Tuesday 29 September 2009

1121 - Not funny money

I got a real shock checking my account
At work today. Just a few quid within
My overdraft limit. ‘You cupid stunt!’
Or words to that effect, echoed round in
My mind. In just a few days I begin
My two week holiday. I’ve still to pay
For two weeks’ hired car. I’ll need spending
Money, and payment for places to stay.
I’ll have to go about things the wrong way
And buy things on credit. To be quite blunt,
I’m skint, thanks to Josie’s piano lessons
And other things she needed, like ballet(!)
And driving Louis to London wouldn’t
Be cheap, I knew that. (I should’ve stayed in!!)
Tue 29 Sept

1120 - You never miss your water

Set the alarm for the heart of the sun
Aren’t you the gigolo aunt, or are you
The man from uncle, ankles hurt when run
Oh marathon man, are you lonely too
Only the lonely long-distance will do
The long and winding road leads to whose door
Please light my fire, and relight it, Lulu
Lolo and Antoine, can you help me score
Mountain of coke, I’d do it, cos it’s there
Run run run, Lou, and also you, Jo-Jo Gunne
Happiness is a warm gun, Boogaloo
So rack off, Kylie, and Danii, you score
Nothing in the X Factor, and Simon
Cowell, oh well, Peter Green’s right on cue
Mon 28 Sept

1119 - Driving about in London and Paris

London and Paris, a comparison
So different, yes, and ‘Vive la diffĂ© rence!’
London is many different towns, not one
Paris is more homogeneous, more since
Baron Haussmann tore up the town, convinced
That diseases and revolutions would
Be brought to an end. And then London sensed
It needed a similar boulevard
So creating The Mall. Though The Blitz scarred
The face of London, the money was gone
At war’s end, so no grand redesign, hence
London remains chaotic, rather hard
To drive round, a maze, a chameleon,
While Paris has straight lines and elegance
Sun 27 Sept

1118 - On the Old Kent Road

Oh what a drive! Why is there always stress
When going long distances to a match?
From Manchester to Harrow, the address
Where Louis will be living, a quick snatch
Of his belongings from the car, quick march
Up the stairs with them; then, trying to get
To the M25 (East) while attached
To Saturday lunchtime traffic jams - it
Was not easy; nor was getting to Kent
Over the Dartford Crossing, but impressed
With views of distant London. Made the match -
They’d only just kicked off. It was so hot
For late September, girls scantily dressed…
Epic drive through London on the way back
Sat 26 Aug

1117 - Thoughts as I prepare to leave the office on a sunny Friday afternoon

It's looking nice out there through the window
The sun is shining, but won't be for long
And when I've written this, I'll up and go
Home, via the shops. Would a beer be wrong?
Need to doze off early, for there's a long
Long drive tomorrow, to Harrow and then
To Gillingham in Kent - yes, I'll be stung
For petrol costs, but if not now, then when
Will we visit that club? And I will send
Louis to his rented room in Harrow
Start of his second year, film production
It's really quite naughty of me to spend
When my hols are coming up. His fault, though -
There's buses that the lad could have got on...
Fri 25 Sept

1116 - Take me to the Hebden Bridge

I did drive to Hebden last night, despite
Taking a wrong turning. They start so late
It would be hard to miss open mic night
Which starts about 9:15. See? So late
Especially for the likes of me, to wait
Around while folk come and go for a smoke
By the canal, or reach a drunken state
Maybe explains the frequency some folk
Forget their lyrics, like the short fat bloke
Who had to abandon song in mid-flight
Or maybe, mid-fight, as he fought his fate
The words refusing to fly back. So, choked,
He resumed seat and pint, and thought what might
Have been, clear mind able to concentrate
Thur 24 Sept

1115 - To go, or not to go

To go to Hebden? Well, I'm in the mood
For a music night, especially since I
Pulled out of 'Twang' last night. Need to improve
And for that, need to practice linking my
Voice to the guitar strokes, and also try
To make my voice stronger, louder. It's got
Noticeably better lately, though I
Have only done a handful of short slots
Sometimes part-poetry, and sometimes not
At various pubs, and often far removed
From public appraisal; but you can't fly
Before you can walk, before you can trot
Then you can run, then take off. First subdued
And terrified, confident by and by
Wed 23 Sept

1114 - Noisy night in

At home this evening, two vocals laid down
'The Day You Went Away' and a new take
Of 'When I Was In Paris.' Now both sound
Quite acceptable (can't hear the mistakes!)
I'm glad it was productive. Had to make
A tough choice - work on these songs or, instead
Go to the music night and try to make
Some new musical contacts. But I dread
Going to such events, for in my head
I think I won't enjoy myself... I've found
However, that I usually do. Mistake
To be too shy. I played along to Led
Zep, Brian Wilson, Velvet Underground
And Yes, drinking beer so I could outflake!
Tue 22 Sept

1113 - Painted sky

It’s nice to be at home when I’m this tired
Not having a show to which I must go
And prepare for, or try to be inspired
No, I’ll just relax… Probably won’t, you know!
Maybe I’ll play a game of stone the crow
Or do some ironing, Byronically
Maybe turn on the taps, go with the flow
Or read me some Byron, ironically
Byron? Huh, I don’t think I’ve got any…
Hmm. I wonder if he tried a triad?
The evening sky, all orange purple glow
Darkens minute by minute, rapidly
It’s only 7:15, but retired
Alone here in my flat’s not that bad, no
Mon 21 Sept

1112 - Near death experience on stage (well, more like in the corner of the back room of a small pub)

Last night I found myself lost in Oldham
Not the best place to get lost, but some folk
Gave me directions; I’m grateful to them
Once again, Google Maps are just a joke
They seem to get the main roads right, but poke
Deeper and the info’s wide of the mark
I found the Gardener’s Arms and quickly broke
Open my wallet for a pint. Embarked
Right away on my set. It was remarked
I did okay, despite the mic problems
You often get at small gigs. Nearly choked
At one point, forgetting the words, but hark!
(He said poetically!) Muse, please send them
Special delivery, before I croak!

1111 - Four ones

Four ones like four freedoms, freedom from fear
Four ones look like Four Oaks where I was born
Four ones, a fallen ladder costs you dear
Four ones, the forms of black teeth all forlorn

Four lines record sonnet one one one one
Four lines shaping its middle, rolls of fat
Four lines on my forehead show youth has gone
Four lines in your email have left me flat

Four decades and more of drawn-out impact
Four decades only I remember clear
Four decades of full consciousness and fact
Four decades and more of receding years

Four ones make four, but also much much more
A grand, a ton, eleven’s the full score
Sat 19 Sept

1110 - Plans (some may have to be shelved if it rains)

I'm getting excited 'bout the weekend
It should be sunny and my plans are thus:
To make music tonight, drink at the end
To fall asleep quickly would be a plus
Tomorrow, I'll take Jo to the Red House
With its maize maze, it should be amazing
Then Busking 4 Beer, Oldham - dangerous
Location, but should be fun, with singing
And poetry (that's me). Plans are, staying
In Oldham overnight; then lunchtime, wend
My way back home, let free creative juice
And possibly Bolton, Sunday evening
For a writer's group meeting. Can't defend
Marriage, when I've variety such as this...
Fri 19 Sept

1109 - Thursday's not the worst day

My knee’s been sore for days now, since Sunday
I banged it hard on the radiator
When I knew Pearl was staying on Wednesday…
I was cleaning the surfaces and floor
And banged it hard on the radiator
Last night’s Weber, Rachmaninov and Brahms -
The highlight, Brahms’ Symphony number 4 -
Went well, and then a curry in Rusholme’s
Al Mughal restaurant. Today the calm
In the flat was shattered, as we both played
For 3 hours, keys and electric guitar
From library sheet music I borrowed for
This very purpose. Pearl watched me read poems
For the first time, at the Museum Café
Then chips with Andy. Fun day, to be sure!
Thur 17 Sept

1108 - Shock absorber

My car awaits collection from Cedric's
Garage, in Hulme, after its MOT
I phoned earlier, to see what they'd fixed
Not too much wrong with it, surprisingly
Which is a financial relief to me
With my holiday in Spain not far off
I'll then pick up Pearl in Burnage; we'll see
A concert featuring Rachmaninov
At the Bridgewater Hall, all oldies, toffs
And us. Very bad news about Alex
The host of Andy's Bolton shows, who we
Have often hung around with, on and off
Missing in Panama for several weeks
His belongings still in his room... Scary
Wed 16 Sept

1107 - Shove thy neighbour

Those noisy buggers below struck again
Last night, the guy bellowing on the phone
At 1 am, then later, I heard them
Talking, music at 2:30 that droned
Upwards, drowning my quiet radio sound
Too bad, as today, had to get my car
MOT'd in Hulme, at Cedric's, then, soon
As poss, get to the office on foot: far
Enough, but worse when tired and late. At four-
Twenty, an eye test. New operation
With lasers an option. My eyes have grown
Dimmer since the first op in '01. Poor
Me, then I need to collect car, if / when
I can afford the repair bill I'm thrown...
Tue 15 Sept

1106 - The Rollright Stone

Am rapidly reading a Rolling Stones-
Related ream of recounting by Bill
Wyman. Why, man? And why did Brian Jones
That jaded junkie, jump into the pool?
Some pick on Mick, but sick enough to kill
An ex-friend on a bender, at the end
Of his tether? Neither he nor Keith will
Appear to care when they’re so quick to spend
Their cash, like Jumping Jack Flash. Old girlfriend
Of Brian’s, Anita - now Keith’s her own
Could he be why, man, a pale pile of pills
Were popped by Brian, high, low, and few friends?
Wyman’s a wiser man, his groaning bones
Are rolling into stone age, rolling still…

The Rollright Stones are ancient standing stones, west of Oxfordshire
Mon 14 Sept

1105 - The chips aren't down yet

Oh bloody hell, I must be really dumb
I’ve been redrafting poetry all day long
And evening too; now ten o’clock has come
And I forgot my sonnet! For so long
I’ve written one each day; yes, for so long
And I’ll continue, till the day I croak
So how did I forget? My brain belongs
To the dustbin. My memory’s a joke.
As a reward for all my literary work
(Alcohol’s not permitted), think I’ll bomb
Down Burnage Lane, home of the chip. Among
Four chip shops, I’ll spend without going broke
Then I’ll drive back here, pour gravy upon
My feast, and then I’ll eat it loud and long!
Sun 13 Sept

1104 - Rural Salford

Pale orange strip of sky over rooftops
Crowned by a refreshing shade of light blue
Around the point where blue starts, orange stops
A screen of green leaves from a tree or two
It always amazes, this Salford view
That feels like somewhere rural and rustic
While phases of sunny evening skies queue
To delight and surprise with rhetoric
Of natural watercolours, artless, thick
And smooth. As minutes pass, the orange drops
And fades, the blue changes to darker hue
A bright red street light shines behind the sticks
And branches of a tree no axe has chopped
A reminder of forests that once grew
Sat 12 Sept

1103 - Blue Friday

This famous date will live in infamy
The day I did ‘Blue Monday’ - acoustic!
Despite this, most were very kind to me
And that’s boosted my confidence, cos stick
Is hard to overcome, learning the trick
Of singing and performing live. But my
Own song, ‘You Are The Cat’ - got that down slick!
So one out of two ain’t too bad! I’ll try
To do more practising, and by and by
It should all eventually gel nicely!
The usual poets, and some new, a mix
Played at The Crescent tonight. Pleased that I
Bothered to do it, though stressful for me
But each time it gets closer to perfect!
Fri 11 Sept

1102 - This time we'll get it wrong again

So last night England qualified in style
For World Cup 2010, South Africa
Capello marshalled the lads all the while
Like an old, extremely strict, schoolmaster
Discipline is the watchword, much harsher
Than under Steve McLaren or Keegan
If he tells them not to be nervous, there
Are no nerves, even at Wembley - no, none!
And so, the barmy army shall feel sun
On their shaved heads next summer, as they file
Into Jo'burg, Cape Town, Pretoria
East London, Pietermaritzburg, Durban
Hoping to see the whites go the whole mile
And lift the World Cup! Dream on, lads, ha ha!!!
Thur 10 Sept

1101 - Blank summer

I've no great memories of the summer
It was just one of those blank periods
When looking back, I already wonder
What happened then? Just what was it I did?
I shall consult diary, see what it said
All I can find that sticks in the mind is
My few days in Ireland, and then it's dead
Apart from one day's clear-cut memories
Of taking Josie to see Manchester's
Asian festival in the sunshine. There
Is not much else that sticks out. Too much mud
And rain, and beer, has left a muddled mess
Of summer, or what I can remember
Too much work, maybe? Too much being good?
Wed 9 Sept

1100 - Sonnet from the wrong side of the moat

This is the 12th century of sonnets
I'm now well into the middle ages
And I cannot tell you how much fun it's
Been to travel through time and verse like this
I'm still in the remote past; reminisce
If you will, knights, crusades, pox large and small
Black teeth and rotting gums received your kiss
Deep in the shadows of the castle wall
Today survival seems incredible
Under these harsh conditions, but then let's
Picture future beings saying of us
How did they put up with all this? Appalled
They'll note our short lifespan, cancer, war... Gets
The thumbs down, I bet. A time better missed?
Tue 8 Sept

1099 - Drink and mugs

S’cuse me, I just need to nip to the loo
That’s better… It’s that big mug of coffee
That did it…And before that, I drank two
In the pub, one beer and one orange… See,
I was driving. And it’s been good lately
Driving to pubs: stops me drinking, smoking
Which I do when I’ve had a beer or three
It also helps my brain cope with writing
Whether there or later on, when sitting
At my writing desk, like I’m doing now…
Damn! I’ve just realised… In Sainsburys
I forgot bread rolls… So, there’s no making
Tomorrow’s lunch. I must remember to
Pop in there on the way to work, Tuesday
Mon 7 Sept

1098 - I am also the eggman

I wouldn’t mind some fish and chips right now
Should I be naughty and nip out? No, no
I’ll knock me up a quick snack soon somehow
And then I won’t miss any of this show
About The Beatles. Anyway, anyhow
I’ve got a few tins of beans calling me
I’ve got a bag of pasta that’s a wow
Pasta and beans sounds pretty good to me
It also looks simple and quite pretty
And doesn’t taste too bad. A food lowbrow
Is what I am, and also, I don’t know
Much about cooking - it’s boring, you see…
So now I’ve squeezed this poem out, allow
Me to go and eat supper. Let me go!
Sun 6 Sept

1097 - Help me, if you can, remember what I did

A lovely day at my Mum’s home, with Claire
(My sister) also there, and Josephine…
Had lunch at Ellie’s CafĂ© near there
And then me and Josie checked out the scene
Down Greasby park with all its tots and teens
They’re climbing up, down, all around the swings
Like little monkeys. Then, after we’d been
On the library computer, watching
Football back at my Mum’s, eating, chatting
Taking a few pics with my phone, then we’re
Off homewards. Got back quick, cos I was keen
To watch The Beatles programmes they’re showing…
They’re about to screen ‘Help’ - not seen that for
Twenty-five years or more… or so it seems
Sat 5 Sept

1096 - From Scotland to Salford

It’s freezing tonight. Got a jumper on
For the first time in several weeks, you know
It was quite warm earlier when the sun
Did its cameo up there in Glasgow
And Paisley, briefly popping its hat on
Psychedelically, but not parking it
No! Rain fell too, but not purple-hued. Down
It crashes, here on Salford, godlike spit
Lashing the gutters of a cleaner town
Than days of old that Ewen used to know
Now Ordsall is reborn, against odds, thrown
Into post-modern BBC-dom grown
The Quays to the new media kingdom
But cold it grows. May the sun shine on snow.
Fri 4 Sept

1095 - Glorious - and inglorious - Glasgow

Caught the Glasgow train, changing at Preston
Met John H. on the second of those trains
Another work trip up here in Scotland
You know, the cold place where it often rains
Walked through the hilly criss-cross streets like veins
Of colour stitched in tartan, right angles
And straight lines, angles and then more straight lines
And lines of schoolgirls, waves of student girls
Some jogging, washing my senses, eyes full
Caught the tube to Kelvingrove, standing on
The banks of the Clyde, by Partick Bridge. Seems
We got there too late to see Dali…Full
Of tandoori mixed grill, I went, alone
To watch ‘Inglourious Basterds’ … Damn Germans!
Thur 3 Sept

1094 - Self-discipline gone mad

Save it! Pay off your debts! Use less water!
Drive less, walk more, don't watch so much TV
Keep the heating turned off while temperatures
Are bearable; eat less, drink moderately
Get enough sleep; don't work too hard; just be
Yourself, do what you want, not what they say
But keep it legal, stay both young and free
Keep the right balance between work and play
Keep focused so that you can seize the day
Keep fit, and eat more fruit like you oughta
Use less gas, use less electricity
Follow the news, the arts, the markets… Pray
If it helps with the relentless pressure
But don't relax, even in bed, okay?
Wed 2 Sept

1093 - Not instant, but insistent Spanish

I’ve started learning Spanish once again
I took it at ‘A’ Level back at school
In ’81 we minibused round Spain
In ’82 myself and Andrew Bull
Stayed on the Costa Brava - not too cool
But Barcelona was within our reach -
Since then my Spanish has gone off the boil
It’s fallen off, an apathetic leech
But now I hear the call of blood and beach
Of sun and cathedrals, green hills and rain
I’ve drawn up rough plans for two weeks’ travel
From Biarritz to Porto, with the peach
Being Santiago, and Madrid when
I’m heading that way. Cielo azul…
Tue 1 Sept

1092 - (Inter)net profit

I'm nearly falling asleep at my desk
Because I stayed sober until the end
Tonight, awake till two, completing tasks
That often get neglected. Tried to mend
The recent fall-off of poems; I spent
Some time on a new one, posting it on
The Write Out Loud site, where I've been absent
Not having chatted or posted since June
I also blogged on MySpace; I've redone
My new tune, 'Red' on there, so thought I'd ask
Them to listen again. Messaged some friends
And uploaded two videos, first one
The view from Tour Montparnasse, then the masque
Known as 'Insanesburys' which should leave ‘em stunned…
Mon 31 Aug

1091 - Do You Know The Way To San Manchester?

I waited for an age at St Pancras
Outside the Eurostar arrivals door
Then finally Pearl, in a yellow dress
Was visible, waving, glad I was there
To help with the bags. We went to my car
And drove around Camden Town for a while
Because I went the wrong way. But, this star
Soon found the A1 again. Ate a pile
Of food at London Gateway, and we smiled
And chatted there for what seemed like ages
Catching up, talking about art, before
We drove up the M1 and M6, mile
After mile in the rain. Bacharach plays
‘Do You know the Way to San Manchester?’
Sun 30 Aug

1090 - The Brewers didn't droop today

Just for the record, that song yesterday
I thought I’d lost, is now okay, online!
Now to the activities of today
A football match at Burton Albion
And, for a change, an entertaining one
With five goals, the match finishing 3-2
Burton’s three goals all coming within ten
Minutes of the start. Their first goal, it drew
Gasps of amazement. Something you don’t do
As a keeper, with the ball, is delay
Kicking it clear, but this Northampton
Goalie did delay! Burton said thank you,
Their striker dispossessed him right away,
And popped it in the open net. Played, son!
Sat 29 Aug

1089 - Out of tune, out of time

Oh no! Oh no! A week’s work is ruined!
I finished a tune tonight, so I thought
But at the last moment evil gremlins
Crept into the mix, and tore it apart
I can’t save it now; I will have to start
From scratch on Monday, re-record it all
This music software, it’s broken my heart
A week of work’s been reduced to fuck all
The tune was ‘Red’ - but now it’s just a pall
Of smoke from a bonfire, blown in the wind
It won’t play properly, it keeps stopping short
Then starting again. Sounds bloody awful.
Maybe in a past life, or this, I sinned
But I must live with what my fate has dealt
Fri 28 Aug

1088 - Hard labour for my neighbour

The bloody neighbours are at it again
One night it's sex, a lovey-dovey pair
The next it's nagging, screaming argument
I've really lost my patience; I hate her
More than him now. It's her causing the stir
That interrupts my rest, and makes me tired
There is a music open night later
I wanted to attend, but I've retired
Due to my tiredness, due to her weird
Oscillation between love and hate. When
Will women get a grip; not just their hair
But their emotions need it! Always fired
Up about stuff that, by contrast, we men
Couldn't give a stuff about. We don't care!
Thur 27 Aug

1087 - It's who you know, you know

It’s who you know, you know. Who do you know?
You know who you should know, you know you should
No doubt you know you could, but you say, No!
I’m proud, I’ll only know you if you’re good
If you stand out, you know your name is mud
You know you’ll miss out, and no-one will care
For you know there’s this secret brotherhood
You must know the name of everyone there
You know the game, the rules of fame aren’t fair
You know you’re to blame, if you play too slow
You know you’ll be shamed, head hid in a hood
You know you shouldn’t brood, but you beware
Of saying No. No, just go with the flow
Know who you should know, oh, you know you should!
Wed 26 Aug

1086 - Things

Things that aren’t done: a pile of ironing
Things that aren’t done: finding the right partner
Things that aren’t done: holiday room booking
Things that aren’t done: finding the right lover
Things I won’t do: buy a vacuum cleaner
Things I won’t do: get married to a nag
Things I won’t do: be a lottery sucker
Things I won’t do: be put into your bag
Things I should do: drink less beer, smoke less fags
Things I should do: more positive thinking
Things I should do: buy clothes and dress smarter
Things I should do: cough during neighbour’s shags
Things that I’ve done: well, lots of existing
Things I’ve not done: things in the right order
Tue 25 Aug

1085 - Mumbling and grumbling

I ache with tiredness, such tiredness
That film last night, then reading for a while
Then hearing sex one floor below; all this
And waking up early has cramped my style
Too tired to play guitar, or swim the Nile
Wonder if I’ll ever go to Egypt,
Or tread on Asian or Australian soil?
Probably - most do, these days. Most have tripped
Out of their dull surroundings, open-lipped
In wonder…Or were they bored, wanting rest
From the sheep-herding process and the vile
Heat? I know how they feel; energy’s slipped
To a new low, so when I’ve written this
I’ve got a film to watch: it’s called ‘Basque Ball…’
Mon 24 Aug

1084 - Ashes of the day

12:30... I’m watching ‘Isolation,’
A late-night horror-fest (it’s on Film Four)
Starring John Lynch, set in rural Ireland
A cow gives birth to monsters, and before
You know it, their sharp teeth are spreading gore
Earlier on, I lost at tennis again
Won four games in a two set encounter
I’ll beat him one day, but I don’t know when
Watched sport for hours when I got back in
The last of the athletics from Berlin
England won The Ashes back from those poor
Australian fellows! Then, from eight till ten-
Past eleven, I worked on ‘Red’ again
(I last worked on it twenty years before!)
Sun 23 Aug

1083 - Even you look cute when you're asleep

Even you look cute when you are asleep
Most people do and you’re no exception
In a sleep or coma’s where you should keep
And to you then I’d have no objection
Be sure you don’t snore in my direction
Or else I’ll move you into the basement
And soundproof it to remove detection
Of your presence completely, like you went
And never came back, physical presence
Minimised, verbals neutralised, no peep
From you from dawn till dusk. I ask you, when
Will you from my life remove yourself hence?
But even you look cute when you’re asleep
Your personality in remission
Sat 22 Aug

1082 - I'm for the high jump

I love those long thin lady high-jumpers
They look so cute and thoughtful as they wait
So childlike, so alone, so full of nerves
The close-up shots tell all. They hesitate
Then finally, with slow, long-legged gait
They start on their run towards the high bar
Approaching, they quickly accelerate
Like planes they take off, one, then another
They arch their backs in slow-mo in mid-air
A side view, from front or back, well, who cares?
They land upside down (or 'arse over tit')
The cameraman zooms in to fix them there
Then, unfrozen, the girls take their applause
The right way up again. This event's great!
Fri 21 Aug

1081 - A little less poetry, a little more music, please

I'm excited by the turn of events
As I switch further from the poetry
To the music, though some old poetry friends
Might not understand, might not want to see
Or hear the results. For, initially
They saw me struggling out of my cocoon
Concluded I should get back in, unfree
To fly around, unbound, though very soon
This metamorphosis could mean I've grown
In confidence and happiness. We're meant
To do whatever comes most naturally
I've struggled to write novels, spooned and Juned
Tunes are easy as falling off a fence
With no effort, they all just fly to me
Thur 20 Aug

1080 - Open mic night at the Stamford Arms

I’m sat here with Andy, Jeff and Russell
A new open mic music night is on
We’ve done our first two songs each. Not sure, will
We do another? It’s approaching ten
That’s not so late - we sound like we’re old men
Well, Andy wants to go in half an hour
(It’s his fault!) The audience numbers ’bout ten
One guy drove up from Shrewsbury. That’s poor -
All that way, for this! By the way, the score
Was Burnley 1 and Man United 0!!
That kept the football crowd quiet. We won
The battle ’gainst their roars. I hope no more
Man U. domination of the League… Well,
As long as Moneybags Chelsea don’t win…
Wed 20 Aug

1079 - Tuesday news day

Refreshed by sleep, a pleasant change, I rose
Reluctantly to work, cloudy but warm
Black shirt, black trousers, black shoes were my clothes
No funeral, just work today: the norm
Was reasserted, to which I conform
Reluctantly. Sometimes, though, it’s quite fun
Better, maybe, than keeping safe and warm
And fat and lonely at home. Got stuff done
Staying till five thirty, then had to run
To catch the News At Six. Shopping, got those
Things I needed from Sainsbury’s. Alarm
At the pear-shaped state of Afghanistan
Forgot to get bananas. Tomorrow’s
A music open mic night, Altrincham
Tue 18 Aug

1078 - A sabre for my neighbour

The latest on the neighbours down below
(Where two men are now shouting and laughing…)
Where is the woman? The one who followed
The resident man, howling and screaming
Abuse at him from morning to evening:
Echoing down the staircase as he went;
Ascending through my floorboards at going
To bed time and beyond… But now he’s bent
On cheering himself up. His friend has lent
His company, his sick piggy ho-ho
A traumatic reminder of that spring
And summer ’06, when at indecent
Hours of the night, these two losers would throw
Wild and long sessions, whooping and drinking
Mon 17 August

1077 - Stone soul survivor

Some people climb mountains, strain their utmost
Some people start businesses, work all day
Some people take it slow, with tea and toast
Some people, like me, find things hard to say
But never fear, if words all slip away
Or there’s no-one to hear, no-one to text
Just play some favourite music; you’ll find they
Don’t matter. You’ve found beauty so complex
Beauty that never ages, never sets
Out to cause pain. Guardian angel ghost
You flit from long dead brain into mine. Play,
Play on till I’m asleep, my genius guest -
Only you understand, are not opposed
To soul’s expression through some other way
Sun 16 Aug

1076 - The wasps (Aristophanes meets Hitchcock)

Unusually for me, garden centres
Were where I hung out most of Saturday
It’s Josephine you have to blame for this
She wanted a particular cuddly toy
Woodford Garden Centre’s not far away
And they have fish for sale you can smile at
As they dart back and forth, all day, all day
Some look electric; some whiskered like cat
The rain stopped, so Madame decided that
We sit outside, where we both heard the buzz
Of wasps, attracted by her bright jelly
And my tomato sauce (one walked in it!)
Next - Brookside (Poynton): another wasp was
Sat on my cheeseburger. Twice in one day!
Sat 15 Aug

1075 - Guess what I forgot

Guess what? I forgot to write this sonnet
Until I’d turned out the light, gone to bed
It’s not surprising - easy to forget
So many things are boiling in my head
Priority today was that I should
Set up a music site on MySpace. Done!
A few have checked it out, so that’s quite good
Though disappointed - messages were none
Apart from one from Debs. Still - one is one…
After that, I redid vocals that let
Down ‘When I Was In Paris,’ and that fed
My desire to do more. Popped out, got some
Beer, and began work on ‘Green’ - Yes, that
Old chestnut from ’90! Now, back to bed
Fri 14 Aug

1074 - Well done, me!

Off work, to catch up on my art projects
Falling behind (I blame technology!)
It’s worked so far: typed up all my sonnets
And now I’m on today’s one (as you see!)
What else? Well, emailed those who emailed me
Then ordered my first external hard drive
And a case for it. My next holiday
Is now partly planned: booked my flight: arrive
Biarritz, 6th October, and then leave
From there on the 20th. I expect
To cross the Pyrenees, go all the way
To Galicia and Portugal (how brave!)
What else? Well, I’ve written some new lyrics
And planned my new album. So… Well done me!
Thur 13 Aug

1073 - Death of a website

It’s 1.30 a.m. Winding down now
After madly typing up my sonnets
Though Blogger and Google would not allow
Me to, I snook into my own website:
Antonionioni.com… ‘Right!’
I thought, ‘I’m in! I’ll take this chance to post
My backlog of blogs, if it takes all night!’
For nearly two hours I posted the most
I could, and then… Shut out! That site’s now toast!
Chatted a bit online, a bull and cow
Discussion between male and female sex
Then back to typing sonnets (but no posts)
They’re only on my hard drive (well, for now)
Next, I must plan for my brand new website!
Wed 12 Aug

1072 - Flu news and new news

I wish they’d stop talking about swine flu
Why don’t they drop that dead donkey this week?
Who Jordan’s going out with’s always news
Hang on! There’s the Star - think I’ll take a peek!
Little serious news issues to leak
During this dull Parliamentary recess
The heat over expenses was unique
They turned Hazel Blears’ car into a mess
When the MP thought she should show her face
In a poor part of Salford. Never you
Mind, Hazel. Next summer you’ll have to seek
New employment, hopefully with less stress
At least the football’s back. There’s more to view
On TV and to talk about at work
Tue 11 Aug

1071 - Dreamslide

Another week at work, or maybe I’ll
Take at least one day off to get stuff done
Like websites, poetry, music - I’m miles
Behind with all of it… Though it’s real fun
Chatting to friends and family, there’s one
Person who is neglected, and that’s me!
You have to be selfish sometimes. I am
Quite selfish, but not quite enough, sadly
To achieve stuff. I wonder, could it be
Because of work and family, a while
Has gone by already; the years have gone
When opportunity was aplenty?
Still, I must be determined; I must still
Pursue the dream of getting something done!
Mon 10 Aug

1070 - Day of rest

Sunday, the day of rest, that precious thing
But life seems to short sometimes for that rest
And yet, if I’m honest, it’s hard to bring
All of my energy to things I must
Think that I want to do. And is it best
To relax, recharge batteries, have fun
Even when guilt is nagging, like a host
Of black bats, from the things I haven’t done?
Been offline for a month; then something wrong
With my spacebar, after a slight lifting
To clean out crumbs. I should’ve left that mess
Because my Dell laptop is a cheap one
Hunter has fixed it, though, with spit. Thanking
Him, and Affia, his sister - I’m impressed!!
Sun 9 Aug

1069 - The long drive

So tired this evening. Drove down to London
An early start, no time to hang around
The journey began soon after seven
On petrol I spent at least fifty pounds
Took Louis to his new home, which we found
With difficulty, near Harrow High Street
He got the keys while I waited around
Then 40 miles north again in the heat
To Milton Keynes, where driving is a treat
If you go the wrong way you just drive on
To the next roundabout and turn around!
We found Stadium MK and took our seats
Sadly, a 0-0 draw was all we’d gone
All that way for… Then drove Louis back down…
Sat 8 Aug

1068 - Flat out

Today was sunny, so what did we do?
Went to an indoor swimming pool, of course!
Then pigged out at McDonald’s. I bought two
New tyres today. My front left one had burst
Early this morning on the way to hers
Waited for ages for the RAC
To change my tyre. I thought, ‘I hope my spare’s
Somewhere in the boot.’ It was, luckily
Although it was dangerously rusty
Went to more than one branch of Kwik-Fit to
Replace it with a better one, because
Tomorrow’s drive to London with Louis
Must be done safely. He’s moving into
New digs. The new football season! (Applause…)
Fri 7 Aug

1067 - Stranglehold

This year the Tower of London was begun
And Winchester Castle was also built
The stranglehold tightening beneath our chin
That Norman bastard immune to his guilt
Not only then, but ever since, blood spilt
Red and white, defending ill-gotten gains
Invasion turned outward now, with the Celt
The French, the Indian fleeing their own plains
And heading for the hills with our refrain
Of longbow arrows, cannon, knife and gun
A pleasant serenade; the pipes and kilts
Adding ethnic diversity, the strain
Of Scottish airs over the great Asian
Mountain ridges as shallow graves are filled
Thur 6 Aug

1066 - 1066 and all that

I do believe that this could be the first
Sonnet number that is a famous date
1066 was the year of the worst
Thing ever to befall England; its fate
To be ruled by French-speaking Normans. Great
Slaughter, cruelty, castles built by us
So they could lord it. They still dominate
The skyline, on their hills; their feudal curse
Is still alive today. The invaders’
Descendants still, to this day, fill their purse
By owning a fifth of this land. Irate?
You bet I am! The House of Lords infers
Lingering inequality, and where’s
Its abolition? Labour, it’s too late!
Wed 5 Aug

1065 - Hadn't had any beer till I wrote this

Feel tired: took too long dozing off last night
Too excited at being back online
Well now I must continue the good fight
Of reading all the emails from that time
I had no net (more than a month), though I’m
Already halfway there; I’ve binned the junk
Now it’s the good stuff: video of rhyme
And music from Bantry, an event sunk
Now in the past, but one of which I think
Lots of images survive. There were quite
A few comments in my inbox, so I’m
About to read and reply. Like a monk
I’m teetotalling for the second night…
Or shall I get some beer? Hardly a crime…!!
Tue 4 August

1064 - Nearly forgot

Nearly forgot to write this poor sonnet
Was lying in bed trying to relax
After a long and busy day, when it
Seemed like I got much done; firstly, in tax
Matters: drove to Blackburn, was late, so max
Speed on the motorways of Lancashire
And when it was over, then I made tracks
Back to the Salford office. I appeared
Smart in the shirt and purple tie I wore!
Was waiting for a text about my net
Connection by O2, but they were lax
They texted the wrong mobile number. Der!
Despite this, got my internet all set
Up, but not wireless, not yet. Now… relax!
Mon 3 August

1063 - Sports, music and broadband sonnet

Sunny (in spells) at last, and so tennis
Was at last possible, Sunday morning
With Louis, and the first set was so close
I almost won, but ended just losing
Well, I felt tired. Not bad, considering…
And after that, back home. I had my lunch
While watching Sky Sports News. Football’s starting
Again, you see. Next Saturday’s the crunch
Opening day, except for the big bunch
Of Premier clubs, all insisting on us
Waiting an extra week till appearing.
Worked hard on ‘Paris.’ Tomorrow, my hunch
Is I’ll be busy sorting out my biz,
Internet-wise. I’m back on! Loud cheering!
Sun 2 August

1062 - The old songs are the best

It’s gone 2.30 in the morning, and
I’ve been hard at work all day doing things
I read my post, sorted out phone, broadband
Then rearranged my song, to which I sing
‘When I Was In Paris’ - a pretty thing
An acoustic and electric version
Now exists. After that, was listening
To songs from ’94 and 2000
And, I almost forgot, from ’91
And I was amazed at these tapes I found
And the tunes I’d forgotten, precious things
I’d worked hard on at the the time. Ten years on
From the last one, I wonder… Can I mend
These broken dreams, these old favourite things?
Sat 1 August

1061 - Larks in parks

Up early. Alarm, quarter to seven
Big day today: Wilmslow at eight o’clock
Took Josie to Altrincham early on
The sun shone as we played in Stamford Park
And I ordered books from a music shop
So she can play piano in summer
We then went to Hale, to another park
And then Macclesfield, to yet another!
We stayed in South Park for maybe three hours
And yet again we both gorged on chicken
Back to my flat for tea, eye on the clock
Tonight’s show was ‘Walking With Dinosaurs’
At M.E.N. Arena - a good one
And now, relaxing after that hard work!
Fri 31 July 2009