My Poems are now available on amazon kindle eBooks. I wrote them between 1967 and 2021. many of them were set to music composed by Chris Calcroft. I hope that you will enjoy them.
In the sixties songs developed a profundity which was quite unlike anything known in modern popular music. The words were in some case not only graphic but also poetic. Bob Dylan was an earlier example, choosing part of his stage name from Dylan Thomas, and occasionally there was good poetry in rock songs. Continue reading →
The wind makes music as it blows the city, and I once made music when winds blew another city, rainier when I was young. It is a windy day in London Town and all day the wind has blown the city, shaking trees and making those who have choice stay inside and watch the trees move. the wind has in some parts of these Islands blown too strongly for the wind turbines to operate. You can have too much of a good thing, as the still turbine blades in high gales testify.
Perhaps it is that I expect too much intelligence from humans. They disappoint me. A lifetime of disappointment is not long enough to become accustomed to it. Continue reading →
I heard the news, O, tales of murder, salacious relationships and confounded politics, peppered with bribery and corruption, salted with tears of the oppressed. The weather is misbehaving, for typhoons come and go. The moans of the disadvantages reach mini crescendos, complaints without blame and while journalists and policemen and politicians spy on us, just in case, just in case. The greed of humanity is such that sufficient is never enough.
Few birds sing these mornings and those that do stutter their songs. The light is cold and the road is ice shiny, dull and dead leaf littered damp dark lampless. The cold air pulls at the steps I take, trying to persuade me to return to the home warmth and comfort. It cannot hold me back but it can wear me out. I am lost in an unwelcome world, unwelcoming. I must not complain. It is, after all, a winter’s day, on a deep and dark December.