A poetry zine using people's recollections of lost spaces around Tyneside.
8 pages · tap a page to read its text
The Bus Poets at The LATE SHOWS 2026
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First Impressions
I'd travelled all day on a train, From Germany to Geordieland.
I speak English, but they don't here...
NOGTOSM
B 1298
The thing that hit me was the smell of beer, So heady and so strong, In the centre of the city.
Smash Burger gave me the serotonin boost I needed, While rap music serenaded the two sides of a protest. But all in all, Newcastle's pleasant to be around.
I remember seeing the bridges when I was eight;
At Dunston Staithes, the 'coaly Tyne' transitions to birdsong.
All the while, the bricks remind me of back home.
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Know anything about Shieldfield's old shops? Remember Warner Bros. cinema under our feet?
What's that giant spoon near Seghill?
Is it New or High Bridge Street?
When the bypass was well in its cradle
I could see from the Armstrong Bridge
They were testing the options for stanchions
Must have looked like a monolith, Cause some wag with a can of spray-paint
Came and marked it '2001'
Which is twenty-five years in the past now
And all trace of the joke is gone.
Hydraulic Crane
Building bridges is expensive;
they have all these ideas which are never seen through to the end.
The end of it is always funding.
Streets in the sky leading nowhere and then the place just ended up a mess.
A mess of jackdaws roosting on The Cooperage, ramshackle steps, the whole thing falling apart.
A part of me expected it to be the same as when I left thirty years ago, but now they're busy pulling down down, down, what I once saw going up.
A permanent building site. Concrete:
it doesn't last as long as they'd like it to.
Acid-house, white powder in the old flour mill. The 'Get Carter' carpark was 'got';
Maybe they should have installed a bungee jump
S to recreate the scene?
Shepards department store became a Tesco carpark, Tesco started buying everything!
Silly Gateshead, Now even the flyover's being nibbled at.
At least Saltwell Working Men's club's seen
BALT a renaissance;
Grotty and graffitied, S I'd never gone, in.
Recently it's had a zhuzh-up;
Posters printed nicely.
Now local music wafts through the air, While the stale nicotine smell still lingers. The ghost of Gateshead past.
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TESCO
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There was a story about that ship with the revolving dance floor:
High
Felling HLO
Sch if you jumped on it you could get it wiggling.
Schi
It could carry some weight.
No longer ferrying cars from Cyprus to Greece its main route now was Edinburgh to Gateshead; the owner had two and every six months they would swap them over
C FLO to avoid the rates. 'I'm a ship,’ he says. 'No you're not,' said the Council.
'Well I'm going,' he says.
In the end it was too derelict to move.
The Bus Poets (Richard O'Brien and Adam Dixon) would like to extend their gratitude to all involved and the Late Shows for hosting another great event. For more follow Richard (@thelasttimeisawrichard) and Adam (@adamdixonarts) on Instagram!