Sandy Island

Sandy island...........

I'm sure there is a t.v., politician, and rip-off free island 

somewhere 

with 

permanent summertime, 

starlit nightly dancing, 

fresh seafood, 

salads, 

endless beaches,

peace, 

knowledge & understanding

and 

clear rivers 

where handwashed linen dries 

in under 10 mins.. 

I've searched 

everywhere

but just can't seem to find it 

on any airline route, port of call, map 

or gps...

(‘Sandy Island in the South Pacific – which maps and charts had positioned midway between Australia and New Caledonia – was found not to exist....’ - ‘The Independent’- Saturday 24th November 2012). 

old doggerel

We painted on our cave walls
in colours of deepest blue

and we saw the motorway unwinding
in a direction we never knew -

it was heading into old age

where we’ve never been before,

but then we always liked to travel

and take a real Grand Tour,

go gazing into burning mountains,

or searching out some distant shore.

So we’ll treat this as a journey
into another world






where all the signs are shrouded
but the nights still hope to swirl
with warmth and love and laughter



and the strings all plucking sound


as the angels start their chanting

floating high above the ground.




Come and see this evening
rising with the setting sun
the troops have changed their colours
and made flowers sprout from guns

(but still the battles last forever -

and mothers lose their sons).

We’re heading for the Centre
of those spirals found in Space
spinning round a whirl point
before we vanish without trace.

This mountainside we’re climbing
seems bleak and sharp and endless
in its burning crimson hue,

we’re the children of the skies my love

and there’s only me and you.

And yes we still remember
those thoughts of yesteryear
when you made some childlike magic
and got us out of here.


Everything seemed limited
by the horizon always near
and all you ever wanted
was to get right out of there
and find out how the whole world looked
from a different point of view -

it’s how you came to find this sense

of simply being you.

Now the road stretches out before us
with a million twists and turns
and plans and lists and strategies
are tossed upon a fire

we’re following another sound my dear
that deep within us burns.



Now
we’re looking at an horizon
that’s still just over there
like the one we contemplated
in those dim and distant days -
when all was cloaked in mystery
and a lovely sunny haze.



But those thoughts and hopes and feelings
are still so fresh and new -
like Life’s passed by in a second
or a lazy hour or two.

There’s much confusion and happiness

and many ups and downs

a backdrop of morning mists

wild flowers in dirty towns

trouble in a ghetto night

and death among the palms -

seas all rough and churning

or sometimes still and calm -

deserts, caves and mountains

and sheltering skies above,

dreams and spells and clarity

in the early morning sun,

when every day was a new one

like when the World begun.

We love the trees in Autumn

and the sprouting in the Spring

we love this world we live in

where have no need of king -

we’re all joined up together

like the water in a stream

in a harmony of discord

from a disc that slowly spins

on a dusty road that’s winding

from out of a child’s good dream.

So it’s back now to some beginning

like when we first set out,

before we crossed all those horizons

and spun the World about.

It’s time to close a chapter

pack up the bags again -

so climb up on the wall here

and open up your heart

there’s another Unknown beckoning

dimly through the dark

so we’ll just keep on finding out

and play this

Old Age

part

spirits are screaming

............................................



the barriers were open to the river flood

an artery bursting with too much blood,



















lost in spate and chaotic rush -

past trees and pubs and the evening crush,

puzzled looks from passersby -


but no-one wonders how planets cry.





Seas curve around the shifting coast

as paupers moan and the gentry boast


of progress and paintings

and the things we love best -





the sunlight breaking over a distant crest

the gentle curve of your lover’s breast -
















it could all come to nothing in one beat of your heart,


in one choice at the crossroads where two worlds part -
















spirits are screaming

leaders are dreaming





waters are teeming.

























..........................................

longtime here

When all the others were gone
you were still there

unexpected

small and silent, hanging in.







Those bedroom nights,
the piano’s warm and gentle flight
and passions able to be realised

are now colours, tones and hues
in another memory’s shade,
floating in a fluid made rich with age,


Behind these lights of nowaday,
those nights have now gone
clean away.

....just get it all down,
get it all down
she used to say....

Many favours and lies have passed
and many bridges burnt
since that once upon a day.......




But you are here

unexpected still,

Now longtime hanging in.










And high above the city line
in tranquil vision of an ancient stream
we two are part of symmetry reflected there

another part of the magic dream

longtime here



now













...................

ghettoised

Live your life in the ghetto

with the other dispossessed -

amongst the sari and the hijab
the tank-top and the yashmak,

and warmth and love and friendship

and a simmering unrest.














There’s markets and there’s sewers
and lines of flower stalls,

there’s miscellaneous shop-fronts
and brightly lit dance-halls.

There’s billiards and there’s poppadoms
and piles of rubber shoes

there’s majesty and misery
and people hooked on booze.

There’s a backdrop of bridges
and cats amongst the litter -

twisted paper and some plastic cups
in puddles of Yorkshire bitter.

There’s churches and gurdwaras
and parks for the older men,

there’s shouting and there’s screaming
and a flashing police siren.







There’s no entrance and no exit,
no sign on the tourist trap -

just a multitude of faces
that span the human map.







So let the stateless find a homeland
on these streets just made for giving -

and let the solitary find their family
in these homes crammed full with living.







yes, let’s stay home in the ghetto

with our friends the dispossessed

where the roads are full of All of Us



and our simmering unrest












...............................................














down in an ancient modern street



















+ + + + + + +

Dogger Land

Oceans washed over a land
before what we know began.


There were rivers of people
living lives in
ignorance of future seas.


Waking, trekking, sleeping,
needing,
loving too -

feeding kids and fashioning stones
smiling in the dawn of another living day...


Using time that passed their way
making journeys, seeking prey;


giving heed to seasons change
pondering starlight, art
and understandings,
mysterious and strange.


making food
and making homes

times of silent thought
amid ancestral bones -

times of pleasure
times of pain

then the sun came out again.



Living in a present
leave behind a past
no need for a future
when you’re sticking to the task

in Dogger Land


until the waters came and chased them all away


++++++++++++++++



Now we’re more advanced, they say
we’ve moved on from that distant day -

controlling worlds by words alone
ordering life from a mobile phone -

no more silence
no more pain -

if roads are blocked
we take the train -

if clouds are full of poison rain
we’ll artifice some sunlight,
to make it all seem right again...

forget about those anxious thoughts
in startled scientific courts

as boats bump against the cliff tops
in our storm swept ports

we’re sticking to our task in hand
just as we were taught....

draw a picture make a plan -
take a holiday
fake a tan -

educated heads in educated sand.

we too are washed away
with everything
that was our Land

it’s you and me
who are beneath the sea -

we’d so many eyes we couldn’t see

everything that was

Dogger Land












.............................

peaceful eyes

eternity passes its endless way while rivers of stars flow on.

Viracocha is dying on cushions of burnished gold

Earth is turning yellow, feeling so very old.

A Pharoah is laid in his tomb
swathed in silent swaddling, peaceful eyes in a pyramid womb,

while eternity passes its endless way and rivers of stars look on.




Take these organs from me now
and lay them by my side
with all the other unwanted things
that plagued me while alive.

In that casket made of jade
seal up that jealous rage
maybe one day it will simply fade
or else mature with age....

In that jar that’s made of jet
put this heart of stone
let it just stayed pickled up
it shrivelled while alone

Bring that cotton shroud to me
the one that’s got no stain
It’ll bandage up these open wounds
that caused the needless pain

tie me tight and leave me be

I’ll not be here again.



Take the Fear that held me back
and all its cousins too
and tie them in that second-hand sack
and sink them in the sea,
or lock them in that old tin box
and throw away the key
I never had a use for them
they stopped me being Me.


Take that constant Trouble there
that wracked me into sobs
and throw it with the old dead cats
on a lonely rubbish heap,
the one that’s by the city slums
where the orphaned children weep.

Tear out that massive Ignorance
that’s declared itself at last,
and throw it from the tallest cliff
so it falls right through to hell,

then stop its mouth as it struts about
in its deep down dungeon cell,
its twisted scream in an empty space
a hideous silent shout.

Put out these eyes that cannot see
no matter how they strain

and replace them with the peaceful ones
for all Eternity

put out these eyes that cannot see
no matter how they strain

I have no earthly use for them

I’ll not be here again.
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162699736132727218" />

Silent Song

If this needed a title, it would have to be:

'Gypsy eyes'

(1. words 1972 : central Iran)


(G) Standing in the desert where no (C) flowers grow (G)


Gazing into (D) Gypsy eyes and (D7) wondering where to (G) go.


When from the mists before you a (C) group of riders show (G)

Some (D) people from the Other side, from (D7) lands you want to know (G)


(Bm) There's a spare horse beside them, so (G7) mount and lose your (C) fear

Don't (Dm) think about the life you've (D7) led and forget you've ever shed a (G) tear.

(Guitar break of choice, appropriate sequences and timings)

(G) The instant came and (G7) went again

Your (C) sob rose from within (G)

But the (D) Gypsy laughed and (Dm) spurred his horse

Then (D7) rode off with the (G) wind.

(repeat last two lines)


(Guitar break of choice as appropriate)

(2. words and chords 2005-6, London.)


(G) Now Time has passed in a (G7) lightning flash

But (C) Age can make you wise (G)

'Cos we're (D) living in the moment now

And we (D7) see through Gypsy (G) eyes

(repeat last two lines)


(G) Standing in the desert where no (C) flowers grow (G)

(D) Gazing into Gypsy eyes and (D7) wondering where to (G) go

Now Time has passed in a (G7) lightning flash

and (C) Age can make you wise (G)

We're (D) living in the moment now

and we (D7) see through Gypsy (G) eyes

(repeat last two lines)
D7 G
D7 G

(Guitar break of choice fade and close) (G)