On this page are links to Blackburns' web sites. I will tend to ask permission before adding the link.

An excellent first link, Michael Blackburn's Found Coin Collection. Part of an intriguing site. The site is being updated at the moment and this page is part of the archive. Please let me know if the link disappears and I'll tie in with the new URL. 28th June 2001.

Dermot Blackburn, photographer.

Bill Blackburn, artist and poet. added May 2002.

October 2003, Robin Blackburn has got in touch with a selection of poetry:

Loving Autumn

You are that October night
When fall's first brisk frisky breeze blows in,
Tickling every bare neck and knee.
Important papers whisk out of sight,
The best-fixed hair goes flying free,
And everyone shivers except me --
I grin.

---

Arsenic

You disrupt
Every function in my
Body and
Replace
My life
With your own and
I can't say
I don't like it --
This addiction
To poison,
The arsenic
I need to feed upon
My cells and
Free me
From myself.

---

Por Mi Ciudad de Hogar
(English translation follows)

Grito por San Marcos --
Por sus calles sucios, por sus paseos oscuros,
Por las sombras caminando en la noche
Abajo de sus luces de colores.
Grito por La Señora Justicia,
Brillando en plata arriba de la plaza,
Mirando las vidas de la gente, como una santa.
Grito por San Marcos.

Grito por sus poetas, San Marcos,
Y sus pintores y mùsicos
Quen vienen aquì para hacer sus artes
En sus cafes y tabernos.
Grito por sus parques verdes y su rìo puro,
Donde los dolores estan perdidos,
Donde corazònes y besos estan secuestrados.
Grito por San Marcos.

Grito por sus familias viejas, San Marcos --
Los quien continuan la vida aquì,
En sus casas antiguas, con sus historias.
Grito por sus barrios, con sus casas de rosa y
amarillo,
Acerca del correo que divide la villa.
Grito por San Marcos.

Y cuando grito por San Marcos, grito por yo mismo,
Porque soy una de las sombras,
Soy una de las poetas, soy una de la gente de San
Marcos.
Està el hogar mio, donde recibo mi fuerza, donde vivo
con alegrìa.
Grito por San Marcos.

For My Home Town

I shout out for San Marcos --
For your dirty streets, for your dark alleys,
For the shadows walking in the night
Beneath your colored lights.
I shout out for Lady Justice,
Shining in silver above the square,
Watching the lives of the people, like a saint.
I shout out for San Marcos.

I shout out for your poets, San Marcos,
And your painters and musicians,
Who come here to make their arts
In your cafes and taverns.
I shout out for your green parks and pure river,
Where sorrows are lost,
Where hearts and kisses are stolen.
I shout out for San Marcos.

I shout out for your old families, San Marcos --
Those who continue life here
In their antique houses, with their histories.
I shout out for your barrios, with their houses of
pink and yellow,
near the railroad that divides the town.
I shout out for San Marcos.

And when I shout out for San Marcos, I shout out for
myself,
Because I am one of the shadows,
I am one of the poets, I am one of the people of San
Marcos.
This is my home, where I get my strength, where I live
with joy.
I shout out for San Marcos.
 

1st August 2001. For a list of many dead US Political Blackburns, see the Politician's Graveyard.