‘The Bits the Bomb Left Behind’ by Zoolon
I’m cursed with allergies to pollen and dust. I do all the right things, take Loratadine tablets, live in sunglasses 24/7, stuff Vaseline up my nose, encase all the bedding. Stuff like that. Nothing works. This time of the year when pollen levels are off the scale, I’m the bloke sneezing for England you all try to avoid. Lately I’ve even given up on the idea of driving my car because my eyes stream so bad. A bit like a tap someone forgot to turn off. So, you’ll get my drift when I say I’ll try almost anything to cure this problem. Note the ‘almost’.
The other day, a mate says that he knows how to cure the pollen allergy in less than a week. I told him to talk some more. He says, “Stinging nettles.” I say, “And?” He says, “You have to sting yourself everyday for a week and that’s you sorted.” I say, “How come you know all this?” He says, “I forgot, but it’s true. Honest.”
I had a good think, then asked him, “What part of me do I have to sting?” He says, “F**k knows.” Hardly helpful. Mission aborted before it even started.
Anyway. ‘Bombs’. The pic above is of a WW2 bombed out church – called St James’s Church, it’s in the middle of the town where I live. It had stood since Anglo-Saxon times until the bomb landed on it. After the war, the little plaque I found on the wall says that the town council wanted to knock the rest of the place down and build on it. The local’s protested. The local’s won, and now it’s a monument. I don’t do religion personally, but respect the beliefs of others – we share the same values, more or less – and believe we’d all agree that the local’s did the right thing. They froze time. Kept memories safe. Here’s another shot of the place.
‘The Path the Ghost Walks’
Another thing. I’d like to thank the anonymous person who wrote a great review for my book on Amazon UK. If it’s one of you kind people out there, then please know that I’m grateful. Here’s the link THE WORDS & THOUGHTS OF A DYSLEXIC MUSICIAN
A few words;
THE HERE & NOW
A little kid crying in a metal cage
Poor girl’s not even two years of age
Wrong, right side of centre ground morons in a rage
Heartless F Wit’s reading off the wrong page
The big man’s laughing his head off backstage
A new Hitler’s come of age?
Lastly, some music. A number I made from 2016 called, ‘Shout At Newsreels’. I guess you’d call it a protest song. Hope you like it;
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