Category: My Blog

Harry had a fondness for Kangaroos

Harry had a fondness for Kangaroos but unfortunately he lived in Ruislip. We, (His Friends) knew that matters had reached a serious state, when he got a pantomime Kangaroo suit from the local repertory theatre and wore it each day. He once visited his mum in Harwich and got arrested for being; “A danger to shipping!” I think about Harry…

When the Way to Mermaid Island Was Clear

I once saw you a free young girl with flowers in her hair, on the way of enchantment where dreams came true.   That vast seaway, Cornish coves and seagull choirs, English heavens untouched by industries turmoil confusions.   Our secret place was Mermaid Island, across the sands to an unknown land, where only three trees grew and no one…

Dancing With a Crippled Giant

“I,” the vast uncharted landscape of thoughts and being. The world one day appeared in front of me when as a child I first became aware of “me”. What cruel thing could entwine this roll a dice existence on a map called reality? From childhood to youth, middle age, and lastly to the museum of old age and death. From…

Where Have All the Thinkers Gone

I well remember the age of John Osborne’s, ‘angry young men,’ rebelling against mummy and daddy’s country estate and lavish lifestyle. Most went home tail between legs and became something far worse, probably politicians, or products of a university campus, sweaty armpits and sit ins. It’s all a great yawn now and it’s naivety forgotten, like a child’s nativity school…

Paradise banned

A philosopher once said: ‘Before any society can exist it must first destroy the individual’ Of course what that quote does not say is that the individual can be dangerous, the individual can be power hungry. “Show me someone who’s not a parasite and I’ll go out and say a prayer for him” wrote the Young Dylan. Behind all the…

In Celebration of Brussel Sprouts

I hear the thunder of the 12:27 London train approaching Colchester station 1958, I think of Brussel sprouts. I hear Billy Cotton in my mind shouting,” Wakey Wakey” and I think of Brussel sprouts. Old men coughing and mumbling in the Rose and Crown at lunchtime, I think of Brussel sprouts. Alan Breeze singing, “Bangers and mash” and the smell…

The Knot Keepers Guest

Minds at war, in a universe of opinion. I think of onions in a pickle jar. The misery of man with ego expectancy, in the dead man’s dump of democracy’s three-card trick. Total failure, disguised as patriotic victories, caressing earthly labyrinths in wonderland, not aware of being naked. Take it as high as this universes power can reach, and you…

From Fairy Dyke to Nightingale Farm.  

Dust on the wind, malevolent sorrow in the ice-cold gutter of a dead heart, down the dirt road tracks to Nightingale farm.  Where once we knew days of belonging. I see now that immense Suffolk sunset, and the leaf mould path that led from chrickle wood down to that Stour valley wonder landscape, where shadows still tell out, we are…

The Clown of all glory

(A eulogy for Herbert Moonslot) Some people in St Ives don’t believe Moondust existed I wrote this for them. Chris As a dense evening sunset looms out on my generation, and an ensign flag is lowered by flower child soldiers, singing, “all you need is love,” I go to a strange dark railway station that once existed on a ancient…

The clowns of Pengelton woods.

The leafy path of yesterday that took us to the woods, Where at the gate of Pengelton, the orphans once stood. In wondrous walks, where dreams came true, against the odds of time. Now The Clowns of Pengelton, have gone to yesterday, and rhyme. From Sawdust hill to Sandpit lane, the moon portrayed its yellows. The glories of the heavens…