Poetry - March 2007

Harvesting The Island of Vertigo

As a child my father would buy lots of albums
By bands not everyone had heard of
But that never mattered to him and his music
Because if you didn't like them - that was just tough
I'd watch the records spin round on the turntable
With their distinctive centres hypnotising me
Another purchase from a record shop later
And it'd be a new disc spinning at thirty three
He would play his Roy Harper on the Harvest label
With the two tone green and its distinct logo
He'd rock out playing the loudest Black Sabbath possible
And the black and white spun round on spiral Vertigo
John Barleycorn Must Die was another album played
As the white I on the Island pink label was spinning round
Then later on when Roxy Music were making it big
The palm tree on pink rim became prog rock's new ground.

(Memories are made of being a child and listening to some cool stuff.)

I Wish I Could Play Guitar

Radiohead once sang anyone could play guitar
They were obviously lying as my dexterity lets me down
I can pluck a few strings and play plenty of wrong notes
But nothing that I'd call a tune that I'd be semi proud of
When I try to hold the stringed instrument and want to play
All lack of timing and sense in my body just takes over
It frustrates me because I can hum a song in my head
And I can't just transcribe those thoughts on a six string
If I could just manage to play one great guitar riff
And feel like a rock god for just a few wonderful seconds
I'd at least feel contented that I can really do something different
But back to songwriting I'm just going to have to go.

(I am so rubbish at stuff like that. If I could play a humming instrument and just find a way of translating those notes, I'd do alright. Maybe I need to be like Gary Barlow, write songs for others and make my money that way)

If There Was Any Justice In The World

If there was any justice in the world right now
The following things would happen at some point in time
Firstly, criminals wouldn't have any priveleges in prison
They'd be treated like the scum who rob your house
And threaten you with violence to get their own evil way
Secondly, those who commit rape would be castrated
And they would be permanently on an offenders register
Getting a life sentence for ruining someone else's life
Thirdly, there would be laws that protect the innocent
And not make you feel guilty for reporting a crime
Being made a suspect when you're the actual victim
And lastly the one thing of all that I'd want in justice
Is that the punishment should fit the crime
And it wouldn't matter if you were ten or a hundred and ten
You do the crime - you do the time, it's as simple as that
That will never happen under a Blair-shite Government.

(You know sometimes I get really frustrated with the way the law and justice system works in this country. Is there any irony or correlation in the fact that the more nasty the punishment, the less crime there is?)

K

I wish I was one of the strings on your Collings guitar
So that I'd be plucked with sweet sounds
Emnating forth with that Southern accented voice
And making music such a beautiful soundscape.

(I'll leave it to you to work out what this might be about.)

Smile

I see you
Your face is a picture
And in that picture is your smile
That makes more than beauty
Your mind is at rest
Your thoughts are with yourself
Happiness is there
Your smile says it all
No amount of money
Could buy or replace
The wonderful emotion
Of a radiant smile
It exudes confidence
It shows happiness and warmth
And the glow from you shows
How you feel inside
And what is more
The smile is yours
It makes you beautiful.

(Simple, but to the point.)