Roundabout

Round and round we go

Those who know

Or those who just flow

We’re all struggling rats trying to get round this infernal maze

Yet it’s the same maze – we all have the same DNA, and we nearly all follow similar paths, similar problems, similar doubts.

And we all face the same end.  Scientist, evangelist, Farage or Tony Benn – we’ll all be gone.  Whatever empire, dynasty, body of work or child we leave behind, we won’t know about it.  Sorry, spiritualists.

So here we are, and then we go.

Albert Einstein

Or just Joe Blow.

A cosmic voyage from the heart of a star to the heart of Crawley, Hearts are won then hearts are lost, but we exit as we came in – alone.  Well , apart from the trillions of bacteria hitching a ride.  The poor will not inherit the Earth – that’ll be bacteria.  Come asteroid or plague, we will be gone, but those wee lads will soldier on.

And the cycle re-boots.

On and on, and round and round.

A perfect circle.

And the lost are found.

And the Sun shines down

I love this Earth and here make my way

Bawling bare bairn, through the ward my cries tear

And the Sun shines down on another day

Grazed knees; cut elbows; proud badges of play

Picking berries on Hill; mum’s laugh never rare

And I love this Earth and here make my way

We couple on hill grass in sun-pressed May

In the heat of love, as swifts fan the air

And the Sun shines down on another day

Another love, science, blows me away

Feynman’s a ferryman: carries me there

And I love this Earth and here make my way

Lovers and friends exit left from life’s play

Yet flowers sill bloom; the sky is still fair

And the Sun shines down on another day

Now sad-faced black suits will have their last say

As down I go gently; soil for my hair

And I love this earth and here make my way

And the Sun shines down on another day.

Stroking velvet

Soft skin covered in fine blond hairs

To stroke it was like touching velvet

Or is that just my memory embroidering the page?

Memories are not reality

They are not the moment; the instant

They are The Bayeux Tapestry

(And that was an embroidery; and not from Bayeux)

So we are back again to our need for folklore and magic

Religion and conspiracy theories

The triumph of ape brain over upstart neo-cortex

We are not rational; we are humans

We are not irrational; we are humans

But it really was... like... stroking velvet...

That time of year again

The annual Bricklayers BBQ and music day is nearly upon us.
Here's a blog I wrote 7 years ago - and it's still going strong.

Beer, barbies, bands and birds

3:47 PM, Tuesday, May 29, 2007 

Sunday was the annual all-day thrash at a local pub in Shamley Green.  3 local bands, and a selection of real ale and cider from barrels in beer-tents out the back (and a barbie).   Pretty full bar, and a good atmosphere from 2 onwards.  I remember singing along ("with gusto") to songs from the Kinks, Eagles, Beatles, The Who… all the usual suspects.   I've only really got into pub groups late in life, but it can be great fun.   This was nice in that it really is an annual local village event; everyone is from around there, and lots of kids were enjoying it with their parents.  One tiny tot was cradled in his mother’s arms, wide-eyed and clapping quite well to the beat of ‘One of these nights…’.  Lots of regulars from my normal local The Jolly were there for the day, and we even had the added bonus of bird #1 - a band leader’s girlfriend, who is built as girls are usually only built in Hollywood… 18 !  Jings – can you get arrested for looking at my age? 

Mass exodus to the bus-stop in the evening as The Jolly’s customers, and barmaids past and present, headed down for the quiz night/work behind the bar.  Stopped off first at another local to check on a drinker who had a scary attack last time I was there – good to hear he apparently had no lasting damage.  And guess what - they had a band playing too, so more duets with Snr. Gusto... ole...

Monday – ah, this is when I realise I can’t quite cope as I used to.  It’s the day afterwards when I feel totally rotten and have a head like a punched cabbage, so watched footy and did bugger-all that was useful.  However did see bird#2 – actually six of them, Great Tit chicks that just left my nesting box a week before and were back feeding, making a din and playing tag – don’t they look like they're really having fun?  Discovered they let you get very close to them at this age as I put an extra feeder up on the tree.

Tuesday – bird #3.  Sadly, not Richard’s girlfriend again, but a peacock.  Landed on a conservatory roof opposite, and wandered around – looking a bit dim - for hours afterwards.   See that’s Surrey for you – even the pigeons are posh down here.   I was hoping he would fly over here so the cocky ginger Tom from next door might get taught a bit of a lesson, but he seems to have flounced off now – peacock like, I guess.

Nearly recovered... :-)

What's the matter?

So now my ear is gone

Ex lover, ex partner, my ex nearly friend

To whom I talked and nearly listened

Nearly heard, nearly understood

But was never near

So why does it matter

My long pretence

This shadow presence

No longer present?

Now all is present

All just shadow

And all just matter.