Followers

Wednesday, 22 December 2010

BLACKEST OF HEARTS



With voodoo
I slew you;
your life it withdrew.
I own you,
to intone and eschew
all that you do.

I trapped your mind
in a picture I drew
on a page,
which in a rage
I could rip
to hurt you.

Voodoo and Juju
Bones, mud and straw,
then Christian babies
in bits and in pain,   *
tortured in London,  *
for power and gain.  *

The blackest of arts
for the blackest of hearts
for the ignorant and poor
to suffer yet more,
as I writhe and twitch,
as your voodoo witch.

I own you!
And you are nothing.
A shell
in a box called hell,
yet the media ignore me,
for all is well.



JUJU Voodo VOODOO Zombie Child Abuse LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceau

Sunday, 17 October 2010

FALLOW FIELD



















This poem comments on promotion based merely upon 
aspiration, without regard to life's related sacrifices. 

I clawed the crumbling rocks.
Through the frosty mists I crawled
until spent and resigned to fail.
I cut my hands and tore my nails
for the ledge I had to find,
then finding I fell.
I awoke on my ledge to a feeling of loss;
cold: no more I viewed the fallow field
and lost I was, as up they came.
From my ledge they were small,
but having my scent they surged on and up
some falling, some jumping,
they thinned to a threatening few,

and panic with dread of losing my ledge
launched me to climb again;
higher and higher 'til my air thinned
where few could live
and to see the field was marred by the giddying heights,
but I saw the summit and I saw the man,
he beckoned as I wearily ran.
I nearly reached him;
but too late,
or just not soon enough?
He jumped.

Plummeted to reality,
to life and friends in the fallow field.


The start of it.
WORK Career Promotion Job LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL

LUKEWALM WATER


Like water
I flow around you,
giving at every turn,
carrying you above the rocks
and trying to cushion your life.
But water dammed for too long
can overflow its banks,
drowning a person
in an eagerness to escape its confines,
and water cooled can freeze in time
until it too becomes a rock.

The resolution of this was not good


LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU 

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

















As I sat before my desk
the sky cleared,
and the shadow of my raised pen
grew ever bolder,
as if rising through the surface
and then rhythmically sweeping a reapers arc
through any ideas of poetry.

Distracted through observation,
poetry became prose.
But then I froze
and slipped back to my lifelong desire
to make it rhyme,
to make it mine
to make my lines
sublime.

Divine.

Oh hell;
just stretch a bit of time
do a stanza crime
shove out some words
as valued as turds,
life statements
of time on a street
in a pub
eating grub
fucking a bird
acting the nerd;
following the herd
with undistilled words.

Witty can rhyme with shitty
gritty does not equal pretty,
eloquent is oft’ repellent,
but be it poetry or prose
be on your toes
'fore the wave of applause
with a tsunami clause.
From the audience that knows
You are on your own.

LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Well Done? (Revisited)



Some of you may remember an earlier post regarding a work colleague fired for reasons that will remain obscure, but I am now happy to report that after a more formal review of the case he has been re-instated, to his former role.

Our working environment has changed greatly in the last year and I only hope my colleague can come to terms with their new strictures, having given up another job acquired following the original departure.

To those who temporarily ruined the aspirations of a whole household in order (it seems) to merely prove their department had teeth, I hope they can now suck on a final thought that had it not been for their farcical handling of this case, they would not have lost the business an equally able colleague who quit to pursue a career in a less flawed organisation.

Read this sorry saga from its start here ...
WORK Career Promotion Job LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Park Rain revisited (Video & Back Story)


After a period of R&R (rage and rancour) I am getting back into this blogging lark by sucking the thumb of my own ego in order to bolster the defensive aspects of my personality (confidence and candour). I'd like to thank Elaine and the Governor for their patience and of course Wazbag, for her continued support, though I am not stupid enough to think I can wallow for much longer in this pool of ... whatever it is.

Since we last spoke, a video "short" of one of my early poems (PARK RAIN) has been released by its producer, Kirsty Clark, a popular videographer around here. I am hoping she will tackle another poem shortly, but for now here is the link to her YouTube video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ls6nGCmgyKE

Park Rain has a "back story" that comprised the earlier verses of the original poem, before I excised them in order to distil its emotional content. For the completists amongst my friends (John!) who nagged for the missing bits, they now follow.



TUMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL

PARK RAIN BACK STORY



Amongst rustling trees
we slowly walked,
as the hum of the city
eased our silence.
Lazy rolls of distant thunder
and the chill of the night
were my friends;
drawing your hand to mine,
as we made for shelter.
We spoke of the future,
but a fear of change engulfed me,
for we would be apart,
maybe forever;
and the tear in my eye,
which I tried to deny
as a spot of rain,
rolled down my cheek
as you gently squeezed my hand;
then we ran for cover
as the heavens opened,
shrieking with our urgency ........
PARK RAIN

The rain rodded down,
pock-marking the pond
as the moon shone
in a halo of colours.
Sheltered we stood
by a roof and our hearts
whilst the rain fell,
spitting to the ground
in a crackling dance
to a whispering breeze;
for the wind was light
as the feeling inside,
and I held your hand
as you held my heart.
You kept me from the cold,
for you warmed me from inside;
and I loved you then.

 

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Looking for repudiation


BP = Blown Profits, Blown Pensions, Belching Poisons and Bloody Politics (of the American kind).

Personal thought - Though the press in general and the American senate in particular are having a huge bout of Schadenfreude (a perverse pleasure in the misfortune of others), those proud Americans, as usual, are seemingly in denial.

They own half of BP, which generates many of their pension "pounds", so they are taking collateral damage whilst berating the "British" face of this company with huge, impotent "Obamawords". They forget to remember that the destroyed rig was American owned (by a third party), American run and maintained, American designed and stocked with wholly American hardware, installed (incorrectly) by American sub-contractors to a plan signed off by the American government, who need to blame anyone other than their "own" American  people.

Sure this is a global cock-up and there is no doubt that the Americans on the rig were instructed by head office to save on costs, what international company has ever not said "save on costs"?, but was it those American managers (at rig-level) who went too far in the corner-cutting. They may have died, but were they to blame?

The "slick" offered up for slaughter by the BP board is a PR joke, who has as much influence as Obama (none at all!) over the delivery of the eventual fix for this leak. Obama has to jump up and down so as not to seem politically impotent, whilst our "British" friend has to stonewall because no-one (yet) has any idea of how this beleaguered company will actually get to the beginning of the end-game of this disaster.

The only good thing on the horizon is that America will finally question and address its love affair with oil (hopefully).

UPDATE (6th Feb 2018): Obama out, lunatic/visionary/paradigm shift/narcissistic criminal in (Trump) and BP is now back into big profits:  Fourth quarter profit in 2017 was $2.1 billion, even after another charge of $1.7 billion for the 2010 Deepwater Horizon ecological disaster.

Tuesday, 8 June 2010

Is there interest in your life?



So where are we now? - June and the weather is as shit as my general mood these days. This year has thus far seemed to be a downer; work, home life, earnings and social life not quite fulfilling whatever need or restlessness that is growing within me.

Maybe I should forget the thought that in the second half of my life I can have the luxury of waiting for people to impress me, after trying thus far to get-on with others (by trying to impress them?). Perhaps I should come to terms with the fact that the vast majority of people just do not give a toss about anything, or anyone, beyond their nose end; their sheer laziness is the reason that nothing appears to be satisfying me at the moment and that my earlier, perhaps delusional life, is the one that "suits" me best.

I was the nice guy; the guy who gave ground, the guy who ran around after others, the guy who desired interaction, feigned interest in strangers, while wishing to serve, as if to affirm my place in the scheme of things; when in reality I am a servant to my own life, possibly blinkering myself to the truth of life by "being busy". Fuck me - I feel miserable right now (Thanks Morrissey).

OK,
don't cry for me (Argentina),
'cos I've never loved you,
you do not know me,
you are just a reader,
a faceless party,
to witness boredom ....

Someone (dad the wise old bugger) once said to me that life is like a bank account - you have to put something in to get some interest out and that the more you put in the more you will get back, but that the real trick is to find "banks" (people) that are best for you, whose interest is high or closest to that you desire.

I am gonna switch to "banks" who are trying to be more nice to people, rather then just staying in my bed whenever possible to avoid a wrongly perceived assumption that people offer me nothing, so I offer them nothing.

I still feel miserable, but hopefully things may soon feel better. The poetry "gig" seems to be progressing and gives some satisfaction, my wife will soon be home from overseas and I might just get to spend some of my wage this month before others do it for me.

Bye for now - I'll be back........

11th Oct 2018 - should have got off your arse and stopped feeling sorry for yourself earlier boy!


WORK Career Promotion Job Miserable Wanting LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Where have I been?



Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, I'm so glad you still attend, as I turn another bend, come inside - come inside! (Also thanks to ELP from whose album "Brain Salad Surgery" I have just gratuitously nicked some lyrics.)

So, where have I been for the last month? Beats me - but I'm glad to think I'm coming back to a world of happy shiny people (thanks REM), even if the love shack (B-52s) seems to have shut down again. Let me explain ....

Life is busy at the moment - work, poetry, the odd night out, correspondence with friends, planning for change both at home and in France, making cash stretchy in order to do what it should do (pay bills) rather then abandoning responsibility by shafting myself with a greasy pole of "cheap credit". You know how life can be at times - BUT IS THIS ALL THERE IS?

Does life ever get interesting for a white "middle-England", middle-aged, balding fat-git money machine that merely seems to exist to hand-over whatever is "earned" to others? Am I in mid-life crisis? Male menopause or chronic depression? Or just getting through life like many others who also think that there must be more to life then this; the ennui is strong today!

Where is it in me, for I am not sensing it, the feeling of satisfaction I expect by playing by the rules, by attending to my familial needs, paying all my bills on time, never asking the state for anything (other than unemployment benefit for 3 weeks during a near continuous work history now standing at 34 years) , nor causing distress by being anti-social or criminal in any way?

Where the hell is my satisfaction - I want it now! Oh - here it is now

Anyway - thanks for sticking with me so far and just to prove that I have not spent my whole life in a pit of gloom, may I offer another recent poem that I was asked to write for an upcoming programme of events that will celebrate the influence of the UK city of Kingston Upon Hull (aka "Ull") upon current and former residents, including the celebrated poet Philip Larkin.

Learn about 'Ull ...

WORK Career Promotion Job LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


HULL




Hull is not a rat-race.
Hull is a nice place.

Hull is not chav-town
Hull has thrice a crown:
a king’s town.

Kingston Upon Hull;
Larkin land,
full or Tigers, Robins and Earlie birds,
and parks and memories of Quakers as great as the Fry’s,
not the Whitefriars
nor the rare Blackfriars
nor those of the Land Of Green Ginger,
but Reckitts and Ferens,
Needlers and Sizers
bobbers and jobbers
dockers and packers
trawlermen and lightermen,

independent spirits one and all.

Hull is a king's town.
Let no-one put us down!


Read some facts about Kingston Upon Hull here … and here

Can you speak 'ull?

LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Monday, 10 May 2010

DEDICATED TO T.P.


This night is as quiet as you,
as cool as the feeling inside,
and the skies as clear as free space
in your thoughtless apathy.

A warm bed is protection,
wombed from the world
in fragile contentment,
but the child is born,
expelled to the world
and struggles to survive.

You will be born,
as surely as nature's inevitability,
alive or stillborn,
for you must develop
in your eiderwomb,
if you are not to die.


Now Read The Truth Of This ....



LAURENCEAUX NCEAU 

MR. AVERAGE?



Mr average
Mr median
Mr middleman,
Mr standard deviant
Mr mean root squared,
Mr miserable
Mr lost
Mr too old to change?
Mr unsuccessful
Mr not to fail
Mr worried like hell today
for Mr off the rails.
WORK Career Promotion Job LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


DEATH



The inevitability
of the blind-date with death
is a man's solace in life,
a final escape
to a permanent engagement
and marriage in the house of God.
GOD Heaven Death UNION Solace LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Monday, 3 May 2010

Oh my God I'm still not famous!




You may remember from an earlier blog that I was lined-up for a poetry reading session for a local radio station. Well, I attended that and having spent just over two hours there I can report that my expectation never happened. Sure I read one poem, but then so did many others. The meeting was not as I expected it to be, but none the less enjoyable enough to wish to return for the next "recording" session.

My surprise was an Iraqi immigrant rapper call Mohammad who took one of my poems to rap - I was promised a copy of the final product and if I get it you can hear it. If you wish to read the poem,  That's Life, there is a copy in an earlier blog.

Joe Hakim and Mike Watts, local poets of repute who now obviously wish to expand their public service roles did an excellent job of selling their current project; a vocal / radio celebration of the life and time of the great Hull poet, Philip Larkin, on the 25th anniversary of his death. They want local people to voice, in poetry, their experiences of Hull itself, whether as a visitor or resident (past or present).

I rarely write to order but when asked by Joe to give it a go here is the result - some of my memories of a near lifetime in Hull.

THIS IS 'ULL ...

CHILDHOOD Playing LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


THIS IS 'ULL (Upton Street)




The firm leatherette feel of well rolled tarmac
and it’s once warmed smell,
and the blackened knees and hands
of interaction
are familiar prints in my galleried mind.
A grey playmate;
a giver of second-hand chewy
and ciggie ends,
uniquely flavoured
but eagerly sought for secondary use
or swops.

Our street,
our Hull street
was our street,
not for Courtney street's gang,
not Mucky Buckies
nor Montrose's
it was our Upton Street,
a dead end street
of clean houses
of clean people
in clean beds
and mucky, happy kids.

Hull was a small place
till I was 11 but I never knew it,
our world was our street,
our wood yard at the dead end
our "farreey" across the drain
where trains and girls could be explored
in equal measure,
ducking down in the long grass
if anyone came.

I didn't know that I lived in a city called Hull,
but I knew my friends,
their parents and Johnny Greensides
who owned the only car.
and the original Mitchell brothers
on their rocker bikes,
hero’s in leather and white scarves.

I was happy in Hull.
I am again happy in Hull.
Even the immigrants are happy in Hull
’cos we are Hull,
we are Kingston Upon Hull
and proud,
proud to know most people;
southerners and media,
even Yorkshire people
don't really know us well,
'cos 'ull is our secret,
a hoard of decent friends.


For reads who may have lived in Upton Street, off Dansom Lane, I have found the following Facebook entries.

One,  Two,  Three


Personal comment - someone came across this poem and made the following comment on Facebook

From  Linda Franks (nee Wildbore) - I lived down Upton Street with the Greensides, the Hewitt's and the Hairsine's . We lived down Rosedale Avenue, where the backyard backed onto a passage and then onto the woodyard. Great times there, playing double ball on the house walls and hanging on to the boot of a car, with our skates on,  for free rides. The Mainprises, the Mitchells and the Moores lived down Primrose Terrace, the Moore's being the last house down there next to the Church in the next street (Courtney Street). Brings back memories.
CHILDHOOD Playing LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Sunday, 2 May 2010

Sex, Sex, Sex and then just a bit more sex



Maybe because of my age, or a growing awareness of the ages of my four granddaughters, I am becoming sensitised, almost to a point of anger, to the constant drip-drip of overt and overly sexualised images and attitudes that we are all exposed to by "the media". Maybe I am just becoming an old git?

The lazy, easy-money sales pitch that sex(ynes) is all we need to be successful, appreciated and happy, even normal, is seemingly becoming more prevalent, whilst the further assertion that to be "sexy" you have to be young and thin is almost as obscene as the constant exploitation and pitching of aspirational sex(ynes).

Anyway - I'm not sure where to go with this blog so I've posted a poem (from long ago) when tenderness and affection did not require an obligatory fist of fun. (Wink Wink - know what I mean!)

Speaking Hands ...
LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


SPEAKING HANDS




The tender clasp of hands in love.
A combing hand,
a caressing hand,
the tear-trickle of a finger
on a ruddy cheek,
slow movements of tenderness
with the faintest touch
expressing pure love.
No worldly experience;
entwining fingers
searching for oneness;
open hearts joined in touch.
How little cannot be expressed.
SIGNING Purity LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KING

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

Radio Blah Blah


I have recently spent time selecting poems for slots on a local radio station's equivalent of "Poetry Please".

Along with nineteen others I have been asked to read several of my poems and to then "discuss them" for a run of six weekly shows, so I am feeling rather chuffed with myself.

Having trawled through my stock I have come up with a varied bunch for the show, one of which will be PROPHECY.

Written at the start of a relationship as a predictive "warning", it proved me to be clairvoyant.

You need big balls to make prophecies



LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


PROPHECY









(The Meet .....)
The warmth of expression
you share  with me
is the fear of loneliness
forever to be.

The tenderness we show
is our dream of compassion,
escape from our lives
automaton fashioned.

Fragile, desiring,
needing to touch,
be careful my friend
lest we desire too much.

(The Middle.....)

We give too much,
too much of everything
to hide our sorrow,
to keep us together
we give to the exclusion of others
giving what little we have
to deny inadequacy,
to delay our loneliness for one more day,
but caressing the hallow relationship
we cry with fear.

(The End.....)

Frustration is the enemy,
the lack of conversation
the lack of substance
in the indolent marriage,
two strangers
cross-talking help,
unable to take or receive
so hard do they try to give;
until there is no more.

(The Epitaph.....)

Give but take
loving or annoyed,
talk but listen
and discover yourselves
!
LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Monday, 22 March 2010

Well done? II



And so the dominoes start falling....

The recent demise of a former colleague has precipitated the departure of another who has decided, not unreasonably, that doing two jobs is not much fun after several months of "helping out".

Good luck in your new job Louise, you will be missed by the guvner and me.

See How Things Turned Out ...

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Beat the clock


The 70's pop band Sparks once sang - "You gotta beat the clock, beat the clock", so here's a challenging time waster that invites you to beat this clock.


RULE:
Draw two straight lines on the clock face so that the sums of the numbers in each part are equal.

HINTS: Scroll down this post to get hints and then the answer.




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HINT#1:
2 lines across a clock face will give 3 sections, whilst 2 crossed lines will give 4 sections.

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HINT#2:
Add up all the numbers on the clock face and consider some divisions of that number.
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ANSWER:
2 parallell lines divide the face into 3 sections, 78/3 = 26 so each line must bound a count of 26.

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

No, no, no, no, no


No personal insight today, no talk of work, no worries, no money and no regrets (that come to mind).

The poem "First Love" has prompted a few interpretations in the past, none of which I was consciously wishing to express, in fact this was one of the weird ones – the poems that practically write themselves, like I was just along for the ride and to push the pen.

One woman said she thought it was about a girl; secretively pregnant for the first time, but now alone following her passage into womanhood and the creation of her first true love. This was apparently concocted from the interpretation of the word tear (as in eyes) for tear (as in tear up the book).

Another said it was the words of a woman to a man during intercourse, which I didn’t go for as no-one has ever recited a few lines during my time(s)!

I never sent this to the person who I thought it was for, for they were something of a secret; a good old fashioned crush, its depth mirroring the height of the a pedestal on which she stood, then as short as the time it took to fall back to earth when she started going out with my mate (of old).

Have a look and see if you agree with me that it is merely a big dollop of crush-love.

First Love ...
first love LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


FIRST LOVE


One woman said she thought this poem was about a girl; secretively pregnant for the first time, but now alone following her passage into womanhood and the creation of her first true love. This was apparently concocted from the interpretation of the word tear (as in eyes) for tear (as in tear up the book). Another said it was the words of a woman to a man during intercourse, which I didn’t go for as no-one has ever recited a few lines during my time(s)..........












I love you inside.
Deep inside, protected and warmed
where no-one-else has been,
and as with undercurrents
you move unseen in me,
you stir my heart
kick me inside,
prick my eye;
and only the tear tells anyone you're there.
LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Saturday, 6 March 2010

Where on earth?



Where on earth, other then the rudderless economic wilderness of our typical local government office creche (don't ask!), could the following seem both normal and logical to its participants?

When asked why they were removing papers from a confidential waste sack, to feed laboriously and noisily through our latest office toy (large paper shredder), only to stuff the then vastly increased volume back into more confidential sacks, did they say they had to.

A reminder that we pay good money to have such papers taken away and securely burned, at a cost based on the number of sacks; merely served to mildly irritate them.

I halted this waste of money, their paid time and I suspect a degree of "fun", whilst the person that sanctioned a shredder to supplement a shredding service we already pay for, was unavailable for comments!

LATEST:-
From the box of new toys also came stacking desk trays - not bad for an office ordered to adhere to a clear-desk policy. Also came halogen desk lamps; not really required in a brand new building legally supplying a high Lumen value per square foot, thought how they will be introduced to the electrical supply which manifests itself as a few sockets in each desk, has yet to be addressed. Perhaps our "financial controller" will see fit to order some (banned) electrical extender blocks next.
WORK Career Promotion Job LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


Tuesday, 2 March 2010

Pretentious - Moi?

I've had a bit of feedback from the drinking crew who last deemed fit to comment when I first mooted the ideas for this blog. True to form a hail of friendly banter has resulted from my decision to go ahead with it (until something interesting starts to happen in my life), but their latest comments about pretentious crap came a bit close to my personal retaliatory button.




In order to illustrate just how pretentious I could become, may I offer you, dear reader, a big pile of pretentious doo-doo written many years ago, when I actually believed I was good(ish) at poetry. Oh the naivety of youth!

I was into (trying to understand) John Donne at the time and the poem below was the result of a truly heart felt sentiment, expressed in the style of you know who, following a challenge to do so by a then current girlfriend who was way more clever than me. Are you still out there Gillian Wilde?

Having returned to this poem after so many years I guess that she won the challenge (and went on to be a headteacher - though I guess she may Now feel she actually lost after all).

Read Here ...

DONNE LAURENCEAUX England LAURENCEAU Lawrenceaux LAWRENCEAU Laureanceaux LAURANCEAU Lawranceaux LAWRANCEAU Loranceaux LORANCEAU Lorranceaux LORRANCEAU POETRY Prose POEMS Social Comments HUMOUR Humerous SMILE Smiling LAUGH Laughing LAFF Laffing CYNICAL Truism TRUISMS Welcome HULL Kingston-Upon-Hull Kingston Upon Hull KINGSTON-ON-HULL Kingston On Hull YORKSHIRE East Yorkshire HUMBERSIDE Yorkshire DEPRESSION ThisISUll FED-UP Pissed-Off LONELY Disgruntled DISSOLUSIONED Blue BLACK Thinking BLOG Blogger LYONEL


WHISPER, DON'T SCREECH (Respect to John Donne)


You're quiet - never seen.
I know not what you think
for you never exhibit all you seem;
and I know you though you never speak.

Once I hoped you’d speak;
to tell of all you keep so silent, muted and dumb;
and I tried for conversation,
for the words of motherhood and love,
but you were quiet - unseen.

At first I thought you totally dumb,
a mute without a tongue,
an autistic frustration to me as I tried to tell,
to speak with your foreign tongue.

As with two tongues pidgin soon developed.
It grew in strength and sprouted wings
and flew in time between us,
gradually becoming tame with time and love.

To each of us our pidgin came:
a carrier of notes,
explanations, hints of whispers
and language translations.

And now I know your language,
though I've never heard you speak.
You are not dumb - you whisper;
and I whisper now: don't screech.

Monday, 1 March 2010

Stop press .....



Preface - there is little punctuation to this article 'cos I typed it quickly - just read it quickly and do your best ...

Gobsmacked - I am truly gobsmacked! (Look it up you non-northerners.)

I have just heard on the news that some money-grubbing councils in England (a country that is currently majoring in an insidious fascism of covert taxation and over weaning interference in personal liberties) are proposing to fine motorists who "refuse" to turn off their engines in stationary traffic and that the zealous Hitler youth movement that is also known vicariously as traffic enforcement officers, parking attendants and illegal immigrants (oops - sorry - mustn't generalise - though illegal immigrants are usually the most polite of this lot and invariably have better teeth for some reason!) , will be empowered to shove a probe up your stationary exhaust and God-forgive you if they sense even a whiff of an emission gas. KERCHING - you owe them a reasonable fine, to off-set your unnecessary carbon emission, instead of your thought that what you actually owe them is a conversion of their probe into something all together more anal.

I have checked the calendar and it is actually March 1st (so no April fools due yet) so this idea must have been floated into the news to soften us up - to see if we will react in a sort of, "fuck you - were not gonna vote for you again" sort of way.

Are these people of this world?

Are they willing to prop-up expenditure not often based upon practical need, but the political aspirations of bureaucratic half-wit policy makers who, if not employed by the council, would be unemployable, such is their apparent dislocation from practical, real-world people "on the street". (Am I sounding like a rabid dog yet? - not that I have ever conversed with a rabid dog by the way).

We (you and me and the rational people) recognise that a car that is stopping and starting is wasting fuel at a prodigious rate (compared to a quiet, low tick over when stationary); that the hydrocarbon emissions per "traffic jam" or "rush hour" misery will be huge and that the noise of hundreds of cars starting and stopping , restarting and restarting and restarting (you get the drift of this I'm sure) would be a bigger ecological "disaster" then just letting us overburdened motorists slog our lemming-like way to "work". I refrained from using the words, "to our chosen career choice" as for us low-life, lower-middle-class oinks there is no career, just a vacuous hope that your job will not disappear overnight, when your foreign owner (I am not thinking of TATA of India at this time - honest!) decides it is better for them to "mothball" a major UK steel-works, because their carbon-offset reward is greater then trade to be had at this difficult point in the international steel trade cycle. (Though I would bet that just a bit more steel will now be made in India)

Phew - did I really just write that little diatribe? Look out Jack Dee - the new Mr. Misery is in town and coming your way! While I'm here, you don't often here the use of gobsmacked and then I came across this BBC article about climate change - something we can no-longer deny, nor exacerbate further if we wish crops to continue growing (for example).

SOURCES:-
http://www.southportvisiter.co.uk/southport-news/southport-southport-news/2009/11/27/stationary-motorists-in-sefton-could-be-fined-for-leaving-engines-running-if-plans-are-approved-101022-25263545/

http://www.steel-beam.co.uk/blog/second-corus-plant-to-be-mothballed

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/6847227/Questions-over-business-deals-of-UN-climate-change-guru-Dr-Rajendra-Pachauri.html