Memory Tray Day In Heaven

On my memory tray, there was a copy of 'How To Train Up A Child', a bible, some plastic hose dad always said was to light to damage the bone and a set of keys to the cellar. Marcella from Garvey class said her tray had some false memories on it, but I didn't really understand that. There was some Child Benefit and Social Security rules (1978) on mine too. Richard Thompson skimmed his tray right over the playground fence which is high and it hit the window of a big lorry. Dean Blunton and Liz leMonde kept stroking each other underneath their memory trays, which were all full of stupid soft cuddly toys. I hate Dean Blunton.

http://rhymeswithmagicart.blogspot.se/2012/03/read-in-fancy-font-complete.html

http://www.inspirationgreen.com/art-from-old-books.html

False Signatories Re-unite.

under that mythological sky beast farmers market
we are observing one and the other. Talking -

I notice that you and I are different
You notice to what degree - by the usual
mechanical burden of proof - you say.

I listen

We are quiet. We boys don't like to go to market too often
I have learned.

Markets require skills. You confess.

We talk more.

Reach the same equilibrium we always did.

The happy surprise of friendship, bound up in cameraderie
and some competition, headlock - death.

Best Regards,

The Apothecary.

Right, these set of bonusus, Clare, are on...

OPTICAL ILLUSIONS:

where are the words Clare?

No, I'm sorry.

it's not 'like steve wright' but poetry - it is.

if you dont get the difference you dont get politics.

That man that could sing - from Eastenders - you know!

You bet in William Hill's Bookery
that he has Italian Blood
in measures greater than
one quarter. Odds 7 to 2.

They make it and you've just put your last twenty on the line.

Disappointed, by the location and the service,
You visit the Coop next door, where, polite
if nothing else but still frightening to the cashier
(Who, by some strange felony of humour,

you refer to as: 'Cashier' - ) you steal a bottle of
Jamesons. 'Those were the days', I imagine
you might be thinking, as you walk - don't run -
past the Zebra crossing (no cheap gags tonight)

and into the country's one and only dog
with an asbo and her owner...

(yes, she is a lady)

With only a little time to run before they can stop presenting themselves
and all the other encumberances that ensue - they will not play with you.

 It's been said, you bought shoes for bare-foot children you saw in the street,
William Hill is offering odds at something wider on this and the Coop will prosecute.

In better days, you were making a profit from the televisions' pre-occupation
with 'junk' - or 'pre-owned mid twentieth century goods' depending on your predilection

but you knew this was all shit - and why...

You end.

My Sweet Self / Nobody Else / But The Polis

Quidco, other questions.
Where does the melody come from
and how do we know the tune?

tautological, like persephone in Hollyoaks
did you ever hey please? did you woo my knees?
remembering in images: That fucking gate
Those fucking handle-bars. Subway steps
awaking to blood, not rain and Joolz laughing

Some sort of Rickenbacher sound. A nursery rhyme
Willow rocking chair, willow wobbler, gone mad,
like a mental case. Brown leather, some sort of woven heavy duty plastic.

One last fling again,......

A novel - Shit. No description of showing
and showing nothing but description - shit.

Your train has left.

Advertising gadgets I use onstage
like a foot-pedal or something more
esoteric - an earphone monitor with built in delay
or other digital shit. make me a drum from a husk.

POlitics? LETS GET READY TO GRRRRUMBLE...
Don't BUT the polis
if you can remember
how Kerby felt and looked. Catch. 3 points. Home

i am a potrato

there werent any words that changed the world
elle'ds r us, I cooked everyone I find
Go back - Gooo backkkk

its all restraint, im getting baked
so every time u see me now

i am a potrato

you say

Sonnetnot

Boris Johnson - Steely dan

King of the World

Edward massey

First aid Kit

No Form







 

Hi Dave

Rolling, Looking, Laughing

the number of things which can get my attention on the internet
is big
Ivon Hitchens with Spanish music, shan't list them all....

I mean, really
to say
how looking and listening

are just so cool
and then making connections

between the two

ROFL

recidivism

Boris Johnson King Of The World
god of peterloo
blood of pale brows bowed
anarchy to thee we bow
and thou name made holy now

And by Putney we did debate
and had pause to think
that now there are no words
and failing to explicate,

Receed.

Satellite of Love - or - Viva Derek Redmond's Dad

Well Lou is dead but Punk can live on
and a meteor, number 14,  DA
has taken out almost every satellite
from  Barcelona,  to Californ - (e) -i - a -. (so we'll need a new song to sing...)

reminding me of a travelling band
from Abe Lincoln's stellar brigade
who followed the sat navs of their conscience
before these days of brand lemonade 

CHORUS:  (oh viva la quince brigada// viva love, money, andy's babies and Lou ..// will be turning in his punked up place of rest and come the time, // i've no doubt so will I and so might you.) 

They went to stand behind the 'spanish angels'
Christy and Seegers' international 5th brigade-
I wonder now if that young Derek Redmond
had a sense he was limping over graves (viva abe lincoln's battallion...)

of men and women fighting for a conscience
and others wondering who'd been
in 1936 in Barcelona
and running for the people's only team? (viva Rolando Alarcon...)

James Connelly, I'd have him throw a discuss
for the sake of all that dialogue can bring
I hope he might see now that there's nawt with more power
than something for which we can all sing (Viva Frank Ryan and Bob Hilliard...)

But '92  hailed a new perestroika
The gates fell in Moscow and Berlin
Global Capital will have it's shiny future
While Socialism licks it's wounded white skin. (viva Fox and Foley, Paton and all...)

But Derek Redmond's dad knew something better
In his own un-conceited global heart
and we forgot the day - the people's games stopped play:
It's not the winning but the fucking taking part. (and viva Derek Redmond's dad...)

(now it's said most Paddy's fought for Franco -
but I'm here in the studio by satellite link
with Derek's dad and an IRA spokesman
who both sound like they've been on the drink) (viva la people's olympics...)

stars

isnt this fella painting them all up now?
i'll go look

Paul brady Remembered before he and all Die

i cant soften the blow of youth

oh jonny

i just couldnt break your burden of youth

and the auld man died

did you feel the same as i?

hey johnny

did you see the same stars and the death of your own eternity?

and was there anyone there?

hey johnny - wake up

dont stop to stare

its a bad foundation

looking at the world from the set stars

of your wee face and

Johnny -

oh

Windsor Davies

here's the thing Don Estelle:

the trees weren't interested

and the grass - it had no need to tell.

memory, they say, is imagining: knowing - would that be ok? x

a co-ordinate that's true.
i wrote that. it could happen to you
from fast to favour
i wouldnt doubt

the rhyme's more important than finding the trout

Julian

To spot a friend that much bigger than you
- almost un-heard of.

To listen to - not advice - but observation:

"sometimes, that kind of mistake, is there only for perfection's sake"

- from a guy who can't even spell proper?

All Is Well

I would advocate
for not ascribing
too much importance
or even meaning
to any one word:

'Cunt' is, in present tense
only one consonant away
from 'bunting' and just one
slide down the alphabet.

somewhere between b and c
the snakes and ladders

where you need

Wallop!

that were it

can't think of any realisation more powerful-

LET PEOPLE YOUNGER THAN YOU SHOW YOU HOW TO DO STUFF YOU NEED TO DO.

---------------------

the awakening. I bet that's a film. and i hope it's shit

-----------------------

i mean really - but OH
(in a free verse style)
have i been there doing not what i should for all this time to be here doing all i can for nothing?

---------------------

I dont think so bi(A)tch.