Category: My Blog

Ted and Dave

Ted and Dave were two farm labourers I worked with in 1967. They worked the Suffolk fields all their lives. The one thing that seemed never to happen was conversation. They would meet on the *Beet fields at six in the morning with their hoes, grunt at each other and start work. As a casual labourer I would start about…

We’ll meet by the Chip shop in Marmaduke Street

Story told to me by, Roger Small, great songwriter, now disappeared. Maybe we should all take heed? NEVER PUT OFF TILL TOMORROW WHAT YOU CAN DO TODAY   7pm 9th November 1969: The street was silent that night, the 1960’s bells still ringing in my ears, We knew the dream was over.  You said; “Why let nostalgia stagnate us? I feel…

The Room

Old room where ghosts play in the dust corners of a council house front room. Loud silence superimposed on torn wallpaper. Madness movements, ‘Trick or treat’ redundancies play out to nothing as the Thirteenth disciple maps the timeless rendezvous. Inaudible lonely commands are voiced as faces peer out from frozen curtains. There was such life in that room, that could…

Why I love and hate the 1960’s

There once was a sun shining cloudless day that spanned a decade (or so it seemed). Much has been written about this period of time, an idealized landscape has been created that paints a picture of forever candyfloss, and the young floating up to heaven on purple coloured wings! It hardly needs to be said, that the reality of these…

Thank you Brian Jones

Someone once said that, ‘History is written by the victors’ There are many who like myself, can see that failure or Defeat can sometimes have a positive effect on creativity. Had Brian Jones lived and got well, I have no doubt that out of his dark times and seeming failures, a great explosion of creativity would have emerged. He chose…

Praise Band Leaders and Hell Fire

“Pretty jesus let us praise, with candy floss and purple haze” But Hendrix wrote that didn’t he? Well, we’ll change the words for the bourgeoisie. Let us drown out all dissent with bass guitar and instruments, Designed to put off the passer by, Exchange brain for cornflakes and the noise of lies. “We know we’re right, we know, we know!…

Epitaph for a Lost Friend

I heard a newborn baby cry, I watched an old campaigner die, I asked myself why, why, why, I can’t get an answer,When the last man has laid down his gun, When my last serenade has come,When the last game has run, Into His glory day I want ancient wings, I want ancient strings, why? Because nobody wants to die Leave youth young glory day Hiroshima’s atom…

The Forty Foot Friendship

Crashing into the stench of gas, mud blood and human limbs everywhere, Ypres, the Somme, Passchendaele, strange Hells mingled with church bells, ‘Boy Tom’ and Archie forty foot between them, and forty foot away from an agony that blows human forms away with roll a dice luck. Shadows on a negative black and white horizon talk to ghosts while almost…

Sparkling Moonlight

Memories of a 1960’s summer The way through the woods, sparkling moonlightDark shadows seek attention, eerie tones whisper a secretThe flicker of an oil lamp in the gamekeeper’s cottage fearfulSinister beauty, the magic of a slum street tune, the wisdom of a sun street moon Magic madness on the never-ending evening path, wonderful counterfeit miraclesThe torn pocket of the trickster…

For those who still dare to say ‘Hello’

Soho square 1967, people eating their sandwiches. ‘Hello’ in the air as ordinary as the wind. I don’t know why that day sticks in my mind, maybe it was an England at peace with itself? Whatever was there that day as summer turned to autumn, it spoke of days and eternities, something in the mind of God, kept special. A…