959 - April sun

A spell of sunny weather and life seems
More beautiful: the land, people, buildings
Driving through London, even though it teems
To absolute excess, becomes thrilling;
Round three and four lane roundabouts, racing
Round Wellington and Marble Arch, Park Lane
Like Italians, sun in our eyes blinding
That was Saturday. Sunday, down the lane
To Mobberley with Josie; pub’s the same
As it used to be: food the stuff of dreams
Josie riding her bike, and I’m jogging
Today, Monday, me and John took the train
Up to Glasgow, where even here it seems
Sultry….Like you, the person I’m missing…
Mon 20 Apr 2009

957 - Down and up

Another Saturday in London town
Last week I went with you on Megabus
Well today it’s with Louis I’m back down
Taking him back to continue studies
At Westminster Uni, Harrow Campus
But first, it’s off to see another game
The Rams are visiting Crystal Palace
So come on Derby, it’d be a shame
If our season spluttered out like a flame
On a birthday cake candle when it’s blown
After I’ve dropped him off with little fuss
It’s up the motorway once more; those same
Old sights and red rear lights that have all grown
Familiar over years… Then once more, us
Sat 18 Apr 2009

950 - London wanderings

An early morning embrace and coffee
A drive to Manchester multi-storey
A walk to the bus-stop, nice and early
As the sky lightened, too early for me
But today was a special holiday
The coach to London was very busy
The driver sped us down the motorway
And in no time we were walking away
From Victoria to Buck Palace… Today
No changing of the guard… well, that’s okay
Then on to Portobello Road: they say
It’s good for browsing, although I did pay
For gifts, clothes… Duke of Wellington for tea
Looked round Tate Modern, then a drink or three
Sat 11 Apr 2009

901 - Transports of delight

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my good God
I so, so nearly missed that bus back home
Been down to London again; things seemed good
Plenty of time after the Millwall game
To reach Victoria coach station again
But at Stockwell I chose the wrong platform
Not Victoria, but a Northern Line train
Is what I hopped on to! With some alarm
I instantly knew my mistake: the harm
Done, had to stay on till Oval, but would
There be time to catch the coach, my mind groaned
Like metal wheels on metal tracks, forlorn
Ran through Victoria… Arrivals! No good!
Departures…Gate 20... Wave driver down!!!
Sat 21 Feb 2009

873 - Trouble with my tubes

Took the Megabus, Manchester-London
Five quid to go, and five to come back home
Saw Louis, and a match at Dagenham
But missed the first goal, as we had to come
The long way round because, this weekend, some
Repairs were being done on certain lines
Such as the District & Circle: so glum
Through West Ham, East Ham, Barking, as these signs
Kept passing oh so slowly, and the time’s
Past kick-off time, and I’ve let down my son
Waiting at Dagenham East. But the sum
Total of goals was five: they scored four times
At our end, in the end. Dagenham won
Beating Rochdale 3-2 (by aching gum!)
Sat 24 Jan 2009

853 - Student studies

My daughter’s twenty-first has come and gone
Congrats to P for reaching that milestone
Today I took son L down to London
To start his second student term alone
Takes me back to my second term… I’d mown
Off most of my hair, a trendy new cut
Shaved back and sides. The next step was to own
A black raincoat, Echo-style, which I bought
From Affleck’s Palace, and some shirts I thought
Were suitably dazzling, from Withington
And Didsbury charity shops. L’s own
Approach seems to exclude clothes and haircut
He’s blogging rather than out having fun
P’s back to the Sorbonne. I’ll visit soon!
Sun 4 Jan 2009

834 - Account of a day off work

The neighbours seemed to shag three times last night
Or maybe just three attacks of bedbugs
That made the mattress shake and creak; all quiet
Voicewise, though - no female moans reached my lugs
Despite these interruptions, aural tugs
From my own Land of Nod, I slept quite well
Got up at nine-twenty and had some glugs
Of juice, turned on TV, watched Jeremy Kyle
Exposing and exploiting chavs a while
I shaved, washed, dyed my hair, the sky less bright
As noon drew on; played swing, including Duke’s
And Artie Shaw’s top tunes. Can nearly tell
Where notes are on guitar with eyes shut tight
Then collected son from London uni digs
Tue 16 Dec 2008

761 - View from Harrow-on-the-Hill

Drove down to London where my son waited.
I came through South Harrow (not North), up past
The famous Harrow School, with all the kids
(All boys) in black blazers walking from class.
It may be that they were all upper class,
Or upper middle, at least. From this hill
Top I glimpsed much of London, but it passed
In a second, obscured by trees, not till
I’d spotted Harrow Campus looking real
Rectangular, a sixties box; it hid
Behind a green moving screen, but at last
I’d reached Louis. Then, having had my fill
Of driving, caught the tube train to Watford
To see them beat Preston. It was a blast
Sat 4 Oct 2008

659 - No kidding

An update on my kids’ progress so far
My eldest daughter’s an Oxford student
Tonight we meet and eat down at Pizza
Express to chat before her summer’s spent
Au pairing in France; it seems she’s long meant
To live in Paris when she graduates
My son leaves school this month, and he’s intent
On studying film-making. He can’t wait
To move to London. He anticipates
Working in LA one day; screenwriter
His chosen trade. My youngest, she first went
To school last September; she’s doing great
So many parties; she’s so popular
Her arts and language skills are excellent
Tue 24 June 2008

616 - One track mind

Travelled by train first class down to London
On the magnificent Pendolino
The train that bends and twists, a faster run
From north to south, but no coffee! Oh no!
Nothing to wet my mouth, not even though
It was so hot and I’d paid extra for
Those several cups that make you need to go
But make you seem important, that’s for sure
Apart from that I can’t think of a flaw
In the journey - well okay, maybe one
As usual the pretty girls were slow
To sit near me. A pity, but I saw
More in Trafalgar Square after I’d gone
To my meeting. Greetings girls, and hello!
Mon 12 May 2008

592 - Bog man biog

Two thousand year old man found in the peat
Bog known as Lindow Moss, down in Wilmslow,
Was first exhibited off Oxford Street,
At the Manchester Museum, but go
To London, like Dick Whittington, said Bow
Bell, and the British Museum preserved
His ancient hide, and people all sighed ‘Oh!
That’s so amazing, darling. I just lerved
Seeing that Lindow Man! When’s dinner served?’
And so did Pete Moss - his other name - eat,
On his last day, before the cruel blow,
Before his throat was slit; that meal conserved
Because undigested; his legs and feet
Missing, having decomposed long ago…
Fri 18 Apr 2008

525 - Eine kleine Mozart

It’s Mozart’s Musical Masterpieces
I’m using to drown out the floor below.
They’re playing Turkish music: my thesis
Is that a party’s coming up. Its row
Will thankfully not be heard by me, though,
Because I’m out tonight. It’s half-term week
At Josephine’s school, and my chance to show
Her books and films and listen to her cheek,
Good-natured, usually. She isn’t meek
Or mild; a spirited child. Louis is
Being offered a scholarship: Harrow,
In West London. Their film course is unique:
The best in England to attend, he says.
Meanwhile, play on, Clarinet Concerto.
Mon 11 Feb 2008

441 - Cockney sonnet

I'm openin' me bleedin' norf an' sahf
To tell yer abaht norf an' sahf Englaynd
Me bleedin' norf an' sarf's me bleedin' mahf
Wot spews aht words loike a one man brahss baynd
Cockneys don't give a monkeys fer the sahnd
Ov bleedin' norverners, wiv 'ee bah gum'
An' 'doon pit' an' all that shit, coz arahnd
Landon we're more advahnced, civiloised. Cam
An' ave a Rosie Lee wiv me, moy san
An' then a flah-ah on the dogs, not 'arf
When me an' me mites 'ear the Queen, we staynd
Aproit and prahd, jas loik me dear ole Mam
Aynd nah, excuse me, it's toim fer a barf
Oi'll see ya dahn the Crahn. 'Ell's bells, oi'm baynned!!!

Mon 19 Nov 2007

384 - Trum trum trum trum, tr-travelling on the train

Trum trum trum trum, tr-travelling on the train,
Trum trum trum trum, the tube train in London,
Trum trum … oh dear, trum, it’s stopping again
In a dark tunnel, and the whole world’s on.
I see two happy men, they’re African,
Hear confident tones of Canuck or Yank;
Unable to phone, East European,
The thick walls of the underground to thank.
Hum hum hum hum, h-headphones, faces blank,
Or young partygoers, the girls so vain,
The men viewing a leg exhibition,
Not eager for the train to get to Bank.
Trum, starting again, trum, they did explain
The stoppage, trum, but were heard by no-one.
Sun 23 Sep 2007

383 - Another trip to London town water

Another trip to London town today.
First stop Tesco to buy the crisps and coke;
Then onto that fine M6 motorway:
Just me and Louis heading for the smoke.
The M40 near Coventry’s the spoke
Of the road network that we’ll take, and then
M25 to Hounslow, where this bloke
Once showed me a great parking space, and when
We’re there, a short walk to the tube system,
Return to Putney Bridge, climb steps to day-
Light, walk through Bishops Park, avoid the choke
Of heavy traffic, by the Thames. Fulham
FC’s stadium is just there. They play
Man City, who, under Sven, are no joke.
Sat 22 Sep 2007

264 - We walked down wet and windy Wembley way

We walked down wet and windy Wembley Way
Followed by fifty thousand football fans,
The Shrewsbury sharpshooters sure that they
Would beat all Bristol Rovers’ best-laid plans.
We stair-stepped to the summit of the stands
To see the sporting spectacle below.
My special spectacles spanned the distance,
Sparing my sight the strain of staring so.
The Bristol boys beat the black and red foe -
The prize of promotion propelled their play -
While shellshocked Shrewsbury shall not advance
To higher heights than Hereford; hell no.
The raw new red arena roared hurray,
Then away walked the wet and weary fans.
Sat 26 May 2007

61 - Today we drove back down to London town

Today we drove back down to London town
To see another football match. My son
Saw his team lose. (Manchester City, down
Another place or two, while Charlton won.)
I drove the wrong way: so much traffic jammed
In Pimlico, Kensington and Chelsea,
Not easing by Ealing. The Westway crammed
With cars. Fireworks flung their coloured debris
In the full face of the man in the moon.
More fiery flowers flew in Birmingham,
A hundred miles to north. We tried to tune
The car radio, FM and AM.
When almost home, I got stopped by police
For driving fast. The wicked get no peace!
Sat 4 Nov 2006

7 - Just yesterday as I drove Gherkinwards

Just yesterday as I drove Gherkinwards
Along the busy, sunny Whitechapel
Road, I jerked and woke up in New York
Five years ago, and just the same, grappled
With downtown traffic and wrong turns. Blue sky,
Vain towers, blue eyes, dark hair, all enmeshed
In the September heat. Nagasaki,
Pearl Harbour, Dresden, here in London. Flesh
And flame all smells the same. It can’t happen
Here. Again. Not to us. We are rich
And powerful. But we can bomb Iran,
Iraq, or any non-white places which
We don’t like. Even though we ain’t been there.
Rogers, or some old mosque: what’s to compare?
Mon 11 Sep 2006

6 - In actual fact it's twenty-past midnight

In actual fact, it’s twenty-past midnight.
So does tomorrow come, after all’s said?
The M6 traffic jams gave us a fright:
A few cars had collided; drivers dead?
If only we could rewind, and then act
Out differently the scenes in which we play!
Then wouldn’t all life’s worries just contract?
Indifferent, we would smile our time away.
But we get only one shot at the drive
From south end of the motorway to north.
Like soldiers, we just hope to stay alive,
Surviving our near misses. Third or fourth
Near-smashes down in London. Maybe five
Lives all used up while down in the big smoke.
It’s best to smile and treat life as a joke.
Sun 10 Sep 2006

5 - We drove to London on the motorway

We drove to London on the motorway
(Busy near Birmingham and Stratford).
A soccer game tomorrow and today:
West Ham - Villa, Orient and Brentford.
Canary Wharf and Gherkin, towering
Dwarfs, when seen from far-off Leyton’s bridge, grow
So slender, drink the overpowering
River’s nourishment that doused St Paul’s glow,
And point to no-one in particular.
Markets are the only heaven and hell;
The City is their altar; secular
Priests, as priests will always do, from the bell,
Perform their mystic rites and forecast boom,
Bust, or bull or bear, or glory or doom.
Sat 9 Sep 2006