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 […]
We’ll meet by the Chip shop Read More »
My existence is bequeathed to me by a blood red sunthe gaiety of youth and the Passiontide of friendship ‘s that have never cost me a penny…….. I am sick of Cosmopolitan indulgent choirs ……………Our Brave young in wounded hells listening to stagnate sympathies, living in pain unending. Ugly thoughts where the righteous are forsaken,
(For the class of Lower Remove) They sent us to a place to learn the way of, “Right from wrong”We lived in fear of tomorrow because it would be emptied of God and even the hope of mercy.We were nothing more than weeds to be cut up and thrown on the compost heap.I have not
Things seemed right at first Read More »
Wizz Wizz the cars speed by, one step from life or death, only God will know road rage clones all with a hatred of the oldon the old A 1 they once had picnics in the central reservationnow the machinery of, “Getting there”, wherever “There” maybe, echo’s damnations advance into the bowels of hellBowels that
The afternoon car ride Read More »
“I feel great,”“I’m in the world for myself, and I don’t give atoss about you or anyone else!”“There is a roulette wheel turning, spinning inthis fates circus, when it’s on my side I rejoice,but when it is not, I curse.I give to Red Nose day, people see me, I makesure of that.My whole world revolves
The “I” is on the march Read More »
Does madness heal the incurable when all else is made of quicksand?who made this sainthood of the stupid?a race is taking place with only one runner,the runner is called absurdity,what creature, what laugh among the dying invented this?I search for meaning among the hurtling hope for atomorrow ………………..
Does madness heal? Read More »
High winds, you on your bicycle looking at moody Suffolk skies, years ahead of you in the wandering youth tea cup leaves of fortune. Your Songs and poems like leaves dancing to mystical tunes, life’s tragedies hidden in the wild hopefulness of our yellow barn masquerade, so much ecstasy before us, cloud riding, sunset lovers,
The lights of Old Compton Street dazzle the girl as she window dances. spellbound men pop-eyed ogle!Jessica the relief dancer has got stuck at the Spar supermarket check-out,Alison just has to keep dancing until she is relieved by Jessica, she is bored out of her mindand stressed, she needs to get back to the kids
I wake up every morning, I am human and I am alive and I thank God that I was able to retire in 2008. Forty years of work place misery is surely time enough to, “Know my song before I start singing” * Thoughts inspired by Bob Dylan As I look back at the hostile
Banished from reason Read More »
The Walker Many years ago on a lonely road a man went walking and as he walked, he thought about the meaning of life. He came from the east and he walked with a determined firm intent. As he trod the ancient towpath by the sea where the ocean roared and huge waves crashed on