SHE SLEEPS SILENTLY

She sleeps silently while the wind rushes

fast and silent across the sea

She sleeps on, eyelash on cheek,

I don’t think she dreams of me

I gave her a kiss and left her there

Never to see her again

But when I left only I said goodbye

silently she slept on

There wasn’t a fight or parting of ways

or sneaking out in the night or break of the day

There were many tears though I left her

to run

away from the fact she’d already gone,

And she sleeps silently despite all she gave

all while I weep mightily

by her grave

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At Peace



When will we be 

At peace

With ourselves

With the layers in our bodies 

that repel

Against each other

The cancers that eat and the 

Inflammation that takes hold

Or the sadness that debilitates us

And all of those things 

We carry unending war in our DNA

The gene for this 

The gene for that

Like battle campaigns 

We walk the earth

Minds screaming to ourselves to cope

Our cries 

Sirens of warning

Our depths

Silence

Of aftermath

And we grieve

For ourselves and others

Ones we make 

and 

who we make miserable

Whether we knew them or not

And so

The world follows suit

And we are at war

Inside and out



Where are all the saintsThey should be marching in

Are they in Hoxton drinking all the gin?
Where is their conviction to right the wrongs

Surely not a fiction we sang all the songs?

Why is their armour rusted and worn

Bits mismatched some lost and gone
Turned their faces, heartsick of us

We’d rather a lifestyle than stand, make a fuss

To be the vehicle to dishearten a saint

Makes of us a race of taint
So this after all was our original sin

Blamed on a woman, serpents grin

our inability to stand to defend the weak

Our backbone jelly voices won’t speak
Will we ever connect to a higher plane

Within or without us all one and the same

Children play in gutters of fear

Patterns in the sky ashen tears
We want saints on demand

a credit card to buy a conscience

We want those who were burned 

For belief to take our presence
Life, sham and drudgery have made broken dreams

A society from a sweatshop poorly riven seams

A cleverness we espouse to leave superstition behind

embarrassed to take the fight of the kind
Contemplate our horror over a glass of fizz

Contemplate the fact none of us exist

Whilst we allow ourselves to be grass fed herds

The saints are on strike until we find the right words
Until we find that we will stand strong

Stop dictation, right our wrongs

Until we take our responsibility set fire to our cares

The saints are on strike not marching anywhere
And the angels won’t act as scabs in our war

Humanity it is time we got our arses in gear

Be cynical be wry be all sorts of clever 

Can’t blame religion if we fuck up forever 
It is all down to us now

It is not a roll of the dice

Our humanity resides 

On our ability to be nice

The Fiery Bird & Loud Women

Thursday 25 August 2016 I was joined on the Fiery Bird Show (listen again here) by Cassie Fox founder of Loud Women,promoters of women led music in London ahead of the Loud Women festival taking place at TChances on Sat 3rd September.

I had come across Loud Women at the start of the year as, always interested in what is going on and let’s face it like many, having a look at where my band can get gigs, I saw some postings on Facebook. A refreshing out-there relief articulating the frustrations of many.

Where many women had been working away at balancing the gender bias in music for some time and though connected up were chipping away alone at the brick wall of misogyny, this was new, arriving at a time when many promoters, festival organisers and venues were realising that they needed to face the fact that the issue about under representation of women wasn’t going away and it made commercial sense to jump on the bandwagon and put on a token band albeit usually further down the line up. These new younger female promoters and bands were also taking up the torch and starting to walk the path made by women doing it before in an albeit more underground way tackling, unsupported the established attitudes and setting the scene for a new breed to take the next step. With this torch lit by those before they chose, rather than just use it to cast light on inequality to make it burn a new, more visible, path. In light of society’s returning to values and challenges that we thought we wouldn’t see again when cuts and frustrations spiral down, there’s usually somewhere the buck stops, the person holding the baby and trying to fill out the tax credits form, prove they need legal aid and an equal salary, is a woman. 

That a platform needs to be there to give voice to the unique challenges people face in these uncertain times is how music changes societies and so is not only to celebrate the creative output of 50% of the population and a platform for younger musicians to hone their craft, be a bit shit and make the mistakes that are an accepted part and parcel of a musical journey, but to keep equality on the agenda. It is not a radical notion that the idea of the wet behind the ears, swaggering musician whose ego outstrips talent but with guidance can be shown how to really express themselves is generally seen as a male silhouette in all the best cliches. We too, as females house those little gits and more power to them for they will be the ones we can clip round the ear and send out as fully fledged women musicians ready to play their stuff just as all the old svengalis did to all the new young male bloods they believed in but who were on the road to crash and burn if not nurtured and if not, let’s face it, told they had a lot of work to do but never that the work wasn’t theirs to access, theirs to own and shape and make a new culture from. What they call the svengalis and mentors we can be and are, if that makes us witches to be burnt then there is nothing like rising again, and again.
We have seen this in our beginner open mic sessions at the Phoenix Centre and I know the work musicians in DIY projects such as Hannah White from the SoundLounge,  Catherine Williams from Blue Trouser Records and Emma Hughes have done with increasing the confidence and giving platforms to young women. Additionally in our WIMOD (Women in Music Organisation & Direction) meetings which cover every age there is a context at which people know they are supported, can ask questions and make an arse of themselves and THE WORLD WON’T END.
So now it is great to see promoters like Loud Women run by Cassie & Who Run The World run by Beth White casting a swathe across London and welcome Cassie Fox as a guest to the Fiery Bird Show where she explained the origins of LoudWomen, her own bands and projects and the bands playing the Loud Women Festival on 3 Sept 2016 tickets can be obtained from loudwomen.org

Here is the playlist

Female of the Species – Space – a phrase often used to warn of the femme fatale and yet it comes from the female that is deadly when her young are threatened as guardians of the future, I’d say that was pretty fair 

Mansplaining – The Wimmin’s Institute Cassie’s band with an anthem dedicated to the proponents of mansplaining – telling a woman how to do something they already know

Respect Aretha Franklin – top vocalist and top song nothing more to add

DIY – Dream Nails – a band playing Loud Women festival, they had their first ever gig with Loud Women at the beginning and less than a year later headlined the sisterhood stage at Glastonbury

Silence – Claudia Stark a local songwriter, Claudia is able to take an issue, global or personal and expose her intentions in crystal clear lyrics. The beautiful vocal and what initially appears to be introspective lyric will often take you by surprise with the steel inside the velvet

Sexuality – Billy Bragg a song I always wanted to cover when playing the school PTA BBQ’s 

In These Shoes? – Kirsty MacColl a lyrical genius, MacColl was a treasure of a musician that was taken too soon, her articulation, vocal ability and compassionate wit enriched whatever project she worked on 

The Boat That I Row – Lulu the song was used in the film soundtrack for Made In Dagenham which illustrated the work that women machinists did for equal pay and often in conflict with the male members of their own Union.

Oh Bondage UP YOURS – X Ray Spex I promised the station manager to play it after 9pm – and I did and you can’t have a show about women in music and not include Polystyrene well you might but I didn’t want to so if you don’t like it – UP YOURS!! 🙂 personally I find inequality for anyone more offensive than mild swearing but each to their own

Control – Desperate Journalists an indie band playing Loud Women festival reminiscent of Siousxie in sound with a daffodil slapping by Morrissey in the mix- liked this very much and hope to hear more from them 

Only Time Will Tell – Making Time – led by Fay Hallam still gigging now and playing at 100 club on 14 October supported by the Len Price 3, a respected musician who has kept an innovative career going illustrating that making music as creative rather than celebrity chasing endeavour has its rewards in a critically acclaimed body of work and loyal following

Waterloo Sunset – The Kinks – After the war Waterloo Bridge was rebuilt by women who were written out of history but whose story was kept alive by the lighter men on the Thames. The bridge of steel we may walk over as we leave Waterloo on our adventures in the big city was rebuilt by women – this song was played for JuliaK, Catherine Williams and all the women who were on board to play the Ladies Bridge gig and all the women who have been working in the background for many years giving other women a helping hand

Cover Up – The Ethical Debating Society playing the Loud Women Fest. Energetic post punk.

Carry Go Bring Come – The Selector – they speak of Jezebels causing misery from home to home, many of us feel this way but then you meet a real one and realise the difference between Jezebel and the Angel. 

The Green & Red of Mayo – The Saw Drs – normally I’m in Mayo, Eire at this time of the year, this song goes on in the hire car as we leave Knock airport and I look in the rear view mirror to see the kids pretending to shoot themselves in the head as soon as they realise that the saw Drs have hit the decks again. This song for all my cousins uncles aunts and everyone I didn’t get to see this year because of empty pockets and big bills. It also mentions Grainneuaile pirate queen of the west who made Queen Elizabeth 1 accept her as an equal queen. Her clan was from Clare Island where she had a stronghold and what is left of a look out on Achill Island. A fiery woman indeed.

LinkedIn by Foxcunt (don’t worry I didn’t say the name on Radio) playing the Loud Women Festival 3 Sept

Free World – Kirsty MacColl – this woman has sadly been dead a few years now but these words, also sadly could be now, if anyone knows anyone now who can write songs like this let me know

I thought of you when they closed down the school

And the hospital too

Did they think that you were better?

They were wrong

You had so many friends

They all left you in the end

‘Cause they couldn’t take the patter
And I’ll see you baby when the clans rise again

Women and men united by a struggle

Going down

You’ve got to walk into the water

With your sister and your daughter

In this free world
If I wore your shades could I share your point of view?

Could I make you feel better?

Paint a picture, write a letter?

Well I know what you’re saying

But I see the things you do

And it’s much too dangerous

To get closer to you

But I will see you baby when the clans rise again

Women and men united by the struggle

Going down

With a pocketful of plastic

Like a dollar on elastic

In this free world
I wouldn’t tell you if I didn’t care

I’ll see you baby when the clans rise again

Women and men united by the struggle

And the ghettoes are full of Mercedes Benz

And you’d never hurt a friend

Who wouldn’t tell you
It’s cold and it’s going to get colder

You may not get much older

You’re much too scared of living

And to die is a reliable exit

So you push it and you test it

With Thunderbird and Rivin*
I’ll see you baby when the clans rise again

Women and men united by the struggle

In this free world baby

Got to take it got to grab it

Got to get it up and shag it

In this free world

Going down
You’ve got to get into the water

Like a lamb goes to the slaughter

In this free world baby

Going down

With a pocketful of plastic

Like a dollar on elastic

In this free world

I wouldn’t tell you if I didn’t care

Strangeness 

It’s almost midnight on 22 June which leads, inevitably to the 23 June. Normally this date is noted because Andy & Megan two friends of mine have birthdays on this date, I remember because they had cupcakes on the stage at the Bedford one year when we went to see Megan play with Dan, another friend (music not hide and seek or doctors and nurses that would be weird – they’re friends but like young enough to be my own children-ish or no, like I am a very young auntie, really young Aunty) They are in a great band I usually use this opportunity to put the band name in and encourage people to listen in a kind of ‘look at me linking, I am so clever in a subliminal advertising way, I am shit hot at social media’. Can’t be arsed to be clever, the band is Dan Shears & The Velveteen Orkestra…. Listen to them – D’oh for fucks sake I can’t help it!!

This time, 23rd June is a date we have been waiting for,  for what seems like ages. Now football fans know how I feel when the World Cup or Eurotrash or whatever it is called is on. An interminable grind that affects everyone’s life and conversation and social life, seemingly never ending like a long winter of rain and fog and summer of the same. This EU referendum debate, is actually taking place at the same time as Euro whatever and all anyone can do for relief is watch YouTube videos of Irish fans from the Irish Post, serenading nuns,poking money into cars and singing ballads whilst holding a can and remarkably remaining in tune like a massive emerald eistefodd. I do have to admit to an inner Mammy experience when a good looking young fella pops up and wonder if he is from near our family for my single daughter and how much land he has. We, second generation fifty something,  unfashionably Irish, before we were all friends and people knew about St Patrick’s Day; were brought up on the John Wayne/Maureen O Hara outlook instilled by our parents to keep us ‘good’ whilst our cousins in Mayo were bowling about the roads in minibuses travelling to clubs til 3am at the age of 16. Bashed into our psyche was a 1950’s upbringing that was transferred to East London and Surrey and I feel ripped off age 50. Note to self John Lydon and Shane McGowan obviously copped on a lot earlier than you.

I like that people have an opinion, I rather an opinion even if not one I agree with. I am worried though that in some, these opinions are based on lies. That worries me a lot. There are lies damn lies and statistics and they seem interchangeable. The ready quote of giving money to EU to the tune of £350m per week has been discredited so many times and yet still people quote it even after being given the correct figures. The worst advocates for working people are telling them to leave and they are quoting them despite hating them last week and everything they stand for. The man that made up the fact he didn’t get treatment on the NHS at the weekend once is saying the EU wants to dismantle the NHS. The man who only months ago made positive noises about the EU is taking back his words in what appears to be an incredible cosmic cruel joke of a  domestic, in-party, leadership challenge that he has dragged us all into. This ‘bad relationship/bad divorce’ analogy I have seen people bandy about on our relationship with the EU seems a more appropriate comparison applied to the Cameron/Johnson relationship where we are all being used as collateral by a bitter abusive spouse who wants to undermine the other by virtue of appearing nicer to the outside world and more fun…

The fact that people are blaming  the EU in lazy memes for the sale of British Rail, The Post Office, BT, British Airways is an anachronism in itself – these were all sold, yes while we were in the EU but, by our domestic government to foreign companies, so therefore reinforcing the fact that this Govt has sovereignty and does trade well. It sold our assets abroad.

The fact that people say we’re over regulated because 60% of our laws are made by the EU and the figure is closer to 12% and these are laws that have protected the rights of people being encouraged to vote out.

The fact that many of the regulations quoted are non existent and to be honest, even if they were and remember that this is a blog, an opinion piece and my right to state my priorities whilst accepting others have their own, I am actually more concerned to prioritise workers rights, maternity and paternity leave, pesticide control etc than a straight banana (not true btw) Also those  who want to leave talking about over regulation feel that the worst parts in previous manifestos were things like maternity rights and that breastfeeding in public should be banned – how are these people with these opinions champions of freedom?

While I am on the subject of freedom and autonomy –  why was it down to the EU to channel money back into our country to help support rural economies and in Eire promote the language and culture of the country? A language that had largely died in the main because of it being illegal to speak it for so many years. How ironic that the EU is called a killer of national identity by Britain

There is, of course the other issues of what our grandfathers fought for. Obviously mine were not here but in a neutral country in the Second World War. People quote what their grandfathers fought for, it was freedom, I understand, and against persecution of one race or religion and they fought with allies and we have kept a peace in a unified way. The disturbing thing is that the terrorist who committed the 7/7 bombings and was captured days later in Europe and deported back to stand trial could have got away with it otherwise like in the good old days of Costa Del Crime. That when we take our children on holiday to Eurocamp and the eejits don’t wear sandals and cut their feet and get infected you hold out your EH11 card and get free treatment. That you don’t wait for visas and at borders if you want to holiday in France over to Spain or Germany. School trips are easily arranged and young people learn more (the ones that weren’t able to vote about their future) Touring musicians and artists can easily share culture.

It is also an insult for one group to claim exclusive rights to knowing what their grandparents fought for when they came back from the war, elected a government that started the NHS, and brought to bear a more liberal generation of forward thinking world citizens. I think that they knew a lot more about peace and unity than any of these soapbox warriors who have indeed never fought and many of whom even had grandparents whose fights on the beaches were against the Mod or the Rocker they despised in the 1960’s not 20 years earlier .

I have worked with EU money, I have, lucky me, been a beneficiary because it has helped me run projects for communities in need. I have seen how regulated it is that every single penny spent is accounted for or you can’t claim it back – perhaps the EU should oversee our MP’s expenses- and I have seen when it has been there when govt policy has gone to cut off the most vulnerable and at risk in society who still need help, whose bones haven’t knitted back together or leg regrown, after a six week course, or brains cleared the fog of losing a person they cared for for years now passed on and making them ‘fit for work’ in their raw grief. I’ve seen when we used our quota and the govt money here is axed and it is me sitting on the other side of the Job Centre desk.

I’ve sat on meetings where people talk about the money available if they share skills and innovation across areas and across countries and I have been at conferences where the creative industries leaders have proudly announced they have been commissioned by Shang hai to deliver a programme to enliven their night time cultural economy, already dealing with China from within the EU

Switzerland is quoted as a great example of a country outside the EU who benefits. It still pays in to get those trade agreements but has no place at the table and no decision making rights. People there, where possible (I have relatives there) drive across the border to France, Germany, Italy to shop because it is so expensive, the cost of living is so expensive. Healthcare is expensive.

If we are not in the EU the border then moves and Calais moves to Dover, the camps and the people that we need to support, this is a common EU goal at the moment. 

People vote for low taxation here, they get a government that promises low taxation and that affects how many GPs there are. It affects your meals on wheels for elderly relatives it has an affect. It is not caused by Romanians or Hungarians or French people or whoever using our services, if these people weren’t here doing that annoying thing of contributing more to the GDP than they take out then the cuts would be even worse. 

And finally, Great Britain, putting the Great back in? So going back to when we were described as part of France – Brittany Bretagne and us, Grand Bretagne. Big Brittany. That is where it is from, I hate to burst the bubble but it is nothing to do with being Billy Big Bollocks on any world stage but an misinterpretation of what the moniker ‘great’ means. Like in the old days where ‘fear ‘ meant respect and sadly now, hate. Like the other words we have incorporated from our rich multicultural and fluid relationships with the world – sterling (French) fish n chips (French dish thought to be of Jewish origin) khaki, shampoo, bungalow, nurse (Urdu) gob, session, shenanigans (Irish) etc etc. 

People want to go back to the good old days, but apart from the fact no one wants diphtheria, polio, and outside loos the issue of stampeding into countries appropriating resources and stamping out culture is so last year and accusing a body of being unelected and ‘out of order’ and doing that is kind of ironic really.

Talking of unelected, we elect MEP’s they sit on the committees that make these decisions just as the domestic ones do.

I think everyone is entitled to make a decision on their own opinion but it worries me that people are saying I hate politics and I never vote but I want our sovereign nation and I want our own laws and I don’t want to give that much money and I think immigration should be controlled so because these things are making me unhappy now I am using this vote to vote against the current status when not one of those things is true.  The issues people are using as against reasons aren’t even on the table -if they were I could understand it but they aren’t. 

There is also the other thing. None of them have a proposal for what is happening afterwards. The only proposal seen is a meme about Churchill opting for the open sea rather than Europe. Ok an analogy but what the feck does it mean? What is the open sea in this debate? Us on our own doing what? Churchill oft quoted as the greatest ever prime minister – greatest wartime perhaps but builder after war? It wasn’t Churchill that built the country back up post war – the welfare state would have been an anathema to this ancient family of feudal lords.  Be careful that in sticking your fingers up to the EU in a long drawn out ‘battle reenactment of Agincourt’ like those blokes in pubs are always keen to point out the facts of the V sign, that the other hand isn’t constantly touching a greasy forelock to our real enemy –   the class system endemic here that has you waiting in line in the foodbank because another patriot in an ancient building as part of their ancient right has sanctioned your benefits and your steel works were sold off – remember – it was the EU that tried to get a deal on that to keep it here, not the government.

Whatever people do,   Whatever is said, the only ones who have had no say are the very ones it affects most, the 16 and 17 year olds and younger. Try not, you older generation, with cast iron pensions and no mortgages, free universities and a peaceful life,  to pull up the ladder after you. Your grandparents didn’t just fight for you, and if they did it was to give the chance for you to be grandparents and look out for your young ones too. Really, this is their vote. Ask them what they want. 

No More Heroes?

I go through the names at every visit, to give them back their name being spoken on the wind again, albeit in a language different from their mothers voices. After all this and all they did there are still some that can’t see past what the name means, the clue it gives of how they give thanks in their life for something they looked for out of it, the clue that a mother and father bestowed it as a blessing on a child they expected to outlive them.

The same people who use those very fallen ‘our boys’ as an excuse to never look outside the longitude and latitudes of their own lands to help, cannot comprehend that others did one time, before they were born, looked out from there, to help here and didn’t even get buried at home, but a small square has been given to them. Now, all that is there is the name, amongst running water and a sapling each standing to attention and watching, that can bend with the weather when they never could.

The one word they never use is irony, it is only short but very heavily loaded. It seems that for some the grave does not level us all, that a warrior grave that usually elevates should not be given to all, no matter how noble, selfless and honourable their sacrifice to protect other people’s families with no gain for them. Other people’s families who generations down, spew on stories that ‘This is England’ and say ‘Lest We Forget’ for a few days in November, but then do forget if the hero is not the right colour or religion to be gained entrance into their mawkish lip service. Maybe they should be made to wait and watch over those dead to see that after all, the bones are the same colour and fit together the same way and the heart is in the same hollow and the arsehole has all disappeared apart from the one regarding.

The casualties of war, are they those who die a noble death or those who 100 years later can still not let go of hate?

And you who worship your God of fire
Do you think he knows your deep desire
Is proud of the bile you spout
Your views uncovered spilling out

No you’re not racist but
There’s just a little part
That can’t keep the hate out
That ferments in your heart

And you do it in the name of your God

Where is it written that your DNA
Is the only one that is ok?
Who gave you a license to supremacy
When you bleed the same as me
And them
And breathe
And scare
And flounder
And drown
You would you know
Let’s hope you never do know

Let’s just hope that you turn the pages of your book
To the verse and chapter that says take a look
At the person beside you mother or son
Same look in the eye and same moon and same sun

Same pain and loss and joy at birth
Same chance to do good on this earth
Same compassion that weeps and arms that can hold
To turn off the hate let the guns go cold

And here, like people who did their best
Attached your colours to their chest
Fought so you had freedom to state
I’m not racist, but,
Oh

What did they waste?

It Used To Be Called Love

I think that one day, what we call good will be the norm

Actually, I think it is the norm

And I wish for only good for those good people and enlightenment for those who harm

And what harm is there in that?

Next week, we will ponder an appropriate day to change our profiles back

And we will get on with the business of living, unhindered

Which is just as it should be, we know people will mourn as we would, and as we will for our own tragedies

maybe just as senseless, maybe brave or maybe the natural shuffle off the natural coil of life

All the people, all the time we are aware of how fragile life is

And all the parents will clutch a phone and wonder how their adult children can’t realise they need to know they are ok

Such a crime, these days it’s called being needy, unnecessary

It used to be called love