Coal Hole Poems…

Incline your head, passer-by, and peruse what you see. With some danger from passing perambulators. Not to mention incontinent sparrows and pigeons. here is a long thin coiling around. It isn’t a centipede, but an unrhymed poem – Free verse at that! What is it there for – Only to prove what a cultured place. This town of ours is – isn’t it? (John Heath Stubbs)

While looking for a coffee shop at Notting Hill, few months back, at Stanley Gardens I found this lovely coal hole just at the pavement of what seems to have been a antique shop. There lonely was this poem waiting to be admired. But only today I found out that a very artist group came across an idea and succeeded to complete. PAVEMENT POETRY is worthy to have a look and also they provide you with the map of the others poems, or should I say coal holes?

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Author: Dani Middleton

I was born in Brazil in 1981 and lived there for 23 years before emigrating to the UK in 2005. I had read about England’s history since a young age however I moved here purely due to the history of London itself. Everything in this city fascinates me; from its parks, pubs and buildings to street names, post boxes and bollards. Watching children “beating the bounds” or the rose ceremony, you can never be tired of London. I love the quirkiness of the little alleys, the secrets of the forgotten architecture and how wonderful it can be to simply turn a corner and suddenly find a whole new world. I have worked in some remarkable places in London: museums, palaces, galleries, archives, even digging for the MoL on the Thames foreshore but I now work for Tower Bridge where, daily, I can see the City from a different point of view. Working for the City, learning its history and stories makes me eager to learn more. London is a flowing, living organism, with the old and new together transforming it every day, but always with its history at your fingertips. One step, an intricate Victorian coal hole; another step, an old Police box; yet another, an office block built seamlessly onto an old roman ruin. I am just a girl, lost in London trying not to find the way out but a way deeper, further inside what makes this city so… special, so… unique, so… me. I am a Londoner.

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