Category: My Blog

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…

Watching on madness

A slow smoke wafts across the moonlight, tonight young dreamers will dream. Some will swallow the hook of systemite mind games and be hell bent on, ‘Being someone’ or ‘’something’. The great slippery pole of career and ambition will poison their lives, till one day in their sixties or seventies they will ask, “Who put it there?” Making a mark…