Forgive

Let me live in the past tonight

I go there alone

No matter where the mind wanders

It can’t hold your hand here

Can’t take your strength

I need to go back

And wander

The rooms of my existence

Before you came

Pick up those memories

Like ornaments to be examined

Look at them closely

Blow the dust that gathers

And increases their menace

Blow it off to reveal

Innocent endeavour misconstrued

Put them down

And move on

And forgive

And in moving through those rooms of the past

Come across,

Finally

A covered mirror

Unveiled

Regard the face there

And finally forgive

That one most blamed by me

Deadlines

I walk in the town

Where my son lives

Deadlines tie him

With no time to give

I watch at a table a son

And his mother

Laughing show pictures

Have fun with each other

I read in the paper

On coffee shop table

Of mother and son, missing, unstable

A smiling photo, chubby twinkle

Stares out from report, heart sinking

Tears, blur vision, drop in cappuccino

Reservoir dragged, bodies found, final

And the cheeks of the baby

Will never grow slim

To be the man laughing

His mother with him

Or moaning that more notice should be given

To bestow a five minute visit

On a mother unbidden

From grief at my lonely existence

I cry for the boy, his mother, this nonsense

That life takes us all

At one time or another

Casts a knife between

A son and his mother

The story in the news

Deadlines

Lines of dead

It’s November,

That baby didn’t want to go swimming

In that reservoir

All those dreams

Flowing a future in droplets

Of water

Drunk by others into their system

I hope they honour that

Dead Child

Dead child

I am not spinning around in your arms

I am not getting sweets with my charms

I am not playing a puzzle with friends

A bullet and knife is where my life ends

I haven’t known a day without fear

I haven’t felt a family near

I am broken from birth to the grave

Time counted in months was all that life gave

I know you fear me though I am just small

I don’t know you, don’t know you at all

I know you have children precious to you

My mother died crying because she knew

I woke in her arms still safe

Protected from breathing the dust of hate

Her eyes were dull sparkle gone

No answer to Mama?

2, alone

I am not a human to you

I am not a child

To you I am a ticking bomb

About to go wild

Support your own

By rote your favourite saying

What child of ours deserves to be slain

Support, love, universal truths

sperm egg the colour of youth

The future, the smile, the reaching out hand

Stopped in dead children spread over the land

A curse not from my lips will ever come

As blood seeps to earth dried by bitter sun

Remembrance flowers grow from the earth I nourish

Your little plot protected to flourish

I am only a child

I love to laugh

And when I cry

To have a hug,

Mum worried about my chesty cough

But now dead because I am shot.

My eyes stare now I don’t see

Tell me how the world will be

Lying broken, dead not asleep

No lullaby sung and no sweet dreams

EMcGinty 2017

First published in For The Many Not The Few Vol 1 compiled by CT Meek

Fiery Bird Show feat Dear Mr Pop Star author Dave Philpott & Jackfest Organiser Andy Mabbutt

In the first hour (13 mins in due to a tech hitch unusually not of my making 😉 of this week’s Fiery Bird Show on Radio Woking – Dave Dawson aka Philpott and his Dad Derek, have spent time writing to pop stars to point out the error of their ways, the inaccurate lyrics, the impossible assertions ‘No, Heaven cannot be a place on Earth Belinda!’ and, in many situations these pop stars wrote back, poo-pooing their assertions or sometimes admitting it caused them a reflective hour on whether they should continue music. Dave and Derek compiled a book called Dear Mr Pop Star which shares the collection of their hilarious exchanges. We spent half an hour talking about the process they went through, the things they got up to to reach people and how it all came about.

The second hour was all about Jackfest, a local fundraising gig put on by Andy Mabbutt and team to raise money for Shooting Star CHASE the hospice that supports his family and nephew Jack and so many other children locally. On 26 January Andy has organised a night of music at Fiery Bird, with DJ’s, 5 bands, raffles of signed merchandise from a variety of well known bands and much more. He spoke about the charity and shared some music from some of the bands playing as well as others who have donated items. Tickets for the event can be obtained here and more details here

To listen again to hear the show here – it starts 13 mins in

Play List

Small Man In Big Shoes – Steve Brookes

Spirit In The Sky – Dr & The Medics

Top of The Pops – The Rezillos

Got To Find A Better Way – The Sha La La’s

Dirty Rock n Rolla – Rollin Machine

Standing On The Top – Stone Foundation

You Are – Argonaut

Mango – Birdsworth

Ska Rhythm – Dakka Skanks

Vote For Me – The Specials

Soul Drummer – Ray Barretto

White Coats – Baxter Dury

Twinkle Twinkle

I saw a murmuration

It reminded me

Of all those times

When sadness overwhelmed

I felt at the end

Outside, beyond the pale

Vilified and made insane

And scratching at my own psyche

I had nowhere else to go

But down

Check out

No one wants you here

You make their lives easier

By not being around

And then selfishly

As I stood in the cold night

And gazed upwards

Realised

It would rob me of the stars

That have been there poor

And rich

That have been a place to run to

Always

Always looking to the sky

In my everyday and my despair

The tree that overlooks

The mother tree

For mother me

The birds that swoop in community formation

The moon, enriches and inspires

I never knew it stole its light from the sun

Always thought it was its own regard

And

The stars

There, a path

But so brilliant that they are

Twinkle twinkle little star

You saved my life

Future Unfurled – World Part 2

I’m crying about a dog that waits for the dead

It’s something on facebook I just read

I’m shocked by unkempt coat he bears

But the food bank grows while I browse there

I’m saying we should look after our own

Whilst voting that my tax should go on down

I’m crying over dogs and abandoned kitties

But don’t care for the homeless in this hard city

I’m calling out scroungers whilst cash in hand

I work a short day in this rich land

I’m calling out people who work with compassion

Whilst ‘you lost get over it’ is my new fashion

I’m writing a letter to my MP

Waving it frantically for all to see

I’m shiny and proud of my generous hamper

To foodbank I go, Christmas joy camper

My list that I tick off my festive duties

Good work, examples for my children’s future

At this special season we must share

But not all year round – don’t you dare

My favourite mantra look after our own

Charity you see, begins at home

364 days they are drunks and addicts

1 day my halo is bright and lit

With the self satisfied feeling I do my duty

Unwrap my self service sipping my green tea

Settle in to a comfortable tv debate

Repeat you lost get over it, it is too late

And the bastions of health and safety

A yellow high vis heralds revolutionary

Police drop their helmets to join in the anthem

We pathetic look on as our country dismantled

Like the austere aunt in a black jet gown

We fulfill their rule in our soul less town

Cover up the table legs they spark our passion

Whilst flagellate mercy, justice, compassion

We are all lost, we are all lost, in glitter and jungle

We are destroying hope, wait for what song will

Finally sound the note to wake us

To rebuild what thus greed takes from us

It’s not the bricks, the things you buy

But within us what we can try

To make each of us as one another

Start to see the future on here

That schism is as was foretold

But who said we have to listen to the old

The point of these texts is to goad a new horizon

Where we contemplate gentle goodness and take in

A chance to reset this despicable spin

Of the world that loves its vicious sin

As some kind of hair shirt

It measured itself

When easier to just breathe into its health

Why fight for the right when it is ours already

Confidence breeds its new reality

And we can be the architects too

I in me and me in you

I feel sad for those who logic reveals

Cannot feel the rhythm that informs and heals

There is truth in our molecular make up

That articulates nothing you can write on paper

You know it is there your heart is truthful

For those who fear need find a way through

This tiresome world cries to us to save it

We have one chance, now lets take it.

Dismantle structure set to bind

Let kindness flow out where there is kind

Give love the strength that rage did bear

And silence where the ignorant roared

So quiet truth has its day

And the voiceless finally have their say

That resets how we shape our world

The second part of future unfurled

A DISCOURSE ON THE HISTORY OF FASHION c 2011

I am not sure if I am a proper woman.

I needed new shoes, ones with high heels and wanted to be a grown up but couldn’t be arsed, when the girls were trying on Ugg style boots in ShoeFayre, just raring to go for dropped insteps and walking like Nans aged 11 and 12.

Ugg boots look like they were a drawing of boots by toddlers which flew out of a nursery window one morning in a high mountain village in the alps where there is still a toymaker who makes wooden toys…and the picture flies through the window of a chalet hotel where a high class American shoe designer is staying. Under pressure from their employers for new ideas; they sit, despairing, in their room. How do they tell their family their job has gone at Christmas time? (sorry did I not mention it was Christmas? Oh and the designer will be played by Steve Martin or Adam Sandler if he’s not available) They absentmindedly pick up the piece of paper that has flown through the window and crunch it into a ball to lob in the bin basketball stylie; just then they stop, mid throw and uncurl the ravaged paper, spreading it out on the small desk and switch on the desk lamp, pondering. Quickly they take out an ancient leather case with pencils and sketch pad and are seen working through the night surrounded by sketches.

The next morning excited, and unshaven they put a call through to America waking their disgruntled boss – they have found it! A new shoe design to sweep the world, and, as in the case of the Emperors New Clothes people everywhere from Sydney to Montreal are seen sporting brown boots made from a toddler’s drawing thinking they are stylish. The film shoots to scenes of lots of newspapers spinning round and round with headlines on and the once despairing designer accepting accolade after accolade and award after award.

Hollywood stars are shown wearing the Ugg boot to the Oscars under their haute couture, nuns sporting Uggs under their habits are seen kneeling at Mass, the Queen of England does her Christmas Speech in them (as Cliff Richard, the Young Ones and all of the Spice Girls circumnavigate Big Ben in an Ugg shaped National Express coach with Richard E Grant yawning with ennui on the back seat making notes to sack his agent ) All the time the toddler in the alpine village grows up not knowing their part in all of this, and, as they flee their jobless village to end up sleeping rough in the backstreets of an industrial German town committing petty crime to feed their drug habit, they lie in the street, zoned out on crack cocaine and watching feet shuffle by, to go home, to go out, to get married, to party, to church, to divorce court, but all of them, every single one, clad in an Ugg boot…..if only……..

In next week’s fashion histories !!!!!!

How Mary Mungo and Midge felt when Vidal Sassoon stole the idea for the iconic Bob hairstyle, passing off as his own, the style created by a carpenter called Bob in the canteen of the hip 60’s cartoon. What would they all think now even Vidal, to know, that blow dried vigorously with mousse, it is synonymous with people who want to speak to the manager in any unsatisfactory retail situation.

SPECIAL OFFER! SUBSCRIBE TO FASHION HISTORIES FOR ONLY £45 PER MONTH AND LEARN ABSOLUTELY FECK ALL ABOUT FASHION; COLLECTING PIECES OF COTTON EVERY MONTH TO BUILD YOUR OWN UNIQUE THREAD COLLECTION ISSUE 1 COMES WITH FREE DISPLAY CASE.

BE THE ENVY OF YOUR FRIENDS AND LOCAL HABERDASHERY RETAILER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PS In case you are wondering I got some shoes – they’re black.

Humanity Lands

This was the poem that became Humanity Lands – the title track of Phoenix Chroi’s second album

I’ve done my penance

Walked on my knees

Fixed on a star

Through the wood and the trees

And as I traversed this scorched earth

I never regretted that I gave birth

I trod the fine line

Between celebration and solace

Saw the selfie explode in its own menace)

I wiped a tear that stole its own path

Slapped my own face to wake my own heart

This blighted star hangs so futile

Amidst terror cruel law all the while

Waits Blinking a beacon of hope

And we have to wait too enlighten folk

But wait for what and wait for who

Hope springs in the heart of you

It’s you who fixes you who builds

You who paints and you who guilds

You can make believe and propagate lies

Or feel the truth see with own eyes

There’s absolutely only one truth

To make a better place starts with you

Pull out your heart and hold it up high

Use its rhythm to move the star from dangerous sky

Spin your tales rewrite the law

Show your children what it is all for

Stand stand stand

The ground is yours now

Take no more milk from their sacred cow

Open your mouth drink in the rain

From high from sky from heaven again

Shout in the face of the despot who dares

Belittle your truth stamp on your cares

Throw off your shackles

There’s no prisoners here

Just the jail made from lies divisions and fear

There’s no ballot box that controls your heart

Take back compassion

March on from the start

The Giants who stood who knew what to do

Had hope in their hearts and holes in their shoes

The once insignificant voiceless few

Felt rage in those hearts but knew what to do

Because rage can be love Set on fire

And rage can be care whose purpose is higher

Take back your lives and hold out your hands

Your people need you

when hope flies

Humanity lands

copyright EMcGinty 2015