1060 - Music and musing

I’ve got a sore left eye. Resting tonight
Getting up early tomorrow morning
To look after Josie. Losing the fight
To write tonight, even though I’m feeling
Both bored and guilty. Once again fleeing
Responsibility. Consolation
In the Proms live on TV. This screening
Contains works by Berlioz and Mendelssohn
With such musical treasure, being alone
Is not such a big thing; rather, a flight
Through history, emotion, suffering…
I must mention the weather. Evening sun
After terrible downpours that have quite
Drenched July, and are still continuing
Thur 30 July 2009

1011 - Not so fantastic voyage

A night without alcohol's always fine
For getting things done, and saving money
Booze has the same drawbacks as heroin
Drugs slow thought and action, and are costly
So what attracts us to them so strongly
That not taking them takes so much effort?
They trap us physically and mentally
They're hard to justify by rational thought
They are a craving, they’re a dangerous sport
They make the dullest evening seem to shine
And then recede into sleep peacefully
The heart beats faster on its oars till port
Is reached, and the wild waves of tossing brine
Are calmed in deathly dark docks, finally
Thur 11 June 2009

951 - Brainstorm

My brain is disabled, I’ve writer’s block
And even thinker’s block, it’s shock and awe
Up there in my head, just this loud tick tock
That’s blocking out the things that came before
I saw you, a tick tock more like a roar
I’ll sock it to you, I’ll unpick the lock
I’ll peek into the keyhole in your door
I’ll make you jump, eyes wide shut with the shock
I’ll feel for you, I’ll make you reel and rock
Rattle your crockery, open your drawer
Plant seeds in your rockery, write the book
Of love again before the ticking clock
Starts sticking; stocking up my late night store
Of lightning, lighting up your shady nook
Sun 12 Apr 2009

883 - Lying to myself

I don’t make my bed, but I lie in it
It’s cosy and warm, a little noisy
My face on the pillow dribbles its spit
The digital clock says it’s half-past three
The night’s half-gone; not lonely, just sleepy
As flakes fall off and float onto the floor
Fresh skin metamorphosed to dust bunny
So painlessly done, I sleep on once more
Dreams undisturbed till I wake, and then for
A few seconds, a flashback to my split
From daytime’s fate to night-time’s fantasy
Where it belongs, a quasi-heavenly bore
Comfortable padded cell to self-restrict
Resisting unpredictability
Tue 3 Feb 2009

842 - Gettin' busy

Getting a lot done again, it feels good
It’s like putting more money in the bank
Although I can’t pretend I ever could
Save, but for funny memories that spank
Me when I’m lazy and content to thank
The past that passed me by in just a blink
Like hazy remnants of nights when I drank
Fragments remain, the rest pissed down the sink
Now that my head is clear, now I can think
Now I can lift my feet out from the mud
The road will soon be clear, with a full tank
Topped up with coffee or hot chocolate drink
The laughs are on me, least I hoped they would
Be. I’ll have won again, erased the blank
Wed 24 Dec 2008

835 - Song of the dark 2

Hooray! It’s nearly time to celebrate
The passing of the darkest day of all
You don’t need to spend wildly to feel great
Or pass out through imbibing alcohol
No, why not simply sit back, meditate
On how once again we survived the fall
And now our frozen fingers push the gate
Into the garden sheltered from the squall
Expecting sunlit lawns and time to wait
Joy frozen like a statue in the hall
Surreal escapism a rising trait
As light and heat fades like a parent’s call
Clinging to children, hoping they’ll placate
These chill winds, their bright cheeks smooth as a ball
Wed 17 Dec 2008

786 - Not decision time again

Now should I watch ‘Crash’ or Match of the Day?
The film or the football, or some of both?
But watching both will surely take away
The complete enjoyment of either, so
The only way I know that I can go
Is whichever way the cold November
Wind blows and froze the rain into the snow
As time went on. Nearly time. Remember
The show’s on soon, both shows; though dissimilar
They both have their appeal. Should I obey
My greed or my uncommon sense? They know
Two different truths that are both right somewhere
But not in the same place, I have to say
Should one or both give way? Don’t know, don’t know
Wed 29 Oct 2008

768 - Musing without boozing

Been thinking on and off ’bout love and death
Do either exist, or like life, are they
Hard to pin down? Maybe life is a myth
Or just a word that our egos obey
Our life comes from the fire and rock and play
Of subatomic particles, all dead
From that viewpoint we’re all still space like they
Although they create patterns in our head
That we enjoy awhile but then the dread
Develops. Love has gone, and even breath
Is shortening like hair that’s turning grey
Yet when there’s no point getting out of bed
We reach completion, work all done, and stiff
As we may be, that’s where we want to stay
Sat 11 Oct 2008

764 - The new doors of perception

An after-dinner coffee by my side
No alcohol today, none yesterday
I feel so real, no depressants inside
This is real life and this is the real way
Stumbling through messy undergrowth, a ray
Of sunlight through the trees, a patch of blue
Emerging onto open fields, away
From shadows into colours old and new
A fertile landscape with much more to do
More seeds to sow, crops to grow, in this wide
And panoramic space, this place to play
To plan, to build and then enjoy the view
Of orchards in rows, and the distant tide
In between, inviting with whitest spray
Tue 7 Oct 2008

732 - Horn of plenty

I saw those hooded eyes, that Buddha face
Of Charlie Parker; that's how Kerouac
Describes him as he blows his horn, in place
As usual next to Dizzy's brass attack
On TV in '52, with no crack
Of emotion or movement in his eyes
His hands somehow obeying brain on smack
Looking twice his age. And soon, when he dies
The coroner will estimate fifties
As his age, not merely 34. Space,
Too much space in his brain; needs to pour back
Some shit to fill some of it in; devise
Some braking mechanism, slow the pace
Of bird thought in his head, pull off the track
Fri 5 Sep 2008

692 - Schopenhauering

Read Schopenhauer while I was waiting
Intelligence just leads to suffering
Because we dwell on setbacks, all hoping
For better times, but life’s disappointing
Even when goals are reached, the joy’s fleeting
And as time marches on, health’s declining
Instead of living now, we’re just counting
The days and years down to the grim ending
While plants and animals are existing
Unconscious of their end or beginning
So that’s why the dolphin’s always grinning
If life was all pleasure, and pain missing
We’d need to hurt, to kill, to do something
To spice up dull existence, so boring
Sun 27 July 2008

686 - A flatful of dust

My sunlit screen’s all obscured by bright dust
Like blinding snowflakes frozen in mid-fall
The sun moves westwards as it always must
And now I’m finding that I can see all
As shadows mount the white screen and white wall
Goodbye sun, you’re no friend to thought process
You bring too much reality; you crawl
Into each dirty corner, dark recess
Training a spotlight on each filthy mess
Spilt food that’s hardened into yellow crust
In kitchen. Look at the floor in the hall
Such biodiversity. I’m impressed
Victorian-style cleaning maids, please just
Line up outside until you hear me call
Mon 21 July 2008

642 - It may not be true

It may not be true that late evening thought
Must be more negative, be more haunting
Often at work or shopping I get caught
In reveries about life’s more daunting
Insolubilities, answers wanting
Human debilities both mine and yours
Assuming guilt, consuming calm, ranting
Inaudibly, Don Quixote on horse
Or Ford Fiesta on motorway, course
Set for maximum upset, fuel bought
At high cost, the long strange trip exhausting
My patience with fools who expect applause
When all they do or say falls sadly short
Of nobility’s reach, the gap yawning
Sat 7 June 2008

640 - Attack at dawn

The morning light, and the first light of birth
Are they the inviting arms of a friend
Or the invading arms of Big Bertha
Firing her shells straight at our eyes; the end
Of all resistance. Curtains can’t defend
Against their speed and distance. Like trumpets
That call us on the day of doom, portend
Hell’s darkness falling soon, each sunray hits
The nerves like cannonballs hit walls, and its
Curtains for Fort Utopia, murder
Of innocent and not-so-innocent
The screams ring out as dreams are smashed to bits
And now our plight’s revealed, is it still worth
Our fighting on, or must we surrender?
Thur 5 June 2008

634 - Home thoughts from a bored

Ah, bliss! Off work, not missing the office
The morning time’s my prime time to do rhyme
I whizz along with song, I fizz, do biz
That’s mine, write sprightly lines in my own time
Sublime it is to climb where church bells chime
Bet Betjeman was no better, but a
Bit bitter, pint of bitter, hold the lime
That’s better, Betty Turpin, oh, and a
Hot plate of hotpot hits the spot. Totter
From pub tittle-tattle and grub and it’s
Cuthbert caught by the dibble, doing time
Look, Bert, you’re dribbling again, Alzheimer
Is dirty luck, no flirting here in this
Curtained care home, Dunroamin-under-Lyme
Fri 30 May 2008

626 - Drinking song

Been drinking till the dying light of spring
Dictated that we headed home by train
Or bus, or in my case, just staggering
And here I am now, safely home again
My eyes are aching and my thoughts in vain
Try to roam poetically but fall short
Of anything that could, long-term, remain
To establish itself in western thought
But maybe that’s because I haven’t caught
Enough sleep. Consequently I’m struggling
To compose eloquently, and the same
Tired nonsense is all that my thoughts have brought
I must end now, early night beckoning
My bed is calling where I’ll soon be lain
Thur 22 May 2008

624 - Complete control

When stubbing out my last cigarette I
Broke the cracked ashtray I inherited
From my old tenants - a sign from on high
That it’s high time I quit this bad habit
Although I’m not religious maybe it
Is some vague universal consciousness
Transmitting a message just for me - quit!
Or is it all in my mind? Do I bless
Myself when I pray, hope, decide or guess
What’s best to do, and then when I apply
Myself to do it, do I have complete
Command and control to achieve success
Or just a mess? Responsibility
Of such magnitude’s often avoided
Tue 20 May 2008

623 - Apathy

An apathy has struck into my brain
Something that most people will sometime feel
I even pondered retiring - not Spain! -
To spend more time on things that I have real
Interest in doing. But, of course, we all
Have families, and I must support mine
Realistically it would be a tall
Order to live on half my income, find
My way around without a car, trying
To buy or rent somewhere that’s cheap again
Like when I was a student, down at heel
Would I profitably use all my time
Or would apathy strike again, a chain
In a self-made prison tougher than steel?
Mon 19 May 2008

601 - Unamusing musing

Born talented or lucky? No-brainer
Would you like to have been Van Gogh? No way
Nor Rembrandt, Jimi Hendrix - the pain of
Manic depression never goes away
For long; and of the millions in the clay
The mute inglorious Miltons, the friendless,
The good, the meek, filled in that Edward Gray
Eulogised: would you be as they? Confess
You’d rather be financially careless
Nothing stopping you hopping on trains, a
Trans-Siberian trip, writing all day
No office in sight, musings in the press
No more amusing than pub talk. Stay in a
Top hotel. Tell us where (but we must pay).
Sun 27 Apr 2008

561 - Train of no thought

I knew that it would happen yet again,
And sure enough it did: I lay awake
Half the night, because of the early train
To Birmingham I’d to be sure to take
To get to the meeting. Of tax we spake,
Specifically of oils excise duty,
Allowing ourselves a short coffee break,
Scanning the Brum skyline (short on beauty),
The minutes taken by quite a cutie.
My concentration proved hard to sustain,
My interest in their comments largely fake,
But I did my best. Then back to New Street,
Then back to Piccadilly. Tried in vain
To write on the train. (The noise young girls make!)
Tue 18 Mar 2008