The Weapon of Solitude

A lonely walk to bedroom cold
Just lying there to grow so old
No warmth from heart entwined with mine
No special hugs my soul to dine,
Just sorry thoughts and empty silence
Hurt so bad, by lonely violence,
Alas such feelings cant be shown
For that would break a happy home
But lying here for one more night
Brings one less day that i can fight
To save whats left of who i am
And stop her crazy master plan
I'm almost lost for all to see
For underneath this all.. it's me
Will I survive and learn to live?
Pray God... for I have much to give.

It is but a pen.

In battle zone I met a man, all rags and face of pain
I stopped awhile and spoke his tongue, he never gave his name,
"What ails you sir i spoke with zest why does life treat you so?
Your face unshaven clothes all torn and nowhere left to go,"

He spoke in softest tone on life, surprised at what I'd said,
"I have but words to tell my tale a writer born and bred,
I dared to speak of right and wrong and stood for all that's right,
I spoke of men and guns and wars and warned all those who'd fight".

"Then lines of soldiers past my way and threw me to the floor
They tore my clothes and spat at me and cursed my writing more,
I was chained and maniculed, imprisoned for such views,
By men who yearn to kill and maim, we few who spread such news".

"So there i sat in prison cell, words came to my salvation,
My mind still active full of thoughts on how to save this nation,
Then time passed onwards, shooting stopped outside the silence came,
A key then heard in cell door lock saw freedom once again".

The writer glanced from where he lay one eye cocked to the sun
The warmth engulfed his tired limbs, from beatings he was numb,
"The truth i chant in verse and rhyme for all to choke and eat,
Such words not welcome hereabouts thrown down at general's feet ".

"I stood alone and faced the crowds with words my only gun
Above the cries of blood and hate their hearts i thought i'd won
But little did i guess you see how ignorance can spread,
And that my words were such a threat that they should want me dead".

I helped the writer to his feet his frame so weak and frail
A consequence of standing firm whilst locked away in jail
"One thing" said i "before you leave, pray tell what drives you then?"
Without a second thought he smiled and whispered ".. it's my pen"   

Daddy's girl...

For Dad's.


I lay beside my daddy as he spoke with softest tone
The words that I remembered well when i was far from home

He whispered soft and tenderly as we just cuddled tight
"Whenever you just need a friend in deepest darkest night,"

"Just close your eyes and lay your head and gently drift away
And take for granted I am there as promised, every day",

For Daddy's never far away, he never loses track
Of where his little girl may be, or when she's coming back

And as I gaze at tired eyes, the years have passed us by
That look of love's still burning there, enough to make me cry

But now he lays his tired head to rest a final time
I stroke his greying hair so soft as once he tended mine

I lay beside him one more time as we so often would
and whispered 'Dad I love you so" and "yes I will be good..."

Though Angels now protect his soul and lift it to on high
I know we'll cuddle once again, my Daddy wouldn't lie.

And yes the tears replace the smiles in each and every way,
But I just know he'll still be there, ..as promised.. every day.   

A light went out today.

For a very good friend of mine x


A light went out today
It's all that i can say
A light that shone so brightly
A light that held me tightly

A light went out today
Took part of me away,
Beside me on my every walk
An understanding without talk

A light went out today
No more for us to play,
A collar sits on single hook
No better friend God could have took

A light went out today
And no, I'm not ok,
Just give me time to grieve
As best friends shouldn't leave.

For giving love without exception
Coming home to your reception
Being there when hugs were due
For loyalty... and being you.

A light went out today,
That's all I want to say.

Speak? Not I.

You turn your back and walk away
Refuse to speak or even take the calls
A lonely existence ensues
Your mind convincing you it's right
Your heart locked down in cellar tight
A silence that can deafen it's call is so loud
Yet pride won't have it any other way,
A right of passage for your generation
How dare parents stop your celebration
You will show them.
But filter out the background noise
That pride can lift as if a veil on truth
Listen with all your might, listen,
For just a split second you may catch
A sobbing sound that you can match,
Another heart in cellar bound.
And so the madness of silence continues.
Pride has won the day.

Maketh the man.

"The wind is lazy, cold today"
"It cuts straight through you" Dad would say,

It took my breath and made me gasp,
As dad's huge hand I reached to grasp.

That reassurance seemed required,
As on we walked though I grew tired.

We stopped the odd time, caught our breath,
That heartless wind chilled us to death.

Though the walk seemed tough to bear,
We strode on fearless. Not a care.

For here we were amongst old friends,
That distant view that never ends.

Such beauty overwhelmed our being,
Our Shropshire hill's a sight for seeing

We stood there just my Dad and I,
No words were needed, ...by and by.
 
A timeless moment,  not a sound,
Just chilling breeze now all around.

A moment out, of lifetimes toil,
A memory no man could spoil.

For these are thoughts that make me so,
A life that I am blessed to know.

Would Jubilee've it? a Commonwealth of stars and egos's.

I sat quite still last night (in no small way due to a current back injury) and settled in to watch the Jubilee concert held to celebrate 60 years of hard work by Her Majesty the Queen, admittedly it has been 60 very cosseted and comfortable years, where she has wanted for absolutely nothing, but I wonder just how many of us would really want THAT lifestyle where heir's and grace's are everyday occurrences and you can't break wind without a comment in the newspapers as to how long it lasted and why it happened. Definitely NOT for me that's for sure.
I was also intrigued I must admit, to see just what sort of job Auntie Beeb made of it, after the horrendous fallout from the previous day's boating extravaganza that never actually got off the ground due to some of the worst commentating and even more horrendous production ever witnessed, (apart from Sam Fox and Mick Fleetwood at the BRITS that is). So, settled in with a small Scotch (medicinal purposes of course), I watched as Robbie Williams made what can only be described as the perfect start, the crowd were ecstatic and Robbie did exactly what he does best, show off in his own inimitable style. I thought to myself, mmmm this is going to be a good one for sure!.
We then had Will-i-am and if i am honest i am a bit of a Will-i'm-not fan but hey i cant love everyone out there. Jesse-J outshone the pampered pouter Will by a million to one with a voice straight out of the 'you are gonna get this like it or not' school of singing,  thus bringing us back on course for a great evening. Gary Barlow then appeared with Cheryl Cole, which brought the proceedings down a notch or two, Gary was his usual smooth, confident self but Cheryl looked like a rabbit caught in front of some car headlights, I thought at any minute she was going to roll up her train and make a run for it, unusual indeed for the normally very confident Ms Cole, perhaps the whole occasion was a little overpowering.

Credit where it is due though, the production and camera work and angles were well up to worldwide standard, obviously Auntie B had pulled her veritable tights up and raised the bar somewhat. Ed Sheeran captivated the whole Country with his wonderful down to earth almost acoustic performance, showing us that quality is best left untouched, while Sir Cliff came along and for the first time,  I have to admit the Peter Pan of pop looked a little more Captain Hook than he would like to admit, but his final rendition of 'congratulations' brought the audience to it's feet once more. It would take someone far more qualified than me to explain what came next, Grace Jones... errr well yes,  it was exactly what i would expect from her, outrageous and in your face, but what the hell was she doing amongst some of the biggest stars in music ever to grace the planet? What on earth was Gary Barlow thinking when Grace Jones popped into his head ?... I can only take a guess and the answer would probably have to go out after the watershed. This whole performance lasted 3 cringe worthy minutes as the amazing Grace hoopla's, yes you heard it, hoopla's.. her way through 'Slave To the Rhythym'..(indeed we were Grace indeed we were)  we were all here showing the world how to party and someone invites Russel Harty's nemesis with the voice of a plumbers mate and the jaw line and body of a female Arnold Schwarzenegger. Nil pwunts Gary.
The old Crooner was up next, still looking sexy and a knockout, Tom Jones brought the standard back up to par, what a voice that man has got !. Delilah was a huge hit with the audience and i am sure we were all singing 'she's only gone and had her Weetabix' the temptation was far too much. JLS meanwhile were the token under 12's entertainment for the night but again I have to say they performed very well even though i am not sure whether Prince Charles was actually compos mentis while they were on.
 Rolf Harris that perennial Ozzy favourite of ours who is surely second only to Her Majesty in the country's affections then appeared to a huge round of applause and rightly so, as by now things were getting a little bit deja-vu as far as these things go, lots of back-slapping and compliments, decidedly dodgy comedians jokes read off the auto-cue and too many ego's in the same place to be worth listening to.

Some fantastic opera singing then followed, beautifully produced, then wonderfully executed by Alfie Boe and Renee Fleming, who unfortunately for her was the brunt of one of the worst gags of the night from an otherwise faultless performance by the venerable Rob Brydon. Lenny Henry introduced Her Majesty and was a little close to the knuckle but that's Lenny, but then one of the most disappointing parts of the night came when Rolf was asked to fill in while the Stevie Wonder entourage rebuilt the stage for their own use, Rolf even had Princess Anne singing 'Two Little Boys' word for word while the rest of the audience were held  in the cusp of his hand,  when Lenny Henry was told to interrupt him because Stevie Wonder was ready. The resounding instant Boo's were as instant and as meaningful as they were deserved and the look on Rolf's face was one of shear disbelief. I sometimes wonder if the backroom production staff are far too time limit orientated to notice the actual crowd they are putting it all together for, if they weren't so time paranoid they would have noticed Rolf had actually got the whole Country's attention and hearts.

Stevie Wonder looked and performed so very very well, the only strange part was Will-I-Am-hereagain getting in on the act, clearly the strangely named over-hyped Howard from the Halifax look-alike crooner holds court in some very high places.
Kylie was exquisite, if understated showing zero sized models exactly why men prefer curves and a nice bottom, while Annie Lennox made an appearance, again I wonder if some of these stars are asked just because they are 'always' there, if that is the case then it's time it was looked at, as the performance of her 'missing an angel' was very 'same old same old' and did nothing to inspire. Then came Elton, well what can one say about Elton?. The country love him and he loves this country. He does so much to inspire and gives thousands to charities across the globe so the guy can do no wrong.
Then as promised we had Madness on the roof of Bucks Palace, Madness could play in the Paris sewers and they would fill the place, so seeing them here was a stroke of genius by our venerable Mr Barlow, he is clearly in tune with how high an esteem this bunch of 'nutty boys' are held in by this wonderful nation of ours hearts and they didn't disappoint and the use of the Palace walls as a screen for the video worked like a Swiss watch with impeccable timing and faultless display, so once more i found myself lifted to the very rafters with a feeling of  Britishness long since forgotten i suspect by many of us during these hard recession hit times.
What came next was for me, the Pièce de résistance, a song born from every corner of the Commonwealth produced and written by Gary (again) and his holiness Andrew Lloyd Weber who were both on stage to help perform this wonderful soundtrack to the reign of a Monarch, as inspirational as it was brilliant, it showed the world just who is the best when it comes to songwriting and questioned why as a nation we allow those Eurovision cronies the time of day to dare judge us musically. The whole performance was exquisite and brought a tear to the eye.
Paul McCartney was next up after a huge fan fair and again Paul is held very dear to us all as a nation, his songs along with the other 3 Beatles were the soundtrack to nearly everyone while growing up and he is in any case a great guy in all respects, but and it's here i may suffer the wrath of many with a possible spell in the Tower at Her Majesty's pleasure, I do think the voice is starting to age faster than his music with the vocal performance very much down on par.
Prince Charles then read out a very moving speech to 'mummy' as he called her, though judging by her Majesty's expression to this quip he may be in the same cell as me in the Tower if he says it again!. As expected Queen Elizabeth II stood there and took it all in her stride, she was her usual regal royal self, unfazed and completely at ease while the whole Country gave her a well deserved round of applause.

So all in all was it a success? Of course it was. Though I feel that anyone thinking of putting another huge gig on for the Country for whatever reason may have to look a little deeper into the performers pool to catch a few up and coming stars, as judging by some of the performances and performers on stage at this gig some of them may have already sung their swansong and i for one would be keen to see some new blood filtering through,  otherwise when all these huge stars do actually put the microphone away we may have some difficulty filling their shoes,  but in the meantime if i was Gary Barlow I would sit back, put the feet up and wait for the invitation from the Palace to drop through the letterbox, got a ring to it 'Sir' Gary don't you think?









 

Lap of the 'God's'?. They would like to think so.

'What you sew so shall you reap' is a saying i am sure the majority of us are well aquainted with (at least in the over 25's)!  and I think that is more prevelant now in the Business banking sector of this Country than ever before. Time and again I hear from my business partners and fellow bosses about harsh treatment handed out by the beloved big four. Stories of epic fights for the right to common sense are common place with staff being unable or unwilling to correct mistakes made or to lend a helping hand or money where it is obviously so required.

This recession (the longest and hardest I think any of us will ever know pray God) has taken it's toll on many big names and even more small family businesses. The former usually because of a mire of rot that has set in and eaten away at the business for years like a cancer downs a living being. But in the case of the latter a lot of the time it is usually something singular like the loss of one contract or someone doesn't pay their huge bill.
Both happenings are sad and are part of a wide ever changing circle much like life. Life and death should be accepted by us all obviously and if you haven't accepted either yet then my advice is to start planning for both as soon as possible, because if you are reading this then you are definitely alive and the other i guarantee will follow!.
During my time at the helm of a small business I have watched very much in anger at the way the bank's can happily change their tune at the drop of a hat, for instance, these days it is almost guaranteed that you will not see a bank manager as such, you will have a call centre to talk to with staff who will give your details to a group of managers sat at their phones making day to day decisions, or 'God's' as they like to be known.
These guys believe that they have the power of life and death hence the 'God's' quip. One day they will grant a request for a small business and the next they will write their epitaph and even contact the undertaker for them while selecting the hymns, that is the power that they yield and revel in. These pompous underlings with the business acumen of a fried potato chip are all that stands between economic growth and stagnation, no surprise a double dip here then.

In fact, this is not exactly correct. You see, as much as the God's would like to think they have the ear of British business and that they make all the life and death decisions, they too are being used by their bosses to simply fire the bullets, they have no more power than the man in the street. The real decision makers are shareholders. Banks are a business. never forget that while you are dealing with them and you will be fine, the difference is to a certain extent they have a captive audience and rather than be customer driven they drive the customer.

Like it or not we are all in the same boat, a group of people in this Country have the say on how this economy runs and it isn't MP's,  they (the banks) have it wrong and we will stay in recession until that changes. To rebuild Britain we need to rebuild the businesses that made us the best. We dont need sound bites from politicians especially quite frankly the worst government in living history (except the Gordon Brown era of course), we need a recovery plan. Now there is a word you worryingly don't hear at the moment...recovery.

My point of writing today however is that through talking to other like minded business people there is one fact that remains a constant. It is a message to all those banks who wallow in their own self righteousness preaching to the brow beaten small businesses about austerity and planning while dining out with the very money that those small businesses paid out in order to bail out those pompous, immoral beings from their self made holocaust and STILL they hand out bonuses.
Cometh the day ... if the banks continue their course of greed and intolerance as they are now then when we do get to a meaningful recovery there is going to be a very very tough time ahead for the 'God's' and their henchmen bosses. Even I dare to say a banking revolution. I personally cant wait.

The Haunting

In darkest corner cold and damp
A fellow sits and stares
His jacket worn too many times
His socks no longer pairs

He sits alone in silent thought
Like life just etched him so
His laces lie untied and frayed
His head bowed down so low,

A shadow forms across his face
Where once a razor drew
The greying hair a testament
To all that he's been through.

No seat has he just boarded floor
To rest upon and dwell
A punch drunk look of life and times
A living breathing hell

I look so deep into his eyes
To find what lies within
But stand in shock it's thin disguise
'Tis I sat there not him.

A little hope.

When you look but cannot see
You leave but not arrive
Believe but it's beyond the truth
Live life but not alive

When light is total darkness
When sound is silent too
When every day is black as night
And every colour's blue,

When happiness is something less
And friends forget you're there
The only season's winter,
And the cupboards always bare

Find strength where once was weakness
Find love where once was none
Believe that you can beat the odds
Your future's just begun.
.