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Chris Pitts

songwriter, poet, activist, and advocate for the elderly

  • Welcome!
  • Blog
    • My Poems
  • Music
    • Crippled Giant – Unleashed
    • Alan Gray
      • Charalambos
      • Four Clouds
      • Clactomania
    • Chris Pitts
      • This & That
      • Harvest Home
      • Looking for the Carpenter
      • All Chris’ Albums
      • Dry Leaves On A Bed Of Memories
      • Frozen Oranges and 60s Ice Cream
      • Herbert Moonslot and his Magic Umbrella
      • The Ancient Cowboy
      • Liverpool Bells
      • Nessie
      • Arnold Plum
      • Nayland – A Cuckoo Crying
      • Branch Line
      • Romeo’s Railroad Remembered
      • Holy Fields
      • Music Reviews
      • Chris Pitts the musician
  • Books
    • Broken Body
    • The Caring Game
  • British Underclass
  • Links
Chris Pitts

songwriter, poet, activist, and advocate for the elderly

  • Alan Gray
  • Albums
    • Crippled Giant – Unleashed
    • Looking for the Carpenter
    • The Ancient Cowboy
    • This & That
  • Arnold Plum and the Tramper’s Doom
  • Branch Line
  • Charalambos
  • Chris Pitts the musician
  • Clactomania
  • Contact Chris Pitts
  • Dry Leaves On A Bed Of Memories
  • Four Clouds
  • Frozen Oranges and 60s Ice Cream
  • Herbert Moonslot and his Magic Umbrella
  • Holy Fields
  • Links
  • Liverpool Bells
  • Music Reviews
  • Nayland – A Cuckoo Crying
  • Nessie
  • Welcome!

Death

Epitaph for a Lost Friend

Leave a Comment / My Blog / By Chris Pitts

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 …

Epitaph for a Lost Friend Read More »

The Forty Foot Friendship

Leave a Comment / My Blog / By Chris Pitts

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 …

The Forty Foot Friendship Read More »

Gentle as a clear summer evening

1 Comment / My Blog / By Chris Pitts

When I go people will say things. Don’t listen to them. People and friends love to put a nice full stop on things. Funerals are usually a theatre for the mourners. Very seldom do they relate to the dead. The body in the coffin will prove that silence speaks the truth. And what of me? …

Gentle as a clear summer evening Read More »

Recent Poems by Chris

  • The Caring Game
  • Broken Body
  • The Corners of infinity
  • Old Suffolk Chimneys Breathing
  • Happy Heartmas
  • Truth comes in strange disguises
  • The Name of the Game
  • A short poem for Christians
  • Meet me again in the midnight air
  • That man over there!

Music from Chris

  • This & That
  • Looking for the Carpenter
  • Dry Leaves On A Bed Of Memories
  • Frozen Oranges & 60s Ice Cream
  • Romeo’s Railroad Remembered
  • Liverpool Bells
  • Herbert Moonslot and his Magic Umbrella
  • Arnold Plum and the Tramper’s Doom
  • The Ancient Cowboy
  • Branch Line
  • Nayland – A Cuckoo Crying

Notable poems and pieces

  • Bill and Patsy
  • British Underclass
  • Arnold Plum

Search for previous poems

Recent Comments

  • Bill on Welcome!
  • Richard Myerson on Looking for the Carpenter
  • Nick Parry-Jones on Ted and Dave
  • Mark Sutcliffe on Links
  • Richard on The Room

Selected music

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