Tag Archives: music

Only Rock ‘n’ Roll, But I Like It.

Over at dVerse on Tuesday nights, its open link night [OLN] and I read something there that I found stirred something within me. Victoria, posted a Sestina, a form of poetry I had never heard of. To me, its a remarkable piece of work. the form is so technical and strict in its purest form, only by understanding that form and reading the piece over and over did I appreciate just how good, for want of a better word, this Sestina truly was. Without knowing it, Victoria had thrown down the gaunlet and I took it up with something approaching gusto. I was determined I was going to write a Sestina of my own. Lets get one thing straight, this is my first attempt at a Sestina and I dont expect or want congratulating, or a pat on the back, I want critique, I want to know why the effort is poor, which it is in comparison to Victoria’s. What can I do to improve it and why. Are the repeated words well chosen, or would something else fit better? Tell me as it is, tell me straight, I am a big boy now, I can take it  in any form you care to throw at me.

As per usual, when I am struggling for a muse or inspiration, I turn to my first love, music. I took Let There be Rock by AC/DC,

Lyrics here

I sprinkled in a little Hazel O’ Connor, Eighth Day,

Lyrics here

I also added a dab of 10cc for the hell of it,

Lyrics here

So I had to find 6 words that form the repeat, this was my choice,


I then copied the form from a website of how the Sestina should be constructed and that was so I was able to follow the word repeat structure properly. The syllable structure needed a lot of work and thought, that was possibly the hardest part. But anyway, this is the result of my efforts, in a constructional form, just how I wrote it yesterday.

A On the first day, man made laserbeam lights
B On the second day, man made divine sound
C On the third day, man made pulsating drums
D On the fourth day, man made shredding guitar
E On the fifth day, man made awesome music
F On the sixth day, he named this music rock

F Headbanging frenzy, it’s classical rock!
A Suspended animation, strobing lights,
E Horned fingers, salute powerful music
B The room becomes a cavern of wild sound,
D Axemen, thrash their delusive air guitar,
C Wild eyed chicks girate hips to pounding drums.

C The pace quickens, rhythm sticks hammer on drums,
F There’s more roll to accompany this rock!
D Fingers ambulate frets of piercing guitar,
A Shadowless figures absorb shimmering lights,
B Mouths form lyrics, devoid of word and sound,
E When did this become the devil’s music?

E Note the electric crowd, high on music,
C Mellow on rhythm, the pulse of tom tom drums,
B Doors imprison this boom box wall of sound
F No dreadlock holiday here, just hard rock,
A The band played on below their name in lights,
D Lead by a lunatic, playing guitar

D Picking his riffs, at one with his guitar,
E Jams and licks, the man lives for the music
A Stealing the limelight, shunning the street light,
C Thunderous bass backed by resonant drums
F The crowd roar their assent, they came to rock!
B A heaving mass, immersed deep in the sound.

B Suburbia won’t tolerate this sound,
D They shun the music man and his guitar,
F Stale pop pours from their radio, not rock,
E Rock n Roll ain’t no riddle, its music!
C But they don’t like the beat of jungle drums
A They are blind, for they haven’t seen the light.

AB You shall see the light, listen to the sound
CD Feel the drums, sense the magical guitar
EF This IS music, this IS what we call ROCK!

So there ya have it. Thats my first attempt at a very difficult form, in my opinion anyway. I really like the form and I hope this could be the first of many. I am not realy a form lover, I much prefer freestyle, but that was before I found a form I particularly enjoy.


With or Without You

Sometimes, because I love music so much, I build something around songs. My last piece, which Brian Miller picked up on, was written around a Metallica song, Enter Sandman. I ‘borrowed’ a line or two, but that was all.

I met my partner at a NewYears Eve party in 87/88. We lived next door to each other and I often saw her and her little lad coming and going. The party was at a mutual friends place and that’s where we kissed for the first time. It seems like only yesterday. Not long after, a cousin of mine came over from Canada to visit. It was the first time I met her and we got on very well. Before she left she invited me over to Canada to stay with her and her husband. What a oppurtunity that was. I could not say no. I hoped my partner and her son might come with me, but alas, it was not to be. But 3 weeks turned into 9 months, it was hard to leave. If I have any regrets in life, leaving Canada is one of them. But, if I had not come home, we wouldn’t have Tinkerbell, so every cloud has a silver lining.

U2 released the album The Joshua Tree in March 1987. I had seen them twice and fell in love with the album immediately. It’s still in my favourite top 5 albums, always will be. But the song With or Without You became ‘our ‘ song. When it was good, it was orgasmic, when it was bad, it was a car crash. Thats how it was. So the song took on a literal meaning for us both. Living with each other since ’91 has been impossible, living without each other would also be impossible. I know that because we did have a trial separation at one point, but it was not what either of us wanted.

So this is a kind of narrative of our relationship, from beginning to now. Due to unforseen circumstances and a complete change in our lives, I have no idea how it will go from here, we shall just have to see and hope things get better at some point. Thankfully, Tinkerbell [our granddaughter] is a constant source of inspiration. My partner was told, many many years ago that she would become close to a little girl and she certainly has.

‘Twas New Year of 87/88
the party season was drawing towards its end
just one last night on the lash
before it started all over again
same shit, different year
nothing changes
but even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

Why did I have to be there that night?
Why did you have to be there?
it was just a party
and at parties, things happen
some we regret, some we don’t
and then there are the maybes
I regret meeting you, but then don’t
but even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

The flight was a long haul
but it had to be made
the adventure was too good to pass
another country, another world
it might as well have been
but you weren’t there
holding my hand, reassuring me
but even then I knew
I could not live
With or without you

The return was emotion filled
a lifestyle I loved
for a woman and boy I loved
a country I loved
for a region I loved
hard choices have to be made
compromises shared
but even then I knew
I could not live
With or without you

Times were hard
the neighbours were bad
but we endured
something had to give
the straw always arrives
that breaks the back of us all
it was time to move on
another chapter, a new chapter
but even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

The move went well
as well as these things can go
a new home, new neighbours
new surroundings
decor to choose
work to be done
concessions to be made
tolerances tested
but even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

Prospects, lives, careers improved
money became a friend
who often took us out to dinner
or shared a bottle of wine
or two
a new car for new adventures
hills and valleys to explore
peace to be enjoyed
but even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

The little girl
the one you were told about
all those years ago
became the greatest Christmas present
we both ever had or could ever get
that first day, that first hold
we both knew we were lost
hopelessly in love
but even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

Then life conspired against us
a more dramatic change it could not bring
suddenly, my vitality was stolen
never to return?
the walks ended
the hand holding stopped
the kisses and hugs died
lovemaking became history
and even then I knew
I could not live
with or without you

And so, our journey continues
down this rocky road
we have Tinkerbell
the gift of a lifetime
it aint all bad is it?
there’s hope, always hope
but also realism
somehow we have to learn
how to live again
with or without each other.


A Moment in Time

I used to travel a lot in my old job and one run I did on a very regular basis was from Newcastle to Manchester for machines to be serviced at a specialist depot in the suburb of Stockport. Leaving home at 4am, the drive is about 3-3 1/2 hours. Because the journey is through about 4 different counties the radio signal changes frequently, so I never listened to it, I always had all my favourite music cassettes with me that I just played and played and played.

I did the trip as normal that September day. A day unlike any other day, but for more reasons that one. The journey over the Pennines was incident free. I arrived usual time, fueled up ready for the return journey, had the usual cuppa with Pete and Bill before starting, then listening to more music whist waiting for the service of the machine to be completed. Breakfast at 9am as usual, job finished and ready to hit the road again by 11am.

2 ways home. The dreaded M62/M1/A1 route, or the more pleasant M4/Hartside route. Plenty of time, lets go scenic. More music [some lines you might see included] home by 4pm. I walked in and my son was in his usual prone on the sofa position [students huh] and the images on the tv screen look like a Die Hard film. Not seen that one, what is it ? was my question.

4am, on a darkened motorway,
bound for?
Manchester, UK, well,
Stockport is the true destination,
via that bastard
someone christened the M62
the road to hell itself
little was I to know
hell on earth was happening
that very day

2 4 6 8 never too late
just on and on and on
Motorway madness in all its glory
undipped headlights of the weary
break lights of the speedsters
slowness of the lost
all caught on a crumbling network
of so called roads.

Music, always music,
coffee and pre rolled smokes
cassette after cassette after cassette
Loud, always loud
cocooned in my cab
the womb of the driven
radio on by my side?

Depot reached, brews made,
eyes sore from too bright lights
and the break of dawn
bacon butties
on dirty plates
jokes, just as dirty
the playground of men
and mechanics.

11am, time to hit the road
scenic route, or
back over that menace of a road
jammed with horseless wagons
rolling, rolling, rolling
or green hills
winding roads,
quaint villages
no contest.

What you watching sunshine?
The Trade Center
Good film?
Its Real.
Give over, who’s in it?
Its Real.
Stop playing silly games
I’m not, this is REAL.

Watching, awaiting the punchline
that never came
the realisation
what my eyes saw, yet
mind would not believe
all too real.
I wept.

Posted for Open Link Night over at dVerse where  Brian Miller is your host.

Blue Guitar

Over at dVerse today, Gay Reiser Cannon has introduced a form of poetry that is new to me. I like a challenge and am never one to turn away most of the time. The form is Framed Couplets. I have tried to stay within the boundaries as I understood them. Its a very difficult form to get to grips with, but I hope I have done it some justice with my effort.


old guitar stands alone all forlorn
cold strings once played hang twisted and torn
fret stained where nicotined fingers pressed
sweat streaked body of wood bruised and distressed
fame and fortune this instrument bought
acclaim,stardom, the spotlight, it sought

beguiled with blues, some say the devil
wild chords, riffs, its music we revel
wailing athems electrify sound
unveiling cadence, beats so profound
audacious notes consuming my soul
salacious rhythms, hypnotic control

it may appear a tale so bizarre
i say beware of that old guitar

So if you haven’t already, get on over to dVerse and have a go or read some of the offerings of other poets who have been brave enough to attempt it.

If Music Be The Food Of Love?

Over at liv2write2day’s blog , http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/ there is always a good Monday morning prompt to respond to, this week is no different.

The challenge for today is Sacred Music. Now I am not a religious man in the slightest, but music is a very large part of my life and always has been and always will be. I find that music can heal me when things go wrong in my life. I quit smoking 3 years ago and now, instead of needing a nicotine fix, I reach for a music fix instead. So the phrase/term, Sacred Music means something slightly different to me than to someone else, in the sense that I dont find any music sacred, but I do feel inspired by music sometimes, I laugh at some music, I cry at others, but no matter the genre, I always enjoy music, all the way from Abba to ZZ top and everything inbetween. I find I often write better when I have some music playing on my laptop or the stereo or cd player. I seem to focus easier, so long as its not too loud or top heavy with rhythm, that just destracts me as I cannot help myself from starting to tap out the beat, which turns into a frenzy of finger tapping, tongue and finger clicking abd tooth tapping [which drives my partner demented 😉 ] . I was in a band in my youth [bass player] but sold all my equipment to pay for a trip to Canada many years ago. Since then, I still love music, but dont play anymore.

I think music in itself is healing. It’s an explosive expression of humanity. It’s something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we’re from, everyone loves music.
Billy Joel

I was born with music inside me. Music was one of my parts. Like my ribs, my kidneys, my liver, my heart. Like my blood. It was a force already within me when I arrived on the scene. It was a necessity for me-like food or water.
Ray Charles

If music be the food of love, play on.
William Shakespeare
It was my 16th birthday – my mom and dad gave me my Goya classical guitar that day. I sat down, wrote this song, and I just knew that that was the only thing I could ever really do – write songs and sing them to people.
Stevie Nicks

Music can change the world because it can change people.

Music doesn’t lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music.
Jimi Hendrix

Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.
Ludwig van Beethoven

Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.

Some great music quotes there by some very iconic people. All of which I can relate to very easily.

Music, a most hallowed gift, found not,
Under the radiant Christmas Tree, but in the
Songs of the heart, with passion and verse,
In the recess of my mind,
Chords, lyrics alongside rhythms so diverse.

With a tune, you may find what you seek,
Audible words of intent regale,
Surrounded in hidden mystique.

Music, dance, playful expression,
Youthful intonation.

Frame me a melody, harmonious
Idiom of Rock,
Roll with intrinsic motion,
Sing for me now,
Thrive in musical devotion.

Lustful anthems gyrating the dancefloor,
Oscillating to the cadence, and
Vibrations shaking the foundations, of self
Everybody, c’mon, enjoy the band.

So folks, thats my take on sacred music, or rather  music on the whole, what it can mean and do for us all, if we let it.

Don’t forget, pop in to http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/ and read some peoples poems/stories on the subject and maybe submit one of your own.

Going for a Song

It’s a dog eat dog world out there,
Especially for the night prowlers,
Who are often just riff raff anyway.

I was driving down the highway to hell,
And I fell into rock n roll damnation,
But hey, hell aint a bad place to be.

I was often shot down in flames,
Thats what high voltage can do to a live wire,
It was just a touch too much.

So I asked, Can I sit next to you girl?
I only want to sink your pink, she slapped my face,
Maybe I should just ride on, like a good rocker does.

Did you hear hells bells ringing last night?
They shook me all night long,
I’m sure it wasn’t an overdose that did it.

I went to see that  woman, Rosie,
I said, what do you do for money honey?
She just gave me the jack,

So here, have a drink on me,
Give that dog a bone, and
Lets just go down and do the bad boy boogie.

One last time!

Submitted to One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry.

For those not in the know, the jack is a slang term for the clap [Venereal Disease] or I suppose a STD  to be politically correct.

I hope someone understands what this is all about, or where its roots are 😉

Social Chameleon

Internet life started for me a few years ago. My son got his first real PC and immediately got it hooked up to the internet. On days off from work when my partner had to work her stupid rota [includes every other weekend] I would get a shout to go and look/watch something my son had found on the net. I have to admit, I was intimidated by computers and the internet back then, thinking one mistake would send the whole thing into meltdown.

I already had one e-mail address, set up via digital television so I could place bets without having to go to see the bookie. I could also buy lottery tickets that way as well, which was great as our little local shop lost its facility to sell lottery tickets.

My son, being ever the enthusiast, told me to use the net when he wasn’t around. He showed me a few basics, explained security protocols and left me to browse. He set up a user account for me, which I had no idea about and I was away. I joined Friends Reunited straight away and was instantly in touch with a couple of old friends that drifted out of my life. That was the beginnings of my love affair with the internet.

I was sending e mails back and forth with old friends and was having a ball. Someone I loved long ago came on the scene and we talked on messenger whenever possible. I found myself aching to get online to talk to her again. I would spend the free weekends chatting to her whenever possible and I found myself falling in love with her again, after the best part of 20 yrs of having no contact with her at all.

I found the delights of chat rooms and spent a lot of time there, until they did away with them due to all the problems with paedophiles [don’t get me started on that subject]. I found a trivia chat room very addictive. There was a small hardcore of us who spent as much time there as possible. Constantly trying to outdo each other with our general knowledge. It was fun and it was the first time I felt I belonged to something worthwhile.

When they decided to stop chat rooms in the present format, I was homeless, or so it felt. But I came across an adult site called The G Spot. It was a great place and I made myself at home there and was part of a great community. Then that got stopped in the UK as it was an American site and MSN prevented access from outside of the states. That really upset me. Again, I was homeless.

I still enjoyed the net and spent a lot of time using it. My son and I both had betting accounts and then we found online poker and both soon had poker accounts on Coral. We played whenever possible, never winning much, if anything. I had no idea there was strategy involved in a card game and just learnt by playing. I had no idea what a cbet was or a 3bet, when you should shove all in and when not.Bad Beats? Suckouts? uh uh, no siree, not a clue.

I was still using messenger and e-mail and also discovered internet radio. As a lover of music, I really enjoyed the huge options for listening to music. Classic rock, that’s my main genre. So I found Radiostorm 101 [formerly Star 101] and listened everytime I was online. There were some songs never heard before that I got into and of course, plenty of tracks I did know. There was also a chatroom [tagboard] attached to the place and again, I got involved, knew all the regulars and spent a lot of time there when I could. My son upgraded by then to ADSL broadband and everything was lightning fast as we are just around the corner from our local exchange. I met someone there one day who was having a hard time with her life. We got to talking and before long, we were regular on messenger with each other. I was getting in deep with someone and I was helpless to stop it.

My present relationship was going through its own hard time and for 3 months, we separated. A lot of it was caused by my confusion and inability to separate real life from my virtual one. I was secretive and spent every moment I could online, with old flames and new ones. The chat scene was great, a real laugh most of the time and a joy to be around. Then Radiostorm went down and that community fell apart. I still had a couple of folks there I talk to, including my love affair and of course, my old flame in the background. But once again, I felt homeless.

Then I came across 1ClubFM. Another radio station with a real community there. I made some new friends quickly and became very active in the place. Again, there was this hardcore of users that all got along so well. We had private groups set up, private chat from cbox and chatngo and all helped each other whenever the occasion arose. I know people from all over the world and all walks of life. All from chat rooms or radio stations.

Its kind of ironic at this point to point out that my last two downfalls have both been German. Coincidence? Has to be.

A new arrival at 1Club was sixpack. Along with myself and Merc, we became the 3 musketeers of the place. We chased the idiots out of the chat room, helped new users find their way around, ran our respective groups and had a ball. We could send all kinds of messages with flashing images. Every weekend was the same.Sending all our friends [sic] messages to have a great weekend etc etc. Then things started to go wrong. This sixpack was using multiple accounts and using them to chat women up. A real lothario he was. He started to cause trouble, playing people off against each other. No one knew at the start, what was going on, but the divisions appeared, arguments broke out, ill feeling created and trust broken. We were tight, very tight. But this bastard split us right down the middle. It all turned nasty and I, along with others withdrew away from the place. It’s still there, revamped and looking modern, but it’s not what it was and most of our group have blown to the four corners. I was in touch with some of them via Facebook, but I had some little nasties from that network, so closed it down. I did set up a new account there, sometime later, but again, I dropped it because of all the crap going around. Again, I was homeless.

I got myself a little PDA, a sort of handheld mini PC. I could get online just about anywhere with it and spent ages on it talking via messengers. I reached the stage that I was hardly doing any work. I did what had to be done, no more or less. I was still chatting to my online lover from the states and my old flame and a few others. Still spending a lot of time online on my sons pc. He was spending less and less time at home, as young men do, so that left me to play whenever I felt like it really. I tried to get my partner involved. I set her up her own e-mail account, showed her what could be done and I was always around if anything should go wrong, or she needed help. But she just never took to it and still hasn’t. At that time, the pc was shoved away in a walk in cupboard in my sons room. It meant that if I was in there, online, my partner was alone watching tv or reading the paper.

Just over 3 years ago, I went down with chickenpox. Never had em as a kid it turns out. It was bad. It put me in hospital for 12 days, pumped full of drugs to keep me alive. Things went wrong. The virus somehow got into my spinal column, headed north to my brain and has left me with some serious balance issues, sight problems and a few other side effects. I have been off work now for 3 yrs and not driven a car since. Now I have all day every day to waste.

So I treated myself to a new laptop. I could sit with my partner and be online. I found myself playing more and more online poker. I was joining forums and reading about the game, the strategy, the math behind it all. It was interesting and kept me amused for the long hours of days and nights. I found a poker community called Pokerspacer. It had its own tournaments on different networks, you could earn points and exchange them for cash and again, there was this hardcore group who played every game, or near as. The blogs were always fun, some personal, some poker related, some just bitching. Again, I spent a lot of my time there and met some very pleasant people. I was also suffering from depression, mourning the loss of my former life [all in the healing process] and people at Pokerspace helped me through some tough times. I will always be very grateful to those people, they helped me get back some sanity.

Sadly, things there got bad. the main man in admin is German. I got on fine with him most of the time. he is young, full of cum and can be very dumb. He is learning, but he has this attitude, that most Germans seem to have, that he is always right and knows better than everyone else. I shall leave it at that. Anyway, a new member was fitting in well and organised a new tournament. To access the game, you had to pass a poker quiz. It was fairly tough. There were blog posts flying back and forth, messages etc etc, as a few of us were bustin our balls to solve the puzzles. In one exchange with this person, I, mockingly told him I was taking a contract out on him, and if that failed, I would go and sort him out myself. It was banter, that’s all.

So this person, for reasons unbeknown at the time, told me to goggle his name. I thought nothing of it and carried on doing my thing. But it bugged me, why would someone tell you to goggle their name, are they really that vain? The long and the short of it was, his brother was a pro boxer and that’s what he expected me to find. That was his protection against my jocular threat to have him beaten up. That I know now, but didn’t then.

What I turned up horrified me. this person, I use the phrase loosely, was a convicted paedophile. Not accused, convicted. I read a few items and articles and thought, hang on, I have pictures of Tinks on Pokerspace, I don’t want that bastard looking at them or using them in any way. I should point out here, that we were all able to adjust security and privacy settings to prevent this. But why should we all do that because of one pervert?

I sent a message to admin of Pokerspace, telling them of what I had found and asking for his removal. If he had been accused and found not guilty, or had not gone to trial yet, I would not have asked that, but he was convicted, given a jail sentence on appeal and banned from coaching children. [ he was a swimming coach and school teacher].

I had no response to that message. So, I set about warning all the members on my buddy list that this evil bastard was about the place and to watch out for him. I didn’t want to start a riot of a witch hunt or the like. I just didn’t think this person should be a member of our community and a lot of members agreed with that.

Anyhow, I got into a real fight about the subject, ended up suspended from the poker forum and due to those events, lost any respect that I once had for the admin of the site. I thought it cowardly not to ban this person and some of the reasons and excuses for not doing so were, in my opinion, bullshit.

Anyway, I am finding it increasingly hard to continue in that community. I like the place, most of its members and the games, but just have no respect for the arrogant, condescending twat who runs the show.

I am struggling to keep in touch with people I owe a lot to and again, I am finding myself homeless.

My head doc [psychologist] said that starting a blog or diary might help with my battle with depression. I started blogging in may 2010, but found it hard going, so stopped. Early this year [2011] I decided to tray again. My head was in a better place than back in may 2010 and I found I was enjoying the experience. I am learning something new all the time. I have unearthed a creative streak I didn’t know I had. I am writing whenever possible, about this and that. I turn out poetry, some good, some bad, almost daily and have had some encouraging feedback. I still have lots to learn, but its enjoyable, it’s a release and its helped get my head straight. Theres a hardcore again, of poets and writers who always pop up at the same prompts, the same events and sites and they all appear to be good people. I am enjoying myself again.

I am sad that I seem to be losing contact again, with people I know and care about. That is a constant in my online search for a home, something to which I belong and accepts me for who and what I am. I try to be pleasant, try to be honest, polite and kind, but I have a dark side I know only too well.

So maybe I have found a new home with blogging, maybe not. I still play poker, most nights, even met that fucker of a paedophile a couple of times at the tables. I write, listen to music, read and do what I can to help my partner and son out and love looking after Tinks whenever needed. She usually stays over on Monday nights and all day Tuesday. That will stop in about 18 months, or less, when she starts school full-time. I am not looking forward to that, but its inevitable and I just have to accept it.

So that’s my online life, from start to present. I am online almost every day, sometimes all day and night. Its my connection to the outside world. I don’t venture far alone. My partner works as do my son and his partner.I drift along, doing my thing and try to enjoy the good days and survive the bad days. I am off for a week to my spiritual home in 10 days or so and that will be a much-needed and enjoyable break for us both. We love the hills of Northumberland and have a little cottage right on the edge of the national park. Can’t wait to get there now.

Adios, arriva derci, toodle pip, ta-ta, auf weidersein, good-bye.

Busk Me A Train

The idea behind this attempt at my first Haiku came from Victoria [live2write2day]. Her Wordsmith Wednesday explained a little more about the Haiku and its construct. So here I have a go myself, with 3 linked Haiku’s. The theme is built around a journey to work.


      Street corner standing,

      Saxophone breathing the blues,

      Rain falling at feet.

ii    Station

      Down at the station,

      Train delayed, maybe misplaced,

      Windy platform waits,

iii   Train

       Dark tunnel looming,

       Dragon exits its cold lair,

       Arrival pending.

A busker is a street performer, who usually entertains in the hope of receiving money from the passing public.

As a child, I always thought of trains as Dragons and the underground [subway] to be its lair.

Anyway, hope you like what I have attempted here.

My Way


The prompt of the day is  Inspiration in a song. Easy right?

My tongue in cheek choice [ only, not so much tongue].
There’s only one way to do something,
do it the right way or do it the wrong,
today I was set a tough one,
be inspired by a tune or a song.

Now a lover of music I profess to be,
so it’s not such a difficult ask,
that’s what I originally thought to myself,
but its tougher than it looks is this task!

A thousand and one songs, spin round,
and round and round in my head,
once one takes a foothold,
I still sing it as I go off to bed.

Its pointless now trying to get any sleep,
with lyrics just bursting their way out,
I’ll just have to grin and bear it,
and try not to scream and shout.

So one good song is all that I need,
one that everyone knows,
I’ve thought about it long and hard,
and this is the one that I chose.

Franky boy sung about his way,
but that one’s not really for me,
Sid sung it a million times better,
watch it and then you will see.

Theres no pretense, only passion,
no condescension, only violent intent,
just emotion that s pent-up and raw,
that became his last, lingering  lament.

My submission to Poetry Potluck # Jingle Poetry

Playlist 101

This is inspired by the million or so playlists I seem to have on the net. Add to that, Room 101, from Nineteen Eighty Four by George Orwell. There was also a TV show in the UK where celebs [so-called] tried to get their pet hates confined to Room 101.


I am behind with everything this week so far and I hate to be behind, if I could add being behind to Room 101, then I would 😉 I was really having a struggle today to find something to write about. But as usual, I had a playlist playing away in the background and I thought, why not?

The question is,
Always the same,
Another great song,
From another great name,
To include or not,
Dilema once again,
Same genre, or maybe,
A slightly different vein?
Rock, Pop, classics all,
Country, Indie, Ska and Dance,
No sign of hip hop,
Rap or Trance.
They don’t belong here,
Garage, grunge, oh no sir,
Folk, Rock and Roll,
I know which I prefer,
Jazz, Acid house, even Punk,
Blues, Ballad, plus some Big Band,
Guitar heroes,
The main man, Slowhand,
Some, not all,
Will make this list,
New sounds, old sounds,
Funk, Soul and Twist,
And so by now,
This list is done,
If I don’t like the genre,
It’s off to Room 101.

Submission to One Stop Poetry for One Shot Wednesday