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Poetry Pin Project,        status: public_approved    },    uaIIj: {        code: uaIIj,        latitude: 51.2085495,        longitude: -3.1540706,        title: Reach,        body: Yellow voices from vantages\r\nthat oversee construction\r\nreach Mabel and Fable.\r\n\r\nMabel and Fable\r\ntear between them \r\nshreds of a football's orange-stained leather\r\n\r\nlooking down on the tesseracts \r\nof Tetris-regular grey bricks\r\nthe wind shears my skin.\r\n\r\nMy hands burn holding this white card\r\naround which I gather words\r\nlike the thinnest strands of wool.,        special: false,        authorName: Matt Bryden,        status: public_approved    },    ciVUg: {        code: ciVUg,        latitude: 51.2034492,        longitude: -3.1511953,        title: Fracking Great,        body: I wrote this when challenged to respond to my forceful poem about Fracking -  When Shale Gas Comes to Pass So here is the counter argument, just for balance!\r\n\r\nRip up your missal\r\nCut your whingeing \r\nConfront your crutch\r\nOf kilowatt binging\r\n\r\nBetter this than a leaching reactor\r\nOr turbine arrays from outsourced contractors\r\nOr glazed over meadows\r\nAnd flooded valleys\r\nThis visual blight \r\nOf burgeoning tallies\r\n\r\nGet that gas\r\nSwap it with water\r\nThis is no pact with satans daughter\r\nThe gas youve been burning props up dictators\r\nIrons your clothes\r\nAnd boils your potatoes\r\n\r\nThis is the new fangled holy well\r\nThe gas is here beneath your feet\r\nIt can be extracted whilst the little ones sleep\r\nTheir toes are warm\r\nmy phone is charged\r\nMy fuel anxiety is more than halved\r\nMy conscience set at easy calm\r\nJust another crop from this diversifying farm\r\n\r\nI think its time we wrapped up our spoils\r\nAnd cash in resources from these sovereign soils\r\n\r\nBut better this than in some distant land\r\nWhere mothers bathe blisters on childrens hands\r\nFrom raking earth between sinks and cracks\r\nAnd toddlers are laced to siblings backs\r\n\r\nBetter we deal with home grown pollution\r\nAnd set in some credible fixable solutions\r\nWe have the ability \r\nThe knowledge \r\nThe hunger\r\nIt would be churlish to call this plunder\r\n\r\nNow Germany strikes a ban outright\r\nAnd we reel from their cars exhaustive blight\r\nSo suck up your issues\r\nAnd grasp this nettle\r\nIts the blood from our soils\r\nNow show me your metal,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    nxDet: {        code: nxDet,        latitude: 51.2023201,        longitude: -3.1509809,        title: When Shale Gas Comes to Pass,        body: The fracking issues\r\nThe fracking lies\r\nThe fracking deals\r\nThe kipper ties\r\nThe fracking hunger \r\nThe fracking views\r\nThe fracking scenes \r\nThe fracking news\r\nThe fracking science \r\nThe fracking choice \r\nThe fracking shale gas \r\nThe untapped resource \r\nThe fracking water\r\nThe deep pump tankers \r\nThe fracking landscape \r\nThe fracking bankers\r\n\r\nThe fracking decisions\r\nIn the name of progress\r\nThe fracking pledge\r\nOf CO2 redress\r\nIs carbon capture\r\nThe fracking solution\r\nAs emissions hike further\r\nWith fracking pollution\r\nThe fuel security\r\nOur fracking needs\r\nOur fracking hunger\r\nMy fracking heart bleeds\r\nThe fracking licence\r\nNow approved by the Queen\r\nWe\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re fracking at your leisure Ma\u00e2\u20ac\u2122am\r\nTill shale beds are laid lean\r\n\r\nWell frack the earth\r\nAnd frack up the walls\r\nAnd frack ourselves senseless \r\nWaving writs at county halls\r\nWell frack beneath our bedposts \r\nAnd frack beneath our stairs\r\nWell frack our way to hell and back \r\nAnd frack all woes and cares\r\nAnd when the oceans swell\r\nAnd engulf our pleasant land\r\nWell wonder why our ancestors \r\nDidnt scotch the fracking plans,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    YhaxO: {        code: YhaxO,        latitude: 51.2045898,        longitude: -3.1520801,        title: Greasing Palms,        body: Greasing palms \r\n\r\nBack in the day before Ben Holes Farm\r\nBack before EDF greased Lady Gass' palm\r\nBack before atoms were considered for smashing\r\nBefore errant school girls were punished by lashing\r\nWhen the holloway was cobbled and paved\r\nAnd the residents grew crops for local sea trade\r\nSpelt and barley whose husks still remain\r\nOur ancestors brewing and eating the same grain\r\n\r\nFragments sifted by modern trowel \r\nAnd through this dust we frame their lives\r\nOf locals who toiled beneath ancient skies\r\nWith broaches and boots adorning their dead\r\nAnd corpses too with severed heads\r\nOr legs removed from below the knee\r\nAs we lift them from their ancient beds\r\n\r\nPock-marked remains from diet so thin\r\nWe marvel at beakers placed within\r\nThe crook of the knees in the fathers grave\r\nBy hands of brothers sisters sons\r\nA line of genes which run and runs\r\nDown to the hands of those who exhume\r\nAnd collect their remains for card-board tombs\r\nAcid free boxes in warehouse stores\r\nFiled and bagged amongst further scores\r\nTheir relatives of ancestors who lived the same\r\nBuried their loved ones with the same pains\r\nWho lived on this earth and on spoils from the sea\r\nAnd died right here on the land of the free\r\n\r\nNow heavy plant erases this past\r\nThe ancient field lines their homes and hearths\r\nThe round house footings but resistive measures\r\nCaptured by technicians mapping these treasures\r\nAre now removed for new history in the making\r\nShelve the past for its the future we're breaking\r\nAnd all that's captured in this land\r\nFrom ancient works to quern stone grinds\r\nTurned and terraced \r\nRolled and topped\r\nDug and drained\r\nBurnt and mocked\r\nMashed and sealed with heavy plant\r\nAll made possible with a government grant\r\n\r\nWhich perhaps could have all been nipped in the bud\r\nIn one subtle contract some time ago\r\nIf the honourable Lady had just said no\r\n\r\nBut the irony in these noble finds\r\nWho's footprint stretches back across time\r\nWithout this costly intervention\r\nWould not have disturbed our ancestors slumber\r\nNor the bones of a further number\r\nAnd with it the knowledge and lineage\r\nAncient lives and relatives\r\nThose who toiled this land before\r\nTenacious hands running keel upon shore\r\nDepicting a portrait of who we were\r\nA blue print of who we are still\r\nAnd our graves to come in these tidy hills,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    QfkR6: {        code: QfkR6,        latitude: 51.1974182,        longitude: -3.1499619,        title: Lego Hats,        body: Lego hats on personnel\r\nHigh viz vests from Play Mobil\r\nI stretch my hand and play with scale\r\nAnd marvel at the plant detail\r\nA seven story child is not out of place\r\nKneeling in the sand with a grin on his face\r\nWith toys scattered around his toes\r\nHe pushes his diggers and picks at his nose\r\n\r\nTiny hard hats conspire in their three's\r\nIn dirt now devoid of grass and trees\r\nOperators connecting from teething years\r\nManly work all paid in arrears\r\nThe diesely dance of steely cutters\r\nRunning ditches building shutters\r\nPushing clay into ditches and flats\r\nWith real Tonka toys and Lego hard hats\r\n\r\nHungry machines with citrus tones\r\nLaying foundations for temporary homes\r\nMigrant workers who'll come in waves\r\nEfficiently labouring twenty hour days\r\nChinese Dutch French connections\r\nWith varied skills and diverse affections\r\n\r\nWork all hours \r\nSend the money home\r\nPay for the house \r\nAnd the life \r\nAnd the loan\r\n\r\nScrimp and save for a new set of toys\r\nA place with a yard and space for the boys\r\nA corner for a box\r\nTo fill with sand\r\nWhere toys can sculpt\r\nAnd re sculpt this land\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    mHKee: {        code: mHKee,        latitude: 51.2032661,        longitude: -3.1511309,        title: 11th October 2014,        body: Visibility, very good\r\nPressure, rising\r\n\r\nWe ascend the old way\r\nFollowing the tracks of the dawn dog-walkers\r\nPicking through a landscape of severed lines\r\n\r\nClose cropped billows pinned down by the ribbon of metal containment\r\nHedgerows divorced, wondering why\r\nThe land each side re-members itself\r\n\r\nMechanical scouring erases ancient settlements\r\nTo scraps of stories told by strangers\r\n\r\nBut we are the strangers\r\nWalking the rift in another's back garden\r\nTo the beach and back!\r\n(a jolly meander)\r\nChased home by the clouds to a cosy distance\r\n \r\nBack at the rift\r\nThey walk\r\nAnd talk\r\nAnd watch \r\nAnd worry\r\nAs a giant comes to stay\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Tracey Roberts,        status: public_approved    },    uynWZ: {        code: uynWZ,        latitude: 51.2070732,        longitude: -3.1537702,        title: Plain Winds,        body: Plain Winds                  Caro Bushnell\r\n\r\nThe walk across the open field is\r\nA sound of plain winds in a western where they turn two faced with a pistol crack, \r\nNothing the eye can see for miles.\r\nNot a single\r\nliving \r\nperson.\r\nAs I get closer I can see the sea and the sound of wind across open moor is\r\nTaken.\r\nBy the sound of shore and stone\r\nHits the sand\r\nAnd recedes like a scolded child, back, forth\r\nBut again, comes back to me\r\nFor forgiveness.\r\nMaybe. \r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Caro  Bushnell,        status: public_approved    },    EmA6z: {        code: EmA6z,        latitude: 51.1954002,        longitude: -3.148792,        title: The New Fence Offensive,        body: The diesel buzz loads the breeze\r\nIt's worrying sounds far beyond the ridge\r\nCarried down on mumbled gasps\r\nThe breath of change just over the brow\r\nPast the first fence all barbed and smart\r\nWe track along the holloway \r\nit's lazy curves they thread and wind\r\nMeander over centuries long\r\nWe walk this way and walk along\r\nAnd beside it threads the barb top fence\r\nIt's staples glimpsed in hedge back gaps\r\nWord pool nodes now fix our rhythm \r\nChanging thoughts to alternate paths\r\n\r\nAnd the diesel hum we had all ignored\r\nlost in the flow of the drove road cutting\r\nAnd there before us the site laid bare\r\nIt's random scoured and sculpted form\r\nExposing bleak and harvested earth\r\nUnfolds behind the wire some strong\r\n\r\nSix track dumpers with dunlop treads\r\nAnd caterpillar dozers scattered wild\r\nRoaming inside the compound fence\r\nRutting at their prowling edge\r\n\r\nStill in the flow of the drovers road\r\nThe company of fence now guides us down\r\nAnd behind her curtain the dozers labour\r\nTheir scooping buckets feather the earth\r\nWith tenderness unexpected\r\nThey caress the child in her early hoe\r\nAnd lay the foundations of her youth\r\n\r\nAt corner cut she turns back east\r\nAnd here she spawns defences more\r\nOne fence two fence three fence four\r\nOne fence \r\nThe new fence\r\nIs now the old\r\nFor a newer new fenced now stabs at the cold\r\nAnd as her spines are born into the earth\r\nA temporary fence controls confines\r\nwith another beyond below behind\r\nBigger taller stronger and green\r\nA tighter mesh to frame the machine\r\n\r\nAt last we cast across the cliff\r\nAnd hunker down before the bay\r\nIt's waves flop and wash away\r\nThe diesel hum the sound of the future\r\nbinding fences the suture stitches\r\nmarking land for untold riches\r\nDown here we write upon the rocks\r\nTiny words for paper tombs\r\nPrepped and printed on electric looms\r\nAnd the water mumbles her stayed refrain\r\nAgain\r\nAnd again\r\nAnd again\r\nAnd again,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    aTBLt: {        code: aTBLt,        latitude: 51.2012444,        longitude: -3.1501651,        title: #poetry,        body: New! Industrial! Credible! Shambles!\r\nSprung up behind these edible brambles,\r\nThrough slow natural growth they pull it,\r\nConstructive power,\r\nThe third spent bullet.\r\nOh these clever words!\r\nYour articulate poet, inspired is he by this walk,\r\nBut he doesn't want to discuss it,\r\nSo now you talk.,        special: false,        authorName: harry ward,        status: public_approved    },    ZS9g3: {        code: ZS9g3,        latitude: 51.2048683,        longitude: -3.1523111,        title: untitled,        body: Power of the Sun,\r\nInside, Fenced off,\r\nAccess to none.,        special: false,        authorName: harry ward,        status: public_approved    },    P2EDy: {        code: P2EDy,        latitude: 51.1958313,        longitude: -3.1492212,        title: Empty Words Filled,        body: So we took a walk,\r\nReading poetry,\r\nIncreasing our inspiration,\r\nAnd know-etry,\r\nSurrounded by nature and all its grow-etry.\r\nOur cultural carriage drawn by ideas,\r\nStopping only for lunch, the noble steed veers,\r\nAs the Sun from behind grey clouds peers,\r\nThe modern edifice spreads its nuclear fears,\r\nIn their hearts, the poets, shed peculiar tears.,        special: false,        authorName: harry ward,        status: public_approved    },    GfeKi: {        code: GfeKi,        latitude: 51.206398,        longitude: -3.1532552,        title: Balance,        body: Along the rift between grass and wire,\r\nwe walk a while, and while the hour.,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    OEeBi: {        code: OEeBi,        latitude: 51.1940384,        longitude: -3.1457558,        title: The Offering,        body: A stillness settles, \r\nWith a veil of dew\r\nSpun upon grass \r\nThat was not there before,\r\nSong of bird sounds out through\r\nThin leaved trees, and hits a mighty oak \r\nResists and dissipates out.\r\nFerris wheel spiders weave away\r\nAnd wait, and spin\r\nAnd wait away.\r\n\r\nScratchy grey squirrels run up an Ash\r\nAnd a Magpie or two bob at a roadside.\r\nTwo tone hued glossy mares canter in clover filled fields.\r\nA tumble stream continues,\r\nWithout rest.\r\nA sparrowhawk on thermals, sits.\r\nA Sun's last stagger, as brief heat comes, now,  \r\nA flash of fur lured, feathered flight \r\nCalls down and \r\nAway, this night. \r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Caro  Bushnell,        status: public_approved    },    HcSgK: {        code: HcSgK,        latitude: 51.2087669,        longitude: -3.1527402,        title: Amphibian,        body: AMPHIBIAN\r\n\r\nOnce we walked to land \r\n                                                    from\r\nWater we docked\r\nClosed off gills (and wiles)\r\nRetracted backs - legs grew down                           out of a swamp\r\n\r\n endless without sight\r\n blind in the night.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThen light shone therein, creation from a place,\r\nAmphibian.\r\nA beginning time of hopefulness, of air filled spaces and earth on faces        smothered\r\nUntil\r\nUnearthed.\r\nResolute to stand.\r\nUnderstanding is a key that breaks in the lock\r\nDestruction of fate, back unto the earth   from the mire and\r\nFire, baptism and desire; \r\nTo walk and swim    mass of duality.\r\nBegin.\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Caro  Bushnell,        status: public_approved    },    iQLuv: {        code: iQLuv,        latitude: 51.2023735,        longitude: -3.1509163,        title: Winter Prayer,        body:  WINTER      PRAYER                                                                       \r\n\r\nCrystalline ice\r\n                        hangs in the night knife air\r\nbewitching believers who visit at a waking moment. \r\nWhen stillness, settles - a lone flecked sparrow hops his way - stick shod marks left in a friendless snow\r\nthat descended without warning in the night.\r\n\r\nThis moment is taken by a bat, a cuckoo, a fox, a badger, an otter. Slow movement on crust covered earth; deliberate sinking in -shuffling off.\r\nPuffs of grey air above their mark, once\r\nblind in the night. \r\n\r\nEmbarrassed nude branches, embrace hung cut glass \r\n                                                                                          drip-\r\n                                                                                          \r\n                                                                            drip\r\n                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                into \r\n                                                                                                                  white-                                                                                                                            white wells multiple into rising light,\r\nthat has no warmth.\r\nDisturbed dust scatters while a bird lands, sings, shakes, moves on.\r\nFrozen berries fall so light,\r\nno imprint is left at all.\r\n\r\nAt the edge of a stream, shards of hard clearness spread, out, fail in the middle,\r\na current trickles down\r\nand around a defiant robin who dips in- out, in-out.\r\nIcing sugar topped grasses cover, sleeping spring bulbs,\r\nand worms whisper in a breeze Wake! Wake!\r\n\r\n\r\nEvergreens rest whilst others cocoon in a moment, between now and then. \r\nLeaves slumber tucked neath glacier blankets; gone brown, russet, mottled, disappearing, sustaining, dying.\r\nHush! quiet visitors settle now, as weak light retreats into night. \r\nThawed for a moment, frozen in sight. \r\nThis is our reason, our being, delight.\r\nAmen.\r\n\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Caro  Bushnell,        status: public_approved    },    d7lIZ: {        code: d7lIZ,        latitude: 51.1983566,        longitude: -3.1503401,        title: Farewell, Stony Crow,        body: Farewell, stony crow of my heart,\r\nThe twig snaps under the weight of your darkness.\r\nYou fly, fearful of the sun, but the rain will wash you.\r\nThe thick moss of your beak will thin and perish.\r\nThe rusted metal of your claws is flawed and will turn to dust.\r\nFly, stony crow, for the seasons change regardless\r\nAnd your feathers turn as white as snow.\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Amelia Hughes,        status: public_approved    },    eS23z: {        code: eS23z,        latitude: 51.1931763,        longitude: -3.1459811,        title: The Firm,        body: Cut the ribbon\r\nPrime the reactor\r\nPull the rods with the Chinese contractors\r\nAll smiles and shine to the chain reaction\r\nAtomic construction policy distraction\r\nRamp it up till it's critical\r\nBalancing parameters with the theoretical\r\nSystems run and systems set\r\nBlack marks in history are hard to forget\r\n\r\nSo who'll be the first to charge their phone\r\nSwitch on the light Hoover the home\r\nWho'll be the first to suck on this dial\r\nDrink from the elixir of Frankensteins vial\r\n\r\nWho'll be the one who clocks up the bill\r\nPlugs in their heater when the night turns to chill\r\nWho'll despair when the future arrives\r\nEnergy poverty - pounds in their eyes\r\n\r\n16 billion to prime this machine\r\nBut the profits oh the profits are far from lean\r\n\r\nAnd we need this, we need this\r\nFor the dying and the poor\r\nFor the little old lady with white wellies by the door\r\nFor the child born early in the plastic box\r\nFor the factories and museums and the charity shops\r\n\r\nFor the tired\r\nFor the cold\r\nFor the vulnerable\r\nFor the old\r\nFor the good\r\nFor the many\r\nFor the pious \r\n(If there are any)\r\nFor the darkness \r\nFor the ride\r\nFor the slowly rising tide\r\nFor the frail\r\nFor the infirm\r\nAnd for the directors of this firm,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    towfI: {        code: towfI,        latitude: 51.197506,        longitude: -3.1500151,        title: A walk down the rift,        body: The trail unfolds with fresh secrets stored,\r\nA depth of meadow now lush and bold,\r\nThe heat of this day misses the beat,\r\nSlipped away lazily, a gracious defeat,\r\n\r\nA pace, a state,\r\nA place, a fate,\r\nPursued by haze,\r\nUncoupled, un-phased.\r\n\r\nAnd the C sleeps in limbo state,\r\nMounds of earth pushed like peas on a plate,\r\nWe all await the maelstrom descent\r\nAn inertia of policy none can prevent,\r\n\r\nSo we count the common blues,\r\nThe spotted red moths with their curly cues,\r\nThe rills of the meadow rich and compact,\r\nIronically provided by this industrial pact.\r\n\r\nThe day is lost, now grains through the slot,\r\nA joyful addition easily forgot,\r\nA fragment of time others dismissed,\r\nA shake in the timber, a walk down the rift.,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    gxOua: {        code: gxOua,        latitude: 51.2076721,        longitude: -3.1579573,        title: Pebble Spots,        body: Rooted and weighted until the next Spring tide,\r\nSoft pink, mauve and cardigan grey\r\n\r\nToday the wind blows harsh.\r\nVicious sand flees from the ocean,\r\nCutting close to the land,\r\nBlurring the boulder beach.\r\n\r\nHead bent,\r\nScarf blown loose,\r\nYou relish in the wind.\r\n\r\nLook down,\r\nPlace feet with caution.\r\n\r\nThe polka dot pebbles in their chalky pallette \r\nReveal a second pattern.\r\n\r\nSpots bleed with darker hues\r\nThe softness is stolen\r\nThe pebble warmth leeched \r\nReplaced with dark reflection\r\nAnd an inner satisfaction. \r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Davina Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    khMfC: {        code: khMfC,        latitude: 51.207386,        longitude: -3.1568816,        title: Flippant Legacy,        body: My Children cannot go barefoot\r\nHere amongst the flotsam & jetsam\r\nA cheap, ill fitting shoe\r\nBought for a fleeting summer \r\nNow lies sun bleached and brittle\r\nPermanent, plastic and idle\r\n\r\nDo you remember the child\r\nWho ran down to the sand?\r\nHer memories are golden & linger\r\n\r\nYet here you taint ours\r\nAnd make us bitter\r\n\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Davina Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    AFwli: {        code: AFwli,        latitude: 51.1996918,        longitude: -3.1504014,        title: Dark Flecks,        body: Rain blasts neat,\r\nSweeping through the vale,\r\nDancing on the grass tips,\r\nHumming through the rails.\r\n\r\nRattling over coat hoods,\r\nAnd steeling over sands,\r\nDark flecks on pebble banks,\r\nSmooth and warm in hand.\r\n\r\nSilks of corn quivering,\r\nIn this bowing chase,\r\nScavenging rills, and dancing drills,\r\nScatter in its grace.\r\n\r\nFlexing life and trailing light,\r\nSwift madness of this motion,\r\nAuthors scratch at their pads,\r\nTapping the commotion.\r\n\r\nPatterns sketched, patterns traced,\r\nHeady frictions part displaced,\r\nBack we crawl to our slumber care,\r\nAnd leave the corn all dancing there.\r\n\r\nWeve pocketed the memories,\r\nlike badges on lapels,\r\nAnd slide back through the words once more,\r\nTo capture vital spells.\r\n\r\nThe gravel crunch, the holloway,\r\nThe green tunnels, the serpents spray,\r\nThe wire edge, the steady lament,\r\nAnd all before the storms decent.\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    MVQyt: {        code: MVQyt,        latitude: 51.2079468,        longitude: -3.1619561,        title: The fold,        body: Come out here to find a breath,\r\nAnd feel the water fold it's caress,\r\nAnd break the mould upon your chest.\r\n\r\nA simple noise, white and clear,\r\nCrooked nest of thoughts for shaping,\r\nCombs the knotted consciousness aching.\r\n\r\nFar from the screen time and it's dry embrace,\r\nDistant again from the social clasp,\r\nBroad enough space for thoughts to bask.\r\n\r\nFlotsam gathers, sorted sun dried,\r\nThoughts and memories similarly shifted,\r\nBully-some wind, sand-packed and sifted.\r\n\r\nThe mold is broken once again, \r\nNoise-some and soothing slackens the breath,\r\nGlad for fold of the oceans caress.,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    RJQNk: {        code: RJQNk,        latitude: 51.202282,        longitude: -3.1512597,        title: Shurton Bar,        body: At Hinkley Point did EDF\r\nA stately power plant decree:\r\nFrom whence, some iffy water ran\r\nThrough pipeline measureless to man\r\n Out to the Bristol sea.\r\n\r\nSo twice five miles of fenced-off ground\r\nWith lights and cameras girdled round.\r\nBeyond, lie meadows bright with sinuous rills,\r\nHere blossoms a lonely lampshade-bearing tree;\r\nAnd here are footpaths ancient as the hills,\r\nEnfolding sunny spots of poetry.,        special: false,        authorName: John Scholes,        status: public_approved    },    SptIH: {        code: SptIH,        latitude: 51.2082748,        longitude: -3.155165,        title: Promises,        body: The sea is hiding its blue\r\nsaving it to show off later\r\nfor better effect and applause.\r\n\r\nThe sky is meeting the sea\r\nwith the same silvery grey\r\nNot wanting to stand out.\r\n\r\nOne small boat merges\r\nEnveloped in a ghostly mist\r\nLoitering on a promise\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Flora Dowling,        status: public_approved    },    MBVJi: {        code: MBVJi,        latitude: 51.2027893,        longitude: -3.1509807,        title: Stop and look,        body: To walk by Hinckleys site \r\nIs to stop and look\r\nBear witness - shine a light  \r\nTo brave the elements and endure \r\nGusts of wind and rain \r\n\r\nBehind the fence a hostile place\r\nSquat buildings gaze imperturbable\r\nHypnotise for miles \r\nVast structures reek odourless \r\nSpiritual paralysis \r\n\r\nMore giant structures may come\r\nThe current proposal \r\nIs Radioactive waste without disposal \r\nKeep ones distance\r\nPath of least resistance\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Flora Dowling,        status: public_approved    },    CLyih: {        code: CLyih,        latitude: 51.2054062,        longitude: -3.1525686,        title: Cowslips,        body: Winters last blast \r\nCreeps  in from the sea \r\nAnd snaps the bones\r\n\r\nWhile Springs early tease \r\nMoves to steal the soul\r\nWith cowslip -covered banks\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Flora Dowling,        status: public_approved    },    MIqJV: {        code: MIqJV,        latitude: 51.2021637,        longitude: -3.1507447,        title: Hedgerows,        body: These hedgerows are from ancient times \r\nWhere once Wordsworth and Coleridge\r\nIn halcyon days mused \r\nOn fields, meadows and sea \r\n\r\nNow land is marked for construction\r\nWhere soon Engineers and Investors \r\nIn futuristic times count\r\nOn power, profit and formula \r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Flora Dowling,        status: public_approved    },    ktStd: {        code: ktStd,        latitude: 51.2073402,        longitude: -3.153856,        title: Morning walk,        body: Beneath the grey sky\r\nHinkley casts a cold shadow\r\nAs we wander by\r\n\r\nBarbed wire looms haughty\r\nWhile Land laments its dignity\r\nAnd we tread softly\r\n\r\nNot a place to linger\r\nNo promise of harmony \r\nNature...Nuclear\r\n\r\nBut all interconnects\r\nWhat will the grandchildren say\r\nTo man's Albatross\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Flora Dowling,        status: public_approved    },    YWPjq: {        code: YWPjq,        latitude: 51.2083511,        longitude: -3.1545911,        title: The Choice,        body: The edge is near,\r\nThe time is right,\r\nTo leave and go\r\nWithout a fight.\r\n\r\nThe choice is mine,\r\nI feel the lump.\r\nDo I stay behind\r\nOr make the jump?\r\n\r\nI turn and face the smiling B\r\nA place full of technology.\r\nAnd all within Gods sacred Isle.\r\nI sit and ponder for a while.\r\n\r\nThe choice is always here to make\r\nTo run away or take a break.\r\nI leave behind the edge so near\r\nAnd face my future without fear. \r\n\r\nElaine Necchi,        special: false,        authorName: Elaine Necchi-Ghiri,        status: public_approved    },    CECQp: {        code: CECQp,        latitude: 51.2075005,        longitude: -3.1566455,        title: The Dog and the Child,        body: Golden haired child\r\nRuns free, runs wild.\r\nAll problems forgot\r\nNo need for a clock.\r\n\r\nBlack and white dog\r\nBarks loud at a log.\r\nBut the log doesnt move,\r\nSo its time for a snooze.\r\n\r\nRabbit appears in the crisp, cool air\r\nHe sniffs for a while, alert and aware.\r\nThe dog spies the rabbit and sets off in haste.\r\nThe child, with delight, joins in with the chase.\r\n\r\nElaine Necchi,        special: false,        authorName: Elaine Necchi-Ghiri,        status: public_approved    },    qkmiK: {        code: qkmiK,        latitude: 51.20084,        longitude: -3.1500261,        title: For Nick,        body: For Nick\r\n\r\nI am the wind in your hair\r\nThe grass beneath your feet\r\nThe rain on your face and\r\nThe leaf on every tree.\r\n\r\nI am the song of each bird\r\nThe snap of every twig\r\nThe sound of the water as it trickles \r\nthrough the stream.\r\n\r\nI am the smell of the land we both love\r\nThe sun where it kisses your skin\r\nThe gossamer touch of the butterfly \r\nWhen it comes to rest on your hand.\r\n\r\nI am the deer that runs fleet of foot\r\nThe drone of the bee on the wing\r\nThe light of the star that shines at night \r\nThe moon that appears in your dream\r\n\r\nWalk with me.  Talk to me. \r\nKnow I am here.\r\nFor wherever you wander\r\nI will be near. \r\n\r\nElaine Necchi\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Elaine Necchi-Ghiri,        status: public_approved    },    I03NY: {        code: I03NY,        latitude: 51.1961365,        longitude: -3.1493859,        title: The Green Corridor,        body: A green corridor links this world to ours\r\nFox holes, trees and golden flowers\r\nChain link fence and warning signs\r\nKeep Out. Keep Back. Trespass Not.\r\nStay Out. Stay Back. Forget This Spot.\r\n\r\nButterfly hovers, the air is fresh\r\nThe grass so soft, but the fence is mesh\r\nKeep out. Keep back. Venture not.\r\nStay Out. Stay back. Forget this spot. \r\n\r\nThe tractor drones, the children play,\r\nSome people walk along this way,\r\nBut once again, the same refrain.\r\nKeep out. Keep back. Linger not.\r\nStay out. Stay back. Forget this spot.\r\n\r\nElaine Necchi ,        special: false,        authorName: Elaine Necchi-Ghiri,        status: public_approved    },    ii3f5: {        code: ii3f5,        latitude: 51.1941872,        longitude: -3.14678,        title: Waking thoughts,        body: In my nightmares I swim in the ponds,\r\nAmidst the isotopes and their fiery blue legumes.\r\nOr down in the heat of the boiler space,\r\nCooled suit all cosy on the reactor face,\r\nInspecting quadrants inside the machine,\r\nCave divers gene, but way more extreme.\r\n\r\nAnd down in the basement where the cooling ponds rest,\r\n100 days calming before the flask dispatch,\r\nAnd again in my nightmares I swim down there,\r\nAmidst the isotopes, in their fiery blue flare.\r\nWith my sievert count beyond the blister,\r\nAnd the safety chants of procedure, procedure.\r\n\r\nAnd still in my mind I swim down again, \r\nPearl diving freely with no mortal pain,\r\nAnd snatch at the pellets in their innocent glow,\r\nBreathless amidst the boronated blue,\r\n\r\nNightmares come during my waking day,\r\nMy thoughts compress this stuttered re-play \r\nAnd again I sink in the boronated water,\r\nRepeating and reliving my self suffocating slaughter.\r\n\r\nThe bubbling of consciousness, the fear of fear,\r\nShake the mood and memory clear.\r\nAgain and again I find myself drifting,\r\nInto the poisons of memories shifting.\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    Ro2VR: {        code: Ro2VR,        latitude: 51.1969833,        longitude: -3.1497359,        title: Kitchen crumbs,        body: This poem was written about the first workshop walk, and getting told off for touching the fence!\r\n\r\nOur legions ride with pens in their spines, \r\nand the track roles and slides like ancient times.\r\nBadger, Deer, Starlings boiling,\r\nKissing gate to the chain-link coiling.\r\n\r\n'Keep your hands off the fence, don't touch the wire'\r\nHollow smiles, efficient attire.\r\nCircling slow the compound trail, \r\nMonkey got words, Monkey got tail.\r\n\r\nPast the bat house, and the Tacky-shade collector,\r\nPast the laminate maps, part eaten by nature.\r\nDown to the geo with the clints and the grikes, \r\nboulders smashing by little tykes,\r\nPaddling free in the murky brine,\r\nBeneath scoured stone Bars slumbers Serpentine.\r\n\r\nAll change, all change, as we scatter to scribe,\r\nscratching in the sand, drawing words from this tide.\r\nOver the wash and across the Bars it comes,\r\nAnd we mop up its moods like kitchen crumbs,\r\nCaressing us fleeting, we pen the words for keeping,\r\nPoetry Pin prose for posting and tweaking.,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    qSa4m: {        code: qSa4m,        latitude: 51.2003975,        longitude: -3.1500795,        title: Edible Temptress,        body: Binge the fruit, read the labels,\r\nRip at the tide, believe the fables,\r\nDeeply medicated in our dotage,\r\nDeath by diagnosis, an endless prognosis.\r\n\r\nHealth and youth peeled away,\r\nBy slithers of time, a feebling foray.\r\nWe ration our passion, \r\nMeaner life in a fashion,\r\nCut our cloth with a simple caution,\r\nBinge the fruit, now seven a day,\r\nPurge the machine to eradicate decay.\r\n\r\nThe fix-ya elixir, the tonic, the truth,\r\nThe white coats and surgical, the statistical proof,\r\nMix the mitochondria, borrow the genes,\r\nLab and splice, part lice part machine.\r\nExtend, repair, devolve, despair,\r\nDistrust, disfigure,\r\nAll new, all vigour,\r\nRight here, right now,\r\nNew gods, new vows,\r\nNew gown, new spleen,\r\nNo tomb, all clean.\r\n\r\nKeep the faith, believe the hype,\r\nCount your pills, smite the blight,\r\nWatch your wrinkles fade away,\r\nSecure the medical up-sell today,\r\nKnow more, feel less,\r\nIngest the edible temptress.,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    X5jbj: {        code: X5jbj,        latitude: 51.2067223,        longitude: -3.1535985,        title: The Buildings Lament,        body: I look towards the Boundary Fence,\r\nTo a world thats new and exciting.\r\nWhere starlings dance and daisies grow\r\nAnd deer run free through the \r\nWarm suns glow.\r\n\r\nThat place is beyond my Boundary Fence\r\nAnd its one that I cannot reach.\r\nStill I watch and I wait, but the way\r\nIs blocked, with the lock set fast \r\nOn the gate.\r\n\r\nAnd through the Fence I see people walking\r\nFree, with their heads in the sun.\r\nBut although I am here, in the light and the glare\r\nTheres no kindness, just fear, as they stand \r\nAnd they stare.\r\n\r\nI yearn to be free of this prison of hate\r\nTo work and to light and to heat.\r\nBut all I can do is stand and grow blue\r\nAs I listen for news\r\nOf my fate.\r\n\r\nElaine Necchi,        special: false,        authorName: Elaine Necchi-Ghiri,        status: public_approved    },    Htv4c: {        code: Htv4c,        latitude: 51.2077255,        longitude: -3.1562378,        title: Jackets,        body: Red - the jackets of the six men fishing,\r\nPreparing their bait in the sand.\r\nBalanced along a steep rocky spine,\r\nThey stand with their rods in a line.\r\n\r\nYellow - the jacket of the old man paddling\r\nAlong the shore in the waves,\r\nCap on head, trousers to knee,\r\nHe stands with his dog in the sea.\r\n\r\nPink - the jacket of the young girl sitting\r\nSerene and alone on a rock,\r\nWind on her cheek blows hair undone,\r\nAs she sits with her face to the sun. \r\n\r\nGone - the jackets of the children playing;\r\nJumping on rocks, all worries forgot.\r\nWith heads unadorned, no shoes on their feet,\r\nThey run to where sea and sand meet.\r\n\r\nElaine Necchi\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Elaine Necchi-Ghiri,        status: public_approved    },    hPdF7: {        code: hPdF7,        latitude: 51.1934242,        longitude: -3.1458139,        title: Nine Minutes,        body: The wiry hair the pasty shaped shoes\r\nThe inability to read interpersonal clues\r\nThese symptoms surface from excessive focus\r\nNo break in thought no time to waiver\r\nEquations to tune and dial up our creator\r\n\r\nPerplexing visions of a future with fusion\r\nAnd water syphoned systems for power hungry ablutions\r\nTouted again as too cheap to meter\r\nAbsurdities still uttered by courderoyd teachers\r\n\r\nOur present is clotted with nuclear fission\r\nA legacy of toxicological derision\r\nNow terrorist targets awaiting catastrophe\r\nBloated dependants so paralysed by atrophy\r\nEager to fear what we dont understand\r\nVisions of mushrooms and doom laden plans\r\n\r\nInside this shiny vision machine\r\nWhere the plasma swirls at twenty-three million degrees\r\nAnd hydrogen isotopes mixes and curls\r\nWhere deuterium and tritium combine and unfurl\r\nWith a promise of ten fold power provision\r\nFor now out of reach and beyond the collision\r\nWith machines which burn hotter than the heart of the sun\r\nIn an Oxfordshire village tapping research funds\r\n\r\nBut a tiny voice\r\nA growing number\r\nBegs a question and questions the labour\r\nBut they are ignored as the grants are granted\r\nAnd Tokomak tiles are refitted and supplanted\r\nBlue collar boffins with calculus ties\r\nFlexing the theoretical to practically apply\r\nThis coal face of science with marketable solutions\r\nAs the oceans keep warming with our carbon pollutions\r\n\r\nBut still the machine in all its glory \r\nIf rolling consistent and super stable\r\nCould provide the juices supply the power\r\nFor cup a soup dinners and hot electric showers\r\nBaby monitors digital clocks\r\nBranded toasters and stay pressed socks\r\nWay more than we could possibly consume\r\nUnlimited power\r\nUnlimited room\r\n\r\nExcuse me sir\r\nIgnored from the stalls\r\nBut the sound is rising\r\nRaising the calls\r\nOf the gathering complexity of these gargantuan systems\r\nIs all to boil the humble kettle\r\nWhich pushes a turbine and throws around metal\r\nSpinning magnets around copper coils\r\nAmidst boiler suited technicians and their daily toils\r\nCracking this cunundrum still decades from deploy\r\nThey fire at the plasma and ignite their toys\r\n\r\nAgain a tap upon the physicist shoulder\r\nWho points at an experiment a little bit older\r\nA ready made only nine minutes away\r\nAnd accessible through the best part of the day\r\nA reliable source conveniently parked\r\nAbove Oxfordshire fields and good peoples hearts\r\nResidential roofs now efficiently tiled\r\nAnd feeding the grid or voltaic piles\r\nSo ripe to harvest and easily neglected\r\nSolar arrays angled\r\nelectricity collected\r\nOnly nine minutes away and your work is done\r\nStretch on your lounger soak up the sun\r\nLet it warm your lizard skin\r\nBring your talents to this ancient worship\r\nSet your transept to an old courtship\r\n\r\nBut if. . \r\nBut only. . \r\nIf we could. . \r\nWouldnt it solve. . \r\nAll our problems and future ones too\r\nDiscoveries revealing the cosmic glue\r\nAnd the point where practice meets our theory\r\nAnd coffee eyed physicists become slightly teary\r\nSo deep in the promise to save the planet\r\nWe blinker our visions and temper our talents\r\n\r\nWho knows \r\nWho knows\r\nIf these fashion-less saviours\r\nWill provide something tangible through all these labours\r\nOr whether the knowledge\r\nIs the end in itself\r\nAnd the marketeers can keep on wanting the wealth,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    JF8vW: {        code: JF8vW,        latitude: 51.2077713,        longitude: -3.1540599,        title: The Walkers Companion,        body: I can sense the high sky\r\nThere is no need to look up\r\nToday my eye seeks pleasure in ruffled green,\r\npinpricked with innocent blue\r\nand a ditzy of Daisies.\r\n\r\nInsistent they command my attention.\r\nWith Summer shrill\r\nthey tumble and skitter.\r\nDance upon naive feather.\r\n\r\nIn their joy they encompass that blue.\r\nCross my constant companion.\r\nHe who has not deviated from my side\r\nas we amble to the sea.\r\n\r\nYet, when we reach the cliff edge\r\nHe does not leap down\r\neager to warm his spine against smooth rock.\r\nHe has promises of power to protect\r\nAnd strides out East.\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Davina Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    pcBVw: {        code: pcBVw,        latitude: 51.2068977,        longitude: -3.1572361,        title: Better places.,        body: There are better trails to walk than this,\r\nBetter places to drag your skiff.\r\nBetter places for your shadow to define,\r\nBetter places to distill the sublime.\r\n\r\nBetter places to fight the foray,\r\nBetter places for your soul to stray.\r\nBetter places with a doppler shift,\r\nBetter places in the cloud and the mist.\r\n\r\nAnd at trails end, sits the filth and the soot,\r\nLittering hedge backs, and cracks, and nooks.\r\nWhere the curve of the grass, meets the splash of the brine,\r\nAnd there the collection of mans filthy shine.\r\nBroken boots, a rotten chair,\r\nIndustrial flotsam, end of life care.\r\n\r\nSo there are better places not far from here,\r\nBetter places without joyless tear,\r\nBetter places to heal your soul,\r\nBetter places far from this hole,\r\nBetter places to catch the breeze,\r\nBetter places to pass with ease,\r\nBetter places for your mind to stray,\r\nBetter places for your family to play.,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    w63wN: {        code: w63wN,        latitude: 51.1990318,        longitude: -3.1505086,        title: Rights and Wrongs of Way,        body: The Right of Way still wends its way\r\nbetween these spiky hedges -\r\nhere the shepherds drove their sheep \r\nand goods came from the sea.\r\n\r\nStraight alongside, strictly ruled\r\nthe new fence struts its sharpness -\r\nhere youre noticed, watched and warned -\r\nKeep Out - the path has been diverted.\r\n\r\nBeyond the field an aerial mobius \r\nfree-willed vortices of starlings -\r\nthere an unheard murmuration startles\r\naway over muddy old lane and clean steel fence.,        special: false,        authorName: Richard Westcott,        status: public_approved    },    vATpC: {        code: vATpC,        latitude: 51.1940308,        longitude: -3.1479766,        title: Manifested Irony,        body: On land which has kept and sustained us;\r\nBy waters that ceaselessly roll;\r\nWere asserting our claim to dominion\r\nOver forces we cannot control.\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Steve Pledger,        status: public_approved    },    yPMaU: {        code: yPMaU,        latitude: 51.1966591,        longitude: -3.1496637,        title: The Hypocritical Protestor,        body: You considered making the banner\r\nThat said no to nuclear power.\r\n\r\nYoud step out with the march \r\nShout the rallying chant.\r\n\r\nVoices heard\r\nConscience cleared\r\nHomeward bound.\r\n\r\nFill the kettle\r\nFill the bath\r\nCheck the mail & Twitter feed.\r\nDownload images\r\nSpread the word\r\nConnect.\r\n\r\nI was there \r\na power to the cause.\r\n\r\nReconnect\r\nI was there.\r\n\r\nConnections made\r\nFlip the switch & load.\r\n\r\nReload\r\n\r\nReconnect\r\n\r\nPause\r\n\r\nConnection made.\r\n\r\nRethink\r\n\r\nScroll back\r\n\r\nBanner unmade.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n,        special: false,        authorName: Davina Jelley,        status: public_approved    },    S9JEs: {        code: S9JEs,        latitude: 51.1946335,        longitude: -3.1485021,        title: Beginnings,        body: Setting out\r\nPoems poised\r\nin a mind full of expectation\r\n\r\nWe tread the path of old and new\r\nAnd the mud slides under us, as\r\nQuietly, the land makes way for change,        special: false,        authorName: Tracey Roberts,        status: public_approved    },    D7k6t: {        code: D7k6t,        latitude: 51.1922569,        longitude: -3.1461954,        title: What Shakes?,        body: Just bite it, and write it,\r\nWord it, then site it,\r\nPark your mark to this path,\r\nFor the next to read on their digital pass,\r\n\r\nThe canvas awaits, \r\nWhat shakes, what breaks?\r\nA trail of traits, \r\nAll shapes and mistakes.\r\n\r\nOnly here can you gather the rhythm and flow\r\nThe dips in the trail or the rain on your brow.\r\nUntethered and exposed, released and refreshed\r\nWord-smith extrusions, juices freshly pressed.\r\n\r\nSo, stitch it to the trail,\r\nPut a notch in the rail,\r\nPost it, haste it,\r\nChain it, and paste it.\r\n\r\nThe canvas awaits, \r\nWhat shakes, what shakes?\r\nThe canvas awaits, what shakes?,        special: false,        authorName: Christopher Jelley,        status: public_approved    }}	/script>/head>body>div classmasterWrap>		    div classheader>    	h1>Hinkley Point, West Somerset Poetry Pin/h1>                    button idbtnAdd classbtn disabled>                i>/i>                span>Add Poem/span>            /button>                /div>	div classpage>        div idmap-container>    div idmap_canvas>/div>/div>div classstatusReport>    i classgps>/i>    span idlocationReport>GPS location unavailable./span>/div>div classpoems>    h2>Nearest Poems/h2>    div classpoemsWrap>        p idnearestPoemsTip classtip>The 3 nearest poems within unlocking distance will appear here./p>        span idnearestPoems>				/span>    /div>    div classunlockedSubBar>        div>            h2>Unlocked Poems/h2>            p classrevealedReport>span idunlockedCount>0/span>/span idpoemCount>62/span> poems unlocked/p>        /div>        div>            p classsortLabel>Sort poems by.../p>            div classsortOptions>                button idbtnSortOrderUnlocked classbtn>Order unlocked/button>                button idbtnSortAlpha classbtn>A-Z/button>            /div>        /div>    /div>    div classpoemsWrap>        p idunlockedPoemsTip classtip>All unlocked poems will appear here./p>        span idunlockedPoems>/span>    /div>    span idlockedPoems>		    	div classpoem locked idpoemaD8ou data-poemcodeaD8ou>Hinkley Point/div>div classpoem locked idpoemoYYNm data-poemcodeoYYNm>The worst day ever/div>div classpoem locked idpoemPZPii data-poemcodePZPii>Concrete/div>div classpoem locked idpoemiOReT data-poemcodeiOReT>The New White Death/div>div classpoem locked idpoempxF7e data-poemcodepxF7e>Do you think/div>div classpoem locked idpoemW2ZGw data-poemcodeW2ZGw>for a different game/div>div classpoem locked idpoemcaY1U data-poemcodecaY1U>PANTILES/div>div classpoem locked idpoemBVoWA data-poemcodeBVoWA>Hinkley G/div>div classpoem locked idpoemBKxsd data-poemcodeBKxsd>Boundary Line/div>div classpoem locked idpoemJpnsX data-poemcodeJpnsX>Distant Murmurs/div>div classpoem locked idpoemdK6gv data-poemcodedK6gv>Gone/div>div classpoem locked idpoemjVd5m data-poemcodejVd5m>Lines Enmeshed at Shurton Bars/div>div classpoem locked idpoemItHXo data-poemcodeItHXo>The Apathetics Have It/div>div classpoem locked idpoemM11Ff data-poemcodeM11Ff>Hinkley Point/div>div classpoem locked idpoemKzKvL data-poemcodeKzKvL>Workshop Walk No 11 Composite/div>div classpoem locked idpoemRmLae data-poemcodeRmLae>Hinkley Point/div>div classpoem locked idpoemCRPiq data-poemcodeCRPiq>The Composite/div>div classpoem locked idpoemuaIIj data-poemcodeuaIIj>Reach/div>div classpoem locked idpoemciVUg data-poemcodeciVUg>Fracking Great/div>div classpoem locked idpoemnxDet data-poemcodenxDet>When Shale Gas Comes to Pass/div>div classpoem locked idpoemYhaxO data-poemcodeYhaxO>Greasing Palms/div>div classpoem locked idpoemQfkR6 data-poemcodeQfkR6>Lego Hats/div>div classpoem locked idpoemmHKee data-poemcodemHKee>11th October 2014/div>div classpoem locked idpoemuynWZ data-poemcodeuynWZ>Plain Winds/div>div classpoem locked idpoemEmA6z data-poemcodeEmA6z>The New Fence Offensive/div>div classpoem locked idpoemaTBLt data-poemcodeaTBLt>#poetry/div>div classpoem locked idpoemZS9g3 data-poemcodeZS9g3>untitled/div>div classpoem locked idpoemP2EDy data-poemcodeP2EDy>Empty Words Filled/div>div classpoem locked idpoemGfeKi data-poemcodeGfeKi>Balance/div>div classpoem locked idpoemOEeBi data-poemcodeOEeBi>The Offering/div>div classpoem locked idpoemHcSgK data-poemcodeHcSgK>Amphibian/div>div classpoem locked idpoemiQLuv data-poemcodeiQLuv>Winter Prayer/div>div classpoem locked idpoemd7lIZ data-poemcoded7lIZ>Farewell, Stony Crow/div>div classpoem locked idpoemeS23z data-poemcodeeS23z>The Firm/div>div classpoem locked idpoemtowfI data-poemcodetowfI>A walk down the rift/div>div classpoem locked idpoemgxOua data-poemcodegxOua>Pebble Spots/div>div classpoem locked idpoemkhMfC data-poemcodekhMfC>Flippant Legacy/div>div classpoem locked idpoemAFwli data-poemcodeAFwli>Dark Flecks/div>div classpoem locked idpoemMVQyt data-poemcodeMVQyt>The fold/div>div classpoem locked idpoemRJQNk data-poemcodeRJQNk>Shurton Bar/div>div classpoem locked idpoemSptIH data-poemcodeSptIH>Promises/div>div classpoem locked idpoemMBVJi data-poemcodeMBVJi>Stop and look/div>div classpoem locked idpoemCLyih data-poemcodeCLyih>Cowslips/div>div classpoem locked idpoemMIqJV data-poemcodeMIqJV>Hedgerows/div>div classpoem locked idpoemktStd data-poemcodektStd>Morning walk/div>div classpoem locked idpoemYWPjq data-poemcodeYWPjq>The Choice/div>div classpoem locked idpoemCECQp data-poemcodeCECQp>The Dog and the Child/div>div classpoem locked idpoemqkmiK data-poemcodeqkmiK>For Nick/div>div classpoem locked idpoemI03NY data-poemcodeI03NY>The Green Corridor/div>div classpoem locked idpoemii3f5 data-poemcodeii3f5>Waking thoughts/div>div classpoem locked idpoemRo2VR data-poemcodeRo2VR>Kitchen crumbs/div>div classpoem locked idpoemqSa4m data-poemcodeqSa4m>Edible Temptress/div>div classpoem locked idpoemX5jbj data-poemcodeX5jbj>The Buildings Lament/div>div classpoem locked idpoemHtv4c data-poemcodeHtv4c>Jackets/div>div classpoem locked idpoemhPdF7 data-poemcodehPdF7>Nine Minutes/div>div classpoem locked idpoemJF8vW data-poemcodeJF8vW>The Walkers Companion/div>div classpoem locked idpoempcBVw data-poemcodepcBVw>Better places./div>div classpoem locked idpoemw63wN data-poemcodew63wN>Rights and Wrongs of Way/div>div classpoem locked idpoemvATpC data-poemcodevATpC>Manifested Irony/div>div classpoem locked idpoemyPMaU data-poemcodeyPMaU>The Hypocritical Protestor/div>div classpoem locked idpoemS9JEs data-poemcodeS9JEs>Beginnings/div>div classpoem locked idpoemD7k6t data-poemcodeD7k6t>What Shakes?/div>		    /span>/div>h2>Instructions/h2>div classinstructions>    p>The goal of strong>Hinkley Point, West Somerset Poetry Pin/strong> is to share and discover poetry by walking with your device in a localised zone. /p>    p>Each pin on the map represents a poem.br>        To read, just walk over to a pin.br>        The poems title will then appear in the Unlocked Poems list.br>        Tap the title to read./p>            p>To add your own poetry, tap the "Add Poem" button in the top right.br>        Your device must have a data connection and you must be within the zone at the time of writing./p>        /div>!-- Oooo what a dirty hack, force the browser to download these images -->img classpreloadHack src/img/largeSpinner.gif>img classpreloadHack src/img/tick.png>	/div>!-- /.page -->    div stylewidth: 100%; text-align: center;>img srchttps://cms.poetrypin.info/storage/sponsors/hinkley.png stylewidth: 100%; max-width: 375px; alt>/div>    div classfooter>        div classadminButtons>            a target_blank href//poetrypin.info/terms/>Terms/a>            a target_blank href//poetrypin.info/contact/>Contact/a>            a href/cookies/>Cookies policy/a>        /div>        div classexternalPoetryPin>            a target_blank hrefhttps://twitter.com/poetrypin>                img 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hinkley.poetrypin.info	2024-11-07	185.194.90.16

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Domain > hinkley.poetrypin.info

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DNS Resolutions

Port 80

Port 443

Subdomains