In place of tears
Why not become the joker
In place of endless fears
Why not welcome in the passing clown
In place of freedom
Why not become the trapped
In place of lost kingdoms
Why not cast off the downbeat frown
In place of hope
Why not become with despair
In place of how to cope
Why not simply, surely, stand them down
In place of failure
Why not become belligerent
In place of derailed allure
Why not pose, as the talk of the town
Wednesday, 4 July 2018
Tuesday, 3 July 2018
One Life; Of All Of Those You Stole
O Penistone, o Penistone
You crushed me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You broke me
And I never ever saw you coming
Your black and red striped tie
Your grey and black peaked cap
Your blazer and long grey trousers
Your uniform approach to individual life
No you did not seek out to encourage me
You didn’t even let me wear
My ice-blue jeans, and brothel creepers
O Penistone, o Penistone
You lost me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You taunted me
And I never ever found you
Your parquet floor French classroom
Your physics lab with Bunsen burner
Your geography lessons all about the Tundra
Your buildings served as licence to demolish
You never did curtail that deputy headmaster
The bully, the evil one, the wretched bastard
He caned me, he slippered me, he lost me
You crushed me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You broke me
And I never ever saw you coming
Your black and red striped tie
Your grey and black peaked cap
Your blazer and long grey trousers
Your uniform approach to individual life
No you did not seek out to encourage me
You didn’t even let me wear
My ice-blue jeans, and brothel creepers
O Penistone, o Penistone
You lost me
And I never ever loved you
O grammar school, o grammar school
You taunted me
And I never ever found you
Your parquet floor French classroom
Your physics lab with Bunsen burner
Your geography lessons all about the Tundra
Your buildings served as licence to demolish
You never did curtail that deputy headmaster
The bully, the evil one, the wretched bastard
He caned me, he slippered me, he lost me
Monday, 2 July 2018
I Lost The Way
All those times
I criticised the intellectuals
Yet continued to buy their books
And quoted from them incessantly
You see the real deal is
That I don’t cut it
As an intellectual
Nor as a renaissance man
And I could blame it all
On late childhood bedwetting
Or extended puberty
Or difficulty losing my virginity
But the truth of it is I know
That one year did it for me
Yes, that one year
And then one other
I criticised the intellectuals
Yet continued to buy their books
And quoted from them incessantly
You see the real deal is
That I don’t cut it
As an intellectual
Nor as a renaissance man
And I could blame it all
On late childhood bedwetting
Or extended puberty
Or difficulty losing my virginity
But the truth of it is I know
That one year did it for me
Yes, that one year
And then one other
Sunday, 1 July 2018
A Gradual Movement
A new video*, not yet started
A germ of an idea
From our Bude vacation
We already have the photographs
A few poems
And maybe other writings
Kate has agreed to narrate
Aiming this time
For clarity to lead the dream
The process began
With thoughts of going to Finland
A slow film through the snow
To a cottage on its own island
Three hours drive
From Helsinki Airport
Of course that might still happen
But for now something more immediate
Without the need to trouble Sibelius
* Watch the video on youtube by clicking here
A germ of an idea
From our Bude vacation
We already have the photographs
A few poems
And maybe other writings
Kate has agreed to narrate
Aiming this time
For clarity to lead the dream
The process began
With thoughts of going to Finland
A slow film through the snow
To a cottage on its own island
Three hours drive
From Helsinki Airport
Of course that might still happen
But for now something more immediate
Without the need to trouble Sibelius
* Watch the video on youtube by clicking here
Saturday, 30 June 2018
Broadcast Buddhist
I listen to Krista’s questions
I listen to Stephen’s answers
I watch the light gather itself
I watch the stillness of the mist
I recognise all of this as part
Of life’s rich conversation
Yes, the discussion evolves
The light evolves, the mist evolves
I welcome the light
I welcome the mist
I recognise they also evolve
Within me, by me, for me
Stephen talks of Alain de Botton’s
Idea of an atheist cathedral
He goes with it, I go with it
Do we not all need spaces
Where we might connect
Where we might together read poetry
I listen to Stephen’s answers
I watch the light gather itself
I watch the stillness of the mist
I recognise all of this as part
Of life’s rich conversation
Yes, the discussion evolves
The light evolves, the mist evolves
I welcome the light
I welcome the mist
I recognise they also evolve
Within me, by me, for me
Stephen talks of Alain de Botton’s
Idea of an atheist cathedral
He goes with it, I go with it
Do we not all need spaces
Where we might connect
Where we might together read poetry
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