fact, opinion and poetry (not airy-fairy)


Sunday 31 March 2013

Jimi Hendrix

There are two times in history,
Before Hendrix and after.
In a time of dull conformity,
Jimi came and set us free:
Banishing the black and grey,
The discipline that overstayed
World War Two's necessity.
He blew the war's cobwebs away,
Restored the colours we had lost,
In a glowing rock glasnost;
Helped us articulate our dreams,
Reduced the flow of silent screams.


I still remember Hendrix performing 'Purple Haze' on Top of the Pops. I don't know how the posh Southerners reacted to him, but in the West of Scotland we were gob-smacked.

Friday 29 March 2013

Day of Poetry at Richard Attenborough Centre

Cool Britannia

This spring-time snow
Has a curious glow.
It's unusually bright
For a landscape so white,
Under skies overcast
That threaten more snow.
In spite of this light,
The wind has a bite,
A chill icy blast
'Cross a park that is vast.

I come in from the cold,
Not feeling too bold.
My mind's still outside,
In a space pale and wide.
I find it hard to adjust,
Even though I just must.
The others are jolly;
I can't catch this mood,
My presence seems folly.
 

I had walked across Victoria Park on the way to the centre, 
and felt like a polar explorer by the time I got there.
I thought that lunch and a beer would sort me out.
 
Lunch Fear

I'm just standing here,
My mind filled with fear - 
Will I ever get my panini?

I think it's in a kind of griller,
But heating it up seems to take forever.
I missed out on my breakfast,
Feels like I'm doing a real fast.

If I had just been told,
I'd rather have eaten it cold -
I thought it was a baguette.
Upstairs they're about to start,
And I'm not there to play my part.
I may as well sip my beer.

Ah well. Once I had eaten I felt better, and got into the spirit of things.
I went to a lyrics workshop, run by Lady Paradox, who is absolutely 
amazing and gifted.
Both these poems were started off on the day, then tinkered with since.
The odd appearance of this posting is due to bugs in the blogger software. 

Monday 25 March 2013

On the Buses

Arriva Midlands buses seem devoid of both heating and shock-absorbers. They are not much fun.
A long trip on one is an ordeal. Why are they like this?
The double-deckers are much worse than the single deckers. Neither is anything like as comfortable as an excursion coach. Why not? Are Arriva punishing us for some imagined sin?
Surely they would get more passengers if they offered a pleasanter journey?

The drivers frequently leave the door open for an unnecessarily long time, letting freezing air in.
They rarely keep to time, being either early or late. Early is worse, of course.
It's not unusual to have an empty drink can rolling about noisily on the floor during the entire journey.

First Leicester buses, even though they are double-deckers, are of much higher quality and comfort. Unfortunately they only serve the city, not the county. 

PS (3rd May)
Another unpleasant habit some drivers have is closing the door in the faces of approaching people and moving off. I saw someone heroically preventing this today. He stepped right in front of a moving bus and shouted angrily at the driver to stop! She had little choice, and a whole bunch of people piled on board that she had meant to leave behind. Bravo!

Big Spender

What a strange mentality
It must take for folk to be
Proud of their stupidity.
To boast of how they've spent a lot
On things they could have cheaply got.

Big spending may be quite a blast,
But the wealth it shows is in the past.
Money that's burned holes in your pocket
You have no longer on deposit.
If you spend lots to impress
You'll end in a financial mess.

Thursday 21 March 2013

Material World

We're living in a material world,
And yet it seems quite strange to us.
Inside ourselves we fondly fancy
That a spirit essence is our nature,
In the face of all the evidence
That we are made of solid matter.

We're very prone to stark deny
Our intellect is physical.
Events like strokes do give the lie
To a self-concept that's mythical:
Our brain may rot before we die;
To lose our mind's quite typical.

The accused man's brain has turned to sludge,
But the courts don't care to know.
The judge's gavel crashes down,
And off to gaol he must go;
Accountable though deranged.

As clarification, I am not averse to the idea that we have a spirit essence. I don't think that it can include the intellect as we understand it, including all our knowledge and memories, which are surely encoded in the structures of the nervous system. It's a problem, that we don't like to think about the extent to which those things are controlled by our material environment. Strong scientific evidence exists to show that criminal behaviour is related to pollution, junk food, etc.
Tony Blair promised to be 'tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime'. If only he had delivered on the latter half of that pledge, we would all have a better quality of life. 

In the Name of Free Enterprise

They trot out lots of lies
To praise free enterprise.
But all they really do
Is steal from me and you.

They give the state the blame,
A rich rogue's lying game.
No end to their demands
When power's in their hands.

The taxman grabs our dosh
And gives it to the posh,
Through contracts that are bent.
We wonder where it went.

Sunday 17 March 2013

The Rage of Unknowing

I listened to a little girl this morning, telling how she wondered why people cry when they are upset, and cry when they are happy. She became angry that she did not know, and this made her cry.
     We have a terrible urge to know everything.
     I suffered greatly from this as a young man. I was in a fever to know everything about everything. I remember a conversation with classmates, when we discussed a visit to the university we had made, to prepare us for attending. We were stunned by the huge library, and by being told this was only the tip of the iceberg. We had imagined we were going to university to learn everything there was to know about science. We were shocked and disappointed by the truth.
     It is understandable that a child cannot discriminate between what is necessary to know and what is not. A deep drive to learn everything seems to be nature's response. This causes us great disquiet.
     As we grow older, we perforce learn to put away this childish desire. Yet still it lurks within us, working mischief. How much of the world's troubles are caused by people pretending to know things they really don't, because they can't stand to admit their ignorance, even to themselves?

Saturday 16 March 2013

The Evil Taggers Must Be Hunted Down

I was travelling on the bus the other day and saw a reward poster up on it. Leicester City Council has offered  £500 for info leading to the conviction of two taggers. They displayed examples of their tags, which are nothing clever.
      Since this is the only bounty on offer in this town, I conclude that these two must be the most dangerous offenders in the city. What a tranquil place we must live in, if these two are the worst of the worst. We are truly fortunate.
      I wonder why there was crime scene tape up around the entrance to the 'Spearmint Rhino Gentlemen's Club' in the city centre last week? Maybe the sinister taggers have been there. It couldn't be that the customers have been hurting each other. Gentlemen would never stoop to brawling in the street.
      This club is next door to the police station btw.

Tuesday 12 March 2013

Self Esteem

Self help gurus praise self-esteem.
They tell us to be narcissist,
And sell us a romantic dream
That this will make us rich as hell,
And brim with fulsome grace as well.
Perhaps they should desist.

Friday 8 March 2013

Morning Rhymes

I wish my mind would stop these rhymes
They come at inconvenient times,
Even before my alarm bell chimes.
This bloody awful bookie's pen
Will drive me round the bloody bend.
I try to write things down with it,
But it's a piece of useless shit.

Why does this stuff come in my head
Before I'm out of bloody bed?
I'd rather get much-needed rest
Than stagger round in trunks and vest
To get my hands on fresh supplies;
I'd liefer in my warm bed lie.

I'm troubled by a restless muse;
Or is it caused by last night's booze?
In any case it's just bad news.
I feel this need to capture verse
But at the time it's like a curse.

Sunday 3 March 2013

A Coldness of the Heart

People would like to believe
That everyone must have a heart.
To he whose finger grips the trigger,
That kind of thing's a load of fart.

He sees the world a different way,
Easy money is his style.
All he cares is what will pay,
His violence is the proof.

Terror brings him what he wants,
For others' suffering he lacks care.
In spite of all that people wish,
Such cruelty isn't rare.

Some like to say that it's inhuman,
But this is not the truth.
If you know some history,
War's violence gives the proof.

Here we live in a golden age,
When we can dream of peace.
Others are controlled by rage,
Or filled brim full with greed.

For Sade, who has given us such beautiful music and lyrics. Unfortunately this time I can't agree with what she sang.