ODE TO SUZANNE (Bransholme '76)

You may recall an earlier poem, A DAY AT SCHOOL (Bransholme '76), discovered in the trunk I've been dumping stuff since finishing my state education at Bransholme High (and this) (and this) transitioned me into adulthood.

I wrote a lot of stuff then, for my own pleasure and the challenge of writing odes and poems "to order"; one of which I present now. If you happen to be the original recipient of "your order" and wish me to remove it, please drop me a line.

ODE TO SUZANNE (Bransholme '76)

Suzanne is a bit of a chore

or so some people say,

but let them say that to me I say

and they wont see the light of day.

She may be silly

ruthless and mad,

but after all, 

that's not that bad?

She's honest and open,

that's all you need,

who says she's crazy?

Madness indeed.

Our Su's not mad

and not at all bad,

quite delectable

in her own kind of way.

"We love you Su" .......

If Suzanne left we'd have nothing to do,

no-one to strangle - "your shoe's in the loo!"

We'd be so bored, have a life so dull,

but give us Suzanne and the place packs full.

With this tale told I want your thanks.

So a round of applause for fantastic Su,

Our loving eccentric,

who's NEVER a chore.

The maw I think of this girl now, I realise she was the big light in the room. She made everyone happy. Happy days!

Want another Bransholme ode?

Word of the day - CIRCUMSPECTION

The word today is Circumspection 

Circumspection is a noun and means the following:

- To exhibit a desire to avoid speculation, lies and "spun" information

- To speak only of facts & true circumstances to correctly summarise

- To be vigilant to falsehoods by watchfulness and investigative rigour

- To form a safe course of action or to avoid undesirable results.

1. 
   

To exhibit circumspection you must be circumspect in your actions

To be circumspect in behaviour or character people think you cautious

Acting with circumspection, people may think shrewdness and probity

An alterative phrase for circumspection is cautious vigilance

If you need more start here or here.

There is an index of words of the day.

If you are brave or foolish enough to dig into the different types of words in English, try this.

Truism (to preserve credibility)

If you can neither control or influence a situation, keep your gob shut.

Personal thought - Another piece of advice passed to me by dad, warning me not to meddle in things just for the sake of joining-in.; something that is now THE cornerstone of online discourse via (un)social media.

ODE TO ELAINE (Bransholme '76)

You may recall an earlier poem, A DAY AT SCHOOL (Bransholme '76), discovered in the trunk I've been dumping stuff since finishing my state education at Bransholme High (and this) (and this), transitioning me into adulthood.

I wrote a lot of stuff then, for my own pleasure and the challenge of writing odes and poems "to order"; one of which I present now. If you happen to be the original recipient of "your order" and wish me to remove it, please drop me a line.

ODE TO ELAINE (Bransholme '76)

I know Elaine and she has one craving, 

no, it's not for boys or crazy paving. 

This is a craving that has no limits,

for all are open to its lofty limits. 

None are safe, no-one's spared.

It's just Elaine's fetish, have you heard? 

  

With deadly accuracy and over in a tick,

it's just her craving, is she thick?

No I say, she is not thick, 

slightly silly but fast and slick. 

So, all you boys out there beware. 

Elaine has a fetish and it'll curl your hair. 

    

Never mind your shirt, your body or your soul, 

none of these are her ultimate goal. 

Elaine's fetish is most discreet. 

Wrong sir, not your feet. 

Try once more to guess this thing. 

What? No, it's not for string.  

 

Pardon sir, what was that you said? 

"Stripping church roofs"? 

No, it's not for lead.

No-one know this fetish 'cept I, 

Her fetish is in me like a plum in a pie. 

But save embarrassment I cannot lie.  

 

Elaine has no fetish and I am no pie. 

Elaine is grand, popular and witty, 

but mark my words and this no lie, 

don't get close or she'll have your tie.

I hartley dare mention it, but Elaine was the recipient of quite a few "on demand" odes. In this blog you will find one here and here. Happy days!

Want another Bransholme ode?

ODE TO COLLEEN (Bransholme '76)

You may recall an earlier poem, A DAY AT SCHOOL (Bransholme '76), discovered in the trunk I've been dumping stuff since finishing my state education at Bransholme High (and this) (and this) transitioned me into adulthood

I wrote a lot of stuff then, for my own pleasure and the challenge of writing odes and poems "to order"; one of which I present now. If you happen to be the original recipient of "your order" and wish me to remove it, please drop me a line.

ODE TO COLLEEN (Bransholme '76)

I am the poet, I know Colleen,

but she does things that just have to be seen.

Riding down Tweendykes on her mean machine,

pedalling like fury, a flying queen.

With legs like pistons and coat flapping wide,

she's away like the wind, as strong as the tide.

Colleen's passion of day or night

is to ride up Tweendykes on the right,

but her ultimate goal, conceived without fuss,

is to run herself up a 34 bus!

Colleen is a goer I must declare,

but not in public, I wouldn't dare.

Colleen is a woman,

who's polite and serene.

One to be titled, Bransholme Queen.

Yes, this is a friend who is so rare,

who will not be abused.

Of one to take care.

In a ledger of odes, this one was well received at the time. Happy days!

Want another Bransholme ode?

Here is that 34 bus

A DAY AT SCHOOL (Bransholme '76)

If you've been around this blog a bit, you'll know it's a Gallimaufry, with no obvious agenda. Over the years it has reflected what was in my head that day, or the emotion of a moment, with the odd bit of humour and music.

Today I feel tired and nostalgic (so that's it! - I MUST be old - OMG!).

Anyway, let's not dwell on that, for I was rummaging through my mental trunk and then looked up old books I've kept since school days, particularly those in which I wrote "poetry", prose, odes or absolute crap. 

Bransholme High (and this) (and this) (and this) transitioned me into adulthood, wiser in thought and raring to go, but it also gave me happy times, some of the best being in my last year there ('76), when I started to write "stuff", occasionally as demanded by others. Let me explain.

I loved the girls and they liked me, principally because I never tried to "hit on them" (much) because my sisters had removed fear and taught me that chat was the way to a woman's attention. I liked this and a fringe benefit was guys would follow my lead, to pick-up tips or girls. 

I wrote quite a few odes to flatter or record school life then, so today I'd like to introduce you to a world of mediocrity; to an ode about a day at school. It's a bit clunky and best read quite quickly, in a "flipperty-flop" way. Good luck.

A DAY AT SCHOOL (Bransholme '76)

Caught the bus to school today.

Nodded to Carolyn and went on my way.

Climbed the stairs and found a seat.

God it's good to rest your feet.

Arrived at school five to nine. 

Greeted friends with the usual line.

Dumped me books, checked me looks and found a seat.

God it's good to rest your feet.

Said hi to Liz, Colleen and Dawn.

But coming exams made me moan.

I had the jitters but in came Pete.

A good name that: it rhymes with feet!

Assembly finished and I'm working fast.

I'm no good at math but I won't come last.

An ego-tripper, that's what I am.

But I haven't a rhyme, so I'm gonna use Spam.

The test was murderous, I cannot regale.

Didn't have any breakfast, thought I'd failed.

Talking of breakfast I fancied some ham.

Well, I didn't really, but it brings back Spam!

Now at this juncture I must explain,

Why I always drift back to say things again.

At poetry you see I'm a bit of a ham,

sorry folks, I'm back to Spam.

Words you see come hard to me,

I force them out, they don't come free,

thus the reason for Pete and feet;

they fill out a piece and they rhyme real neat!

But enough of excuses and onwards I say,

I'm gonna write more as there's more to say.

I walked into the sixth-form, five to eleven.

Following maths, an annex of heaven.

Saw Erica, Elaine, Julie and Pete.

Bezzy mates and glad to greet.

The break passed all too quick.

I thought of the test, convinced I was thick.

I saw Russ Atkinson: time for tech-drawing.

Didn't wanna go and it was all very boring.

Back in the sixth-form around twelve-fifty.

All tests over and I felt quite nifty.

Time to relax and fall into a chair.

It was good to be alive, just loafing there.

Sitting alone, I watched Suzzane Maw.

Ten seconds flat, apple to core.

Five seconds later in stepped Dawn.

On went the radio; why was I born?

Soundwaves permeated the room,

and beat on my brain like the back of a broom.

God it was noisy, I had to get out,

and Fisher was wailing as if he had gout.

I made up my mind, I'd have to go.

Then I thought, "dammit, why should I blow?"

So instead of going I turned it down.

Now, Fisher didn't like that and gave me a frown.

A quarter past one and the place is packed.

In comes Jebson and Pete gets hacked.

Asking Pete what he had to say,

his only reply was, "he wants me to stay".

Half past one and I'm talking to Wendy.

Now there was one who could really send me.

A quarter to two and I hear something grave.

Grovelling gravestone: "Pywell's begun to shave!".

Dinnertime passes, all too quick.

I still think of maths convinced that I'm thick.

What comes next is bad-boy Bratton.

A teacher who thinks he's general Patton.

In class we wait 'till four o'clock comes.

Looking intelligent, but twiddling our thumbs.

At last it comes and it's time to go.

Split the scene man, time to blow.

With Erica and Pete, there's pace without fuss.

We have to rush to catch our bus.

But Carol arrives, coat, bags and basket.

And shuffles around like she's blown a gasket.

The day draws in and the end is near.

I grab my books and pile on my gear.

Say goodbye to Elaine, Colleen and Dawn.

And life feels good.

I'm glad to be born.

There, I told you it was clunky, as were many more of its period / ilk, but some of which I might add in the future as they come to light, starting here.

Meaningful songs #12 - HELEN REDDY

This is the eleventh in an occasional series of songs from my collection, with the intent of introducing music to younger readers that they may gain appreciation of music from the classic years, 1957-1990. 

I have lived long enough to hear the "popular" music industry become ever-more formulaic, lazy, uninspiring and cynical; delivering "units" and "artistes" as interesting and memorable as polished mud.

Meaningful songs that eloquently convey a story, sentiment, or social comment and make it to national consciousness are rare these days. If you agree this song is meaningful, please introduce it to someone young; they might enjoy becoming "musical archaeologists".

Todays song, titled "Angie Baby", released in 1974, is by a singer called HELEN REDDY.

Hear the song here

Helen's debut song in the UK, this spooky story is about Angie ("touched and crazy"), using period language about someone having mental difficulties. I have covered another Angie song in this series.

ANGIE BABY

You live your life in the songs you hear

On the rock and roll radio

And when a young girl doesn't have any friends

That's a really nice place to go

Folks hoping you'd turn out cool

But they had to take you out of school

You're a little touched you know, Angie baby

Lovers appear in your room each night

And they whirl you across the floor

But they always seem to fade away

When your daddy taps on your door

Angie girl, are you alright

Tell the radio good night

All alone once more

Angie baby

Angie baby, you're a special lady

Living in a world of make-believe

Well, maybe

Stopping at her house is a neighbour boy

With evil on his mind

'cause he's been peeking in Angie's room

At night through the window blind

I see your folks have gone away

Would you dance with me tonight?

I'll show you how to have a good time Angie baby

When he walks in her room, he feels confused

Like he's walked into a play

And the music's so loud it spins him around

'til his soul has lost its way

And as she turns the volume down

He's getting smaller with the sound

It seems to pull him off the ground

Toward the radio he's bound

Never to be found

The headlines read that a boy disappeared

And everyone thinks he died

"cept a crazy girl with a secret lover

Who keeps her satisfied

It's so nice to be insane

No one asks you to explain

Radio by your side, Angie baby

Angie baby, you're a special lady

Living in a world of make-believe

Well, maybe

Return to the first article in this series or hear the first song in this series.

Read the next article in the series or hear the next song in the series.

For the index of all songs in this blog click here.

Meaningful songs #11 - THE ROLLING STONES

This is the eleventh in an occasional series of songs from my collection, with the intent of introducing music to younger readers that they may gain appreciation of music from the classic years, 1957-1990. 

I have lived long enough to hear the "popular" music industry become ever-more formulaic, lazy, uninspiring and cynical; delivering "units" and "artistes" as interesting and memorable as polished mud.

Meaningful songs that eloquently convey a story, sentiment, or social comment and make it to national consciousness are rare these days. If you agree this song is meaningful, please introduce it to someone young; they might enjoy becoming "musical archaeologists".

Todays song, titled "Angie", released in 1973, is by a group called THE ROLLING STONES.

Angie in on the Goats Head Soup LP

Hear the song here

Ostensibly a bitter-sweet ballad about separation because of poverty, its composer Keith Richards (Stones' guitarist) said, in his autobiography, that the name Angie was a pseudonym for heroin and this song is about his attempts to quit using, while detoxing in Switzerland. I feel this is probably true as a poem/lyric, but the song tempo and Mick Jagger's delivery leads us to believe it's a love song.

ANGIE

Angie, Angie

When will those clouds all disappear?

 

Angie, Angie,

Where will it lead us from here?

  

With no loving in our souls

And no money in our coats

You can't say we're satisfied

But Angie, Angie

You can't say we never tried

Angie, you're beautiful, yeah

But ain't it time to said goodbye?

Angie,

I still love you

Remember all those nights we cried?

All the dreams we held so close

Seemed to all go up in smoke

Let me whisper in your ear

Angie, Angie

Where will it lead us from here?

Oh Angie don't you weep

All your kisses still taste sweet

I hate that sadness in your eyes

Angie, Angie

Ain't it time we said goodbye?

With no loving in our souls

And no money in our coats

You can't say we're satisfied

But, Angie, I still love you baby

Everywhere I look I see your eyes

There ain't a woman that comes close to you

Come on baby, dry your eyes

Angie, Angie

Ain't it good to be alive?

Angie, Angie

They can't say we never tried

   

There is a musical link to Golden Brown by The Stranglers, in that both songs appear to be love songs but relate to the use of Heroin.

Return to the first article in this series or hear the first song in this series.

Read the next article in the series or hear the next song in the series.

For the index of all songs in this blog click here.

I have a great fondness for this song, for more information start here.

Gaza or ghetto?

Gaza starts its suicide

What on earth were the representatives of Gaza or Iranian backed Hamas hoping for when they attacked Israel? Do they think they will beat Israel out of land they each see as theirs by right, or is there a bigger (regional) plan in-train?

Was their attack, well planned and executed as it obviously was, undertaken to trigger an inevitable reactionary beating from Israel, to incite Israel's "enemies" to cry "overkill" and then "step-in" to this war; thereby achieving sustained punishment for Israel that they alone, from Gaza, could not sustain. Are the representatives of the people of Gaza, or Hamas, prepared to sacrifice Gaza in order to give Israel the physical and moral beating they desire? (by March 2024 my assertion seems to be coming true as world players line-up to condemn the action of Israel in the prosecution of its retaliation).

To use a simple analogy; if you knew life imprisonment (in Gaza) was your collective future, would you believe it better to have your guards (Israel) eliminated once and for all, even if you had to die in the process? The representatives of Gaza seem to think so, along with others, for Gaza surely couldn't have manufactured the thousands of missiles they launched into Israel.

Is Gaza Israel's "ghetto" and have it's occupants finally risen as the wheel of  history turns once again?

Howsoever "we" look at this uprising, it it not good for anyone. By triggering the destruction of Gaza, this collective suicide by Palestinians and Iran funded Hamas is intended to cause unimaginable trouble for Israel (and pals), for this orchestrated war could prove to be a fuse to yet another regional conflict with global potential as some are voicing concerns that Israel is behaving like a Nazi-like state.

The fuse needs to be stopped as soon as possible please and if you think this article is reasonable, please pass it on. To start you information searches, it may be good to start with a history of Israel's borders.

To keep a balanced view try this and then this, then this bit of history.

9th Oct 2023 - Gaza will have nothing and Rhetoric has started.

9th Dec 2023 - Israel really does intend to erase Gaza

17 Jan 2024 - by this time the whole region is in turmoil, with Iran as a new regional aggressor and Israel as a dedicated killing machine under Netanyahu's jackboot leadership, smarting with vengeance.

If you want to follow more of my comments on this war follow this topic.

Meaningful songs #10 - CHARLES AZNAVOUR

This is the tenth in an occasional series of songs from my collection, with the intent of introducing music to younger readers that they may gain appreciation of music from the classic years, 1957-1990. 

I have lived long enough to hear the "popular" music industry become ever-more formulaic, lazy, uninspiring and cynical; delivering "units" and "artistes" as interesting and memorable as polished mud.

Meaningful songs that eloquently convey a story, sentiment, or social comment and make it to national consciousness are rare these days. If you agree this song is meaningful, please introduce it to someone young; they might enjoy becoming "musical archaeologists".

Todays song, titled "She", released in 1974, is by a French singer called CHARLES AZNAVOUR.

Charles Aznavour

Hear the song here

I love this song because my mum loved it and I loved her. Though she died very early this song allows me to see her again in my memories, sometimes with tears.  As a lament to a woman not yet met, Charles Aznavour speculates about characteristics she may exhibit, but non-the-less he would accept those as "souvenirs",  should they ever meet. To read about his life start here.

SHE

She may be the face I can't forget

A trace of pleasure I regret

May be the treasure

or the price I have to pay

She may be the song that summer sings

May be the chill that autumn brings

May be a hundred different things

Within the measure of the day

She may be the beauty or the beast

May be the famine or the feast

May turn each day into a heaven

or a hell

She may be the mirror of my dream

A smile reflected in a stream

She may not be what she may seem

Inside her shell

She who always seems so happy in a crowd

Who's eyes can be so private and so proud

No one's allowed to see them when they cry

She may be the love that cannot hope to last

May come to me from shadows of the past

That I'll remember 'till the day I die

She may be the reason I survive

The why and wherefore I'm alive

The one I'll care for the rough and rainy years

I'll take her laughter and her tears

And make them all my souvenirs

For where she goes I've got to be

The meaning of my life is she

She, she

  

There is another Charles Aznavour song in this series and a creditable cover of She by Elvis Costello.

Return to the first article in this series or hear the first song in this series.

Read the next article in this series or hear the next song in this series.

For the index of all songs in this blog click here.

THE SAILOR'S ROMANCE

Before

This was a perfect holiday that I am thinking about, except for one night when a howling gale buried lots of things in sand. I'm talking about a beach holiday on Abersoch beach (and dunes) in Wales. Windy Wales as we nicknamed it when we got home. Apparently inundation by sand is not uncommon near Abersoch.

This poem was inspired by the balmy, warm, whispering wind we had everyday of that holiday; to lay on that beach with the salty smell of sea being gently wafted by the warm breeze was glorious, but in just one night we were reminded of the power and majesty of a howling gale; beach huts were buried, dunes moved around and boats wrecked.

I saw two sides of wind, then imagined myself a sailor out at sea .....

   

THE SAILOR'S ROMANCE

  

Who she is I cannot say,

for she is the wind

calm or ruthless.

Where she comes from I cannot know,

for she is the wind.

  

The wrath of her I have endured

with whistling voice and icy fingers.

Tearing at sail she was uncaring,

oblivious to mortal fear.

Yes, I have feared that wrath,

her fearsome strength.

For she is the wind,

So real, yet unreal.

  

This mystic beauty has but two facets,

good or bad;

a raging, screaming, exhilarating, beauty,

a calm, serene, whispering Madonna.

An ethereal force swaying trees and grasses,

ships and minds to sleep.

May we sway my majesty?

For this is your facet of enchantment,

this is the facet of my love.

My love for the unknown.

DAUGHTER OF THE DEEP  was also inspired by the storm

Person comment - At this time, the song "Hallelujah", written by Leonard Cohen, was covered by  Alexandra Burke, though because of him being Welsh I've linked here to John Cale's version.

Meaningful songs #9 - BILLY PAUL

This is the ninth in an occasional series of songs from my collection, with the intent of introducing music to younger readers that they may gain appreciation of music from the classic years, 1957-1990. 

I have lived long enough to hear the "popular" music industry become ever-more formulaic, lazy, uninspiring and cynical; delivering "units" and "artistes" as interesting and memorable as polished mud.

Meaningful songs that eloquently convey a story, sentiment, or social comment and make it to national consciousness are rare these days. If you agree this song is meaningful, please introduce it to someone young; they might enjoy becoming "musical archaeologists".

Todays song, titled "Me And Mrs Jones", released in 1972, is by a singer called BILLY PAUL.

Hear the song here

This song is a story about conflicted emotions, describing an extramarital affair, transacted in a cafe.

ME AND MRS JONES

Me and Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

We both know that it's wrong

But it's much too strong to lit it go now

  

We meet every day at the same café 

Six-thirty, and no one knows she'll be there

Holding hands, making all kinds of plans

While the jukebox plays our favourite song

  

CHORUS

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones

Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

We both know that it's wrong

But it's much too strong to let it go now

  

We got to be extra careful

That we don't build our hopes up too high

'Cause she's get her own obligation

And so do I

  

CHORUS

Well it's time for us to be leaving

It hurts so much, it hurts so much inside

Now she'll go her way and I'll go mine

But tomorrow we'll meet at the same place, same time

It's much too strong to let it go now

Me and Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones

Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones

We got a thing going on

We gotta be extra careful (thing going on)

We can't afford to build our hopes up too high

I wanna meet (thing going on)

And talk with you

At the same place

The same café

The same time

And we're gonna hold hands like we used to

We're gonna talk it over, talk it over (thing going on)

We know, they know

And you know and I know that it was wrong

Well I don't think it's wrong

We gotta let it go now

We got a thing going on, a thing going on

Return to the first article in this series or hear the first song in this series.

Read the next article in this series or hear the next song in this series.

For the index of all songs in this blog click here.