Into The Light

So long in the darkness

A beautiful world faded and lost

Pinpricks in a black universe 

Rogues shooting up to the surface 

Pulsing for a little while, suspended 

Then dissolving into night

 

Millions of them, each a perfect movie 

Once at my beck and call

Automatic, remembered them all

Stored in sensory data-bases

Accessible, open, places, faces

Memories, mine

Now viewed only randomly 

 

Within a multi-complex mind 

Pictures of the life I led 

Rolling on big screens, inside

Strictly at their choosing, for I am powerless

No control over what is coming soon 

 

Except one

The one repeating every day

I do not order it, there is no order

A spark of regularity in chaos

Not chosen, but willed

Venerated recall

 

We went a long time ago, that piece of iced land

On our first date we shared the same, secret ambition

An impossible dream, binding us together 

No money, no nothing, just the clothes we were married in

But we went anyway, the incredible made real

 

Held hands in the small hours, shivered in the cold

Standing, waiting, hoping, smiling

Before the horizon blazed a green rainbow

And the heavens danced, shimmered, glowed

Cascading down to us, witnesses on our watch

Ambition achieved, heads held high,

The greatest show on Earth and she kissed me under the sky

Of all the movie memories I ever made

‘The Northern Lights’ will never fade

 

I am my own audience, morning, noon or night 

Scenes, sounds and the lights

The whole wonderful show playing deep inside my consciousness

Raining colours, solar winds of the spectrum

Two people, one perfect wish coming true

We came, we saw and we kept that moment forever new

 

Now you say are going to the very same place

Telling me hoping I will remember

An iconic family event retraced

Wishing she was with us once more to share the surprise

 

How I envy your unborn thrill

Arriving through space at incredible speeds

You will jump and dance like she and I 

The children will squeal under the greens, mauves, reds and blues

The wondrous particles colliding miles into the air

Big science exploding across a natural planetarium

And you will understand the moment will be all

 

I will sit in darkness at the zenith of your joy

The Aurora will dazzle you but my void will remain

No matter, no matter, because the movie will roll again

Awe and power will come back to me

When my memory repeats and my eyes are set free

I Cannot Forget Her Face

I cannot forget her face

Corner, crowds, the sacrifice of life

Riding to glory, the memory cuts

My peace, my every dream like a knife

 

The beauty and my beast

In Royal colours and summer gown

I cannot forget her face

As I raced to cut her down

 

She fell standing for her right

Righting wrongs by half our race

Her soul's in heaven, mine awaits my fate

I cannot forget her face. 

The jockey of the King’s Derby horse that killed suffragette Emily Davison committed suicide years later. One theory, though often discounted, is that he could not forget her face.

When

When Bretton Woods came to Maze Hill

The gold standard not far from the Standard

A Mexican tash rasping a laugh

An economic truth had landed 

 

How green were our U-shaped valleys

How were your moraines stranded?

A little lad out of Blackpool

A geographic truth had grounded

 

On shining roads the sun still shines

So many lives defined by their lines.

To Gordon and Barry - two of my teachers 

Royal History Rag

Two Williams, a Henry, Steve ’n Tilda

Sister brother and Henry Platagenta

Richard, John, Henry third

Then it was Edward three I heard

Richard til Henry four stole the crown

Henry five and six, Eddy York in town

Mad Henry revived, Eddy back in

Dying quickly, son Ed as King

Richard, hunchback, murder, tower

Hello Henry seven, Tudor

Henry eight, Ed, Mary then Liz

Who handed Scottish Stuarts back the biz

James and Charles led to Civil War

Cromwell a bit before Stuarts once more

Charlie was merry and Jamie was banned

So William and Mary from the Netherlands

Anne before Hanover George number one

Three more Georges then Will-i-am

Queen Vic, and Ed/George twice rotate

Elizabeth 2 – we were up to date

But now Chas 3 has sealed his fate

Robin

Gather rosebuds

Extraordinary

Springsteen fire Phudd

Genie.

 

Big Adventure

Life is fleeting

Dead Poet mentor

Mr Keating

For Robin Williams

The Future To Come

High on General Wolfe’s crow’s eye view
To the City and the new City on an island of the past
Balances our lives from then until now
Easy tilting back, harder facing new

Old white buildings, towers into the sky
Memories of our memory, playgrounds in time
The panorama is what we knew and what we know
Never out of sight, never questioning why

But the future pulls us forward, into some
Different view, some land beyond the balance
A general perspective always changing as we age
So lives yet to be can live what’s to come

Pure Place

Pure place 

This is it

Two lost lovers

Face to face sit

 

Pure location

Before the sun set

Two yearning souls

Once more met

 

Pure attraction

Years gone past

Two talking heads

Love to last

 

Pure cafe

Coffee and cassis

Jesse and Celine

In love, Paris

At Le Pure cafe, Paris - a location for the film Before Sunset

Sense of Place

Senses awake in a sense of place

Catching the air, catching its trace

Moments in time, moments of grace

When the world is wearing a kinder face

 

Senses alive in a sense of waking

Making you think, here for the taking

Memories kept, memories forsaking

When hope is eternal and the future is shaking

Hyde Park, London

Mawgan Porth

Floated the boat on captured water

Hissing, ripping tide on danger rocks

Sand as far as you could see

Auntie in one of her flowered frocks

Hand hold on the steep cliff edge

Three boys at the cloud day beach

Ocean pounding in on the wind

A memory still within my reach

Area

Pitching down peer, plants padlock grill

Open air upwards, white walls to sky

So many scenes remembered

Smokes smoked, spoken truths and lies

 

London lower down, doorstep domesticity 

Over the railings, below the stairs

A house of hidden secrets

That passers-by shared

 

What happened here, what dreams were dreamt?

What futures were planned, what futures took place?

What rows were rowed by the people who hated?

What loves were pledged when lovers embraced?

A basement area in Bloomsbury

1791

A year looked over the wall at me

While walking in the park

Top of the house white masonry

Read 1791

 

I’d heard on the radio yesterday

While driving in the car

The great Michael Faraday

Born 1791

 

Modern power started that year

Sing the world electric

So what other things came all too clear

In 1791?

 

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart died 

Vienna paid no heed

God, alone, stood and cried

In 1791

 

Thomas Paine’s Rights of Man

Published in London Town

Biting the Establishment’s hand

In 1791

 

The French Royal Family was caught

Fleeing the Revolution

The divine right of Kings at nought

In 1791

 

Frederick finished the Brandenburg Gate 

In the city of Berlin

Frederick William not Frederick the Great

In 1791

 

The US Bill of Rights was born

Amendments to the Constitution passed

Heralding a brand new dawn?

In 1791

 

A year peeped over the wall at me

In Greenwich, the home of time

No ordinary year as you can see

1791

1888

Two hundred  years from the Glorious

So many Revolutions around the sun

A web of history cobbled and spun

I was curious

 

Still looking like a red-brick school 

So many pupils through the gates

A lot of lessons learned, a lot of dates

A few fools

 

Jack the Ripper first stalked the City

Prostitutes butchered for fun

A Martha Tabram was one

Killed without pity

 

Benjamin Harrison’s Presidential win

So the Washington Monument opened its doors

A White House with yet some more bores

Who remembers him? 

 

Vincent van Gogh cut off his ear

So on the edge with art and life

A sunflower cut with depression and strife

Genius with fear

 

Raymond Chandler was born to die

So Philip Marlow always in debt

A private dick, a perfect gimlet

Saying a Long Goodbye

Andy Warhole was Lonely

So Andy Warhol was lonely

Eating Campbell’s soup on his own 

In kitchens at all tomorrow’s parties 

Downtown Greenwich Village down

 

So Andy Warhol was lonely

A creative New Yorker apart

Hid behind his paraphernalia

Alone and lonely with art

Im Arbendrot

Bowie wept Im Arbendrot

Genius tears from Jean Genie’s eyes

Four last songs to last

Until the sunset of the dying day dies

 

Richard’s valleys fading

Larks ascending into the heavens like dots

Disappearing into sleep

Death’s long farewell Im Arbendrot

David Bowie wept hearing Im Arbendrot - from Four Last Songs by Richard Strauss

The Master

Playing by the book

The strategies the players took

Moving round the battlefield

The Master who would never yield

 

Matters all in black and white

The grit and grapple of the fight

Champions full of grace and hate

The Master never losing mate

 

Winning in the winner's style

The plan, the wisdom and the guile

All aboard the ancient game

The Moscow Master, the greatest name

For chess grandmaster Alexander Alekhine

A Hidell

His name for the gun was A Hidell

The gun that wreaked a hill of hell

Or did it? Did it? Did it? Well

There lies the secret of A Hidell

 

His place in history is A Hidell

Or his other name if truth to tell

Who? What? Where? How? Well

These are the questions of A Hidell 

 

No-one may have ever known A Hidell

The man with our theories under his spell

Guilty? Patsy? Innocent? Well

A piece of the world died as he fell

Alias of Lee Harvey Oswald

Place

Where once we ran and played

In innocent days

Where once we left that far-off trace

Imprinted our sense of place

Where moonlit lips first lifted to kiss

Never forgetting this

Where eyes smiled on the kissers face

Sealed the moment of place

Where lives decided to stay together

Something always remembered

Where life-long pledges pledged in grace

Defined our sense of place

Whiteless

So near the top, so far away

Came to a sudden stop that day

And stared for hours at what had been given me

Full up and bursting with an enormity

Shouted out loud the cry within the breast

Whiteless, Whiteless, Whiteless

 

Because there were four jumps to the sky

The boy is a man from all the years gone by

Sail across the clouds or row to land and end

Remember the jagged face as you ran to descend

Returned to peak

 

Looking large the edge of fear

A giant blade to cut and tear

But this side of safety a walk in the wind

Only a panorama to mind

A Red Sea lies at your feet

 

Across the green glint lap of the mere

You can glimpse a future from here

Only oppressed if you would wish it so

Only down if not up you would go

A hole in the wall and you can really walk through

 

A life lives in your heart even when senses are tense

You can live in a cage if you won't leap the fence

At the turn of the road down to where the lakes lie

Under the summits you can touch bye and bye

To shout when you see happiness

Whiteless, Whiteless, Whiteless

 

 

On seeing Whiteless Pike in the Lake District

Mass for Mary

Quick at the door streaming a choir flowing down stream

Images across the bridge and to the lights of the night

The cultured mass of sounds from a Mass

Amo, Amas,

The old adoration on a cinema screen

The song of a little boy

Telling the care of Mary

Notre Dame, a saint to inspire spires

Hushed by an old lady handing out prayers

As ranked monks chant Latin over the Latin quarters

Half a life away, half a river away

Somehow took your breath away

I could believe it here

She crossed herself and walked away

As I did back to a secular place

A Mass at Notre Dame, Paris

Gare du Nord

Echo Art Deco?

Arriving to see the departing arrive

Sounds into the wild air

A fare can take you anywhere

Across Europe's divide

And probably more besides

When all aboard

Gare du Nord

Paris

The Point Of It All

I see the point of it all

Diamonds of glass

In the square of figures

Tipping to the sky

The treasures beneath

From ages past

The conquests' haul

Before the gardens

Far before after the deaths

Beyond the arch and to the Arch

Provoking the call to heaven

A human point on a platform for God

Outside The Louvre, Paris