927 - Below the seat belt

Today I drove to Chorley, Lancashire
To watch the Road Fuel Testing Unit
Dipping tanks of road users in case they’re
Illegally using red diesel (it
Is cheap but can’t be used on the roads), but
None were. A lovely sunny day. Back home,
I cleaned the flat thoroughly, a visit
From a prospective lodger. Didn’t come
Till the time got to five fifteen pm
And then off to town for a bite at the
Duke of Wellington with a mate, then it
Was a short bus ride to Trof for a fun
Verse play, ‘Below The Belt,’ about sex. Yeah,
It had to be done. Pint and cigarette.
Thur 19 Mar 2009

911 - Rock and Roll Part One

It’s only ‘Rock and Roll,’ but we liked it
The Tom Stoppard play, Library Theatre
The audience looked like they were past it
But they were old enough to remember
The 60s: they’d been there, they weren’t all square
Ex-rockers, academics, TV stars
All crowded in to recall and to share
The golden age of rock and roll ideas
Ideals of Red Square, books they’d read, guitars
They’d strummed, joints smoked (fake joints and fags were lit)
Seen through a distant haze (I didn’t wear
My glasses, silly me). And now, the cause
Of socialism’s agreed to have bit
The dust, or has it? Might its ghost appear?
Tue 3 March 2009

907 - Busy nights

Amazing: a night in! So few this week
But I'll use it to play some more music
Maybe re-record 'World at War' - a weak
Mix, and low volume made it less than slick
On Wednesday night. Hey soundman, get your shit
Together next time, or I'll bring my own
Equipment, damn you! Didn't drop my pick
At least. Last night, I networked - yes, me, Tone!
Met several new contacts and exchanged phone
Numbers and emails; maybe we will speak
Of new arts projects, build them brick by brick
July festival audiences blown
Away..... Nice dream, go float off down the creek
Off home now from the office...What to cook?
Fri 27 Feb 2009

735 - Bursting bubbles

My ma’s grandfather Alfred Dean had been
A school mate of this lad Billy Lever
Down Bolton way. Then Billy had a scheme:
To sell soap at the market. Alf was the
First one he asked to help him. Alf said, er,
No ta mate. Billy built the company
That made Sunlight and Pear’s Soap. Millionaire
And, with his wife Lizzie Hulme, thoroughly
Into works of art and philanthropy
From profits gleaned from keeping people clean
They even built Port Sunlight village, their
Pub-free paradise near the factory
If only Alfie Dean could have foreseen
That forever bubble-blowing future!
Mon 8 Sep 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

532 - Art or life

They say that art is long and life is short.
What they don't tell you is there's lots of stuff
That gets in the way of art, and we ought
To ruthlessly suppress it, to be tough.
Like families, jobs, trying to earn enough
To go on holiday, buy a new car,
Keep up with the Joneses. Artists we love
Were often dirt poor, but free to ponder,
Prepare, practice, perform and then go far.
The rich buy time; the poor man's time is bought
With sacrifice, homelessness, living rough,
Rejection, not recognising failure,
Not wanting the material, a sort
Of holy man, abused but still unmoved.
Mon 18 Feb 2008

521 - Nights of wine and poses

Just five hours’ sleep after the poetry gig;
Then off to work, a relaxed atmosphere.
The sky was blue, the winds blew too, a big
And wintry gust over Manchester. Here
We are, a group of friends, and all sincere
In helping each other’s low confidence
To grow, to overcome the natural fear
Of performing in public, innocence
In one way, worldliness in a new sense
Of pride. Hiding our fears on a coat peg,
Tonight we attended an art show, near
The riverbank, looked at the pictures. Once
A few glasses of wine are drunk, we egg
Each other on, our thinking not too clear.
Thur 7 Feb 2008

468 - Give me just a little more time

A quick tour of what’s going on with me:
The daily sonnet still takes precedence
Because, by its nature, it’s done daily,
And to miss for one day would make no sense.
But the call of the novel is intense,
So I need to write my sonnets at dawn
(Or at the office!), leaving an immense
Chunk of the evening free for me to spawn
Plot and characters. Plus, to groups I’m drawn,
To meeting other artists, usefully.
And publishing some work could maybe send
A message that I’m here, that I’ve been born.
And then there’s music, guitar melody,
And work, and family, and online friends.
Sun 16 Dec 2007

320 - Taste is such a strange thing: each to their own

Taste is such a strange thing: each to their own;
I like orange juice but can’t eat the fruit,
And as for tomatoes, they are unknown
To my plate and palate, despite repute.
And then there’s women: those I think are cute,
Other women laugh at, though men agree
Sometimes with me; their clothing may not suit,
But that’s not always important to me.
And we’ve not mentioned art, philosophy,
Religion, politics (forbidden zone?)
Or what in friends is the best attribute,
Or where to go on next year’s holiday.
But vive la difference: to be a clone
Of peers or parents would make interest mute.
Sat 21 July 2007

213 - There's Delius, Sibelius, and then

There’s Delius, Sibelius, and then
There’s Bach and Offenbach, and often there’s
Mozart. Most art by them or Beethoven
Is woven smartly, using love and tears.
Matisse, Magritte, they greet with painted smears -
A pleasing feat. Et pour Manet, Monet,
Beaucoup monnaie, s’il vous plait. Van Gogh’s ears
Fall like the swirling stars. Surreal Dali.
Top opera: Verdi, Monteverdi,
Wagner’s Valhalla, Callas as Carmen.
In galleries and palaces, premieres
Performed for potentates, glitterati.
The glasses raised to drink and see. Wien,
Munchen, Paree twinkle beneath the stars.
Thur 5 Apr 2007