A BELL THAT DOESN’T CHIME You’re looking for a heroThat hero isn’t meI gave up counting daydreamsAnd climbed into historyOn that day I saw a thousand gravesThey all said ‘Aged 19’Wall to wall white marble stoneStood on grass so greenThey went on for milesAs far as I could seeRelics of remembranceA cosmic storm’s debris Were
Tag: Poetry to Song
Memories & new words are pretty much what my new book ‘Looking for Reasons’ is all about. Without ‘memories’ that inspire, whether they’re from yesterday or last year or ages ago, there would be no ‘new words’; no new songs. I like it that sometimes a few photographs from before trigger lyrical verse. Anyhow, here’s
It may seem like Toy TownWhen you’re looking down from up aboveBut in reality what you’ll find thereAre the lovers and the unloved Like anywhere else around the worldOpposites attractNorth and south and east and westThere’s no argument, it’s a fact Umbrellas for a rainy daySledges for the snowBarbeques come summertimeAutumn Bonfire Night’s multi-coloured show
Originally from my song, ‘Liquid Truth’ – written in 2012, me a first year music student back then – these words below open Zoolon’s new book called, ‘LOOKING FOR REASONS’. They just about sum me up. ‘When will all the pieces come together,And if I don’t like the picture am I stuck with it forever?’
Art work by Funniest Animal Videos I was reading an article that said when in the mood a cat can count up to 7. My immediate thought was that that made a mockery of the 9 lives theory, given that cats must be in no man’s land after 7 disastrous accidents. I wondered how the
LOOKING FOR REASONS Looking for reasonsMe, you and sheFighting for justiceAnd taking the kneeA paradise lostNow under the seaAn invisible pandemicCries out a stupid “Yippee”It kills mostly the poorThan it does the bourgeoisieMostly the poorWho will never be free Anything goesWhen powers agreeTo turn a blind eyeAt the death of some treeThey count all their
A FREE-VIEW SKY ‘I think I’ve played this game before’Said the dreamer to the realist‘I get to close my eyes and count to 10Before you shoot this guitarist?’ ‘There is no time for your pointless make believeAll I want from you are factsMy world knows only black and whiteAnd fantasy distractsImagination counts for nothingThe same
STARING AT THE SUN Made the music, captured the magic for a song I’d never writeEyes wide open staring at the sun I gave up on the fightI’d spent my blind days searching for a single ray of lightA lost cause, I could see clearly now, no rescued dreams tonight Wherever there’s love and hope
HOWLING AT THE MOON It’s a pointless conversationIn a dark and empty roomYou might as well go speak toThe grey wolf howling at The Moon Searching for castles in the airLost in that same dark and empty roomThinking of tomorrow’s daydreamsPraying they’ll come true sometime soon This day, it counts for nothingWorldwide, faces in disguiseIn
Hiding away where no one can find you is so much better than living out a pandemic locked away in a no man’s land where everyone thinks they ‘absolutely‘ must scores moral points. The old blind lady knew that. She’d lived through wars and famine and years of the hatred of people like her, who
