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Sunday 16th June2019

" Today is Trinity Sunday "..so once said Winston Churchill during an epic war time speech...Today is the 52nd Anniversary of the Monterey International Pop Festival it is also in England..a dad's dad's Fathers day....which means i am home alone with a few hours to roll away the stone...hum the song Jimmy Jimmy from the recent Undertones concert i attended and wonder where 63 years have rolled away too. thinking on Mott The Hoople
I Treated myself yesterday to a copy of James Holland's new book Normandy 44....and i hope my generation is the last one on these shores to be buried by books on the two great wars it's not so we should forget those brave men and women but we do seem to live and eat it still, some people blame the yes vote to crawl out of Europe on such writings, but are we not indiviuals with our own thoughts 17m people could not possibly think the same or is Orwells Animal Farm and 1984 already amongst our pillows at night. I am sure other waves brought about such a vote....
On a better note i still luv to pick up CD'S...The feel touch that wonderment sitting on the bus ride home amongst the shite discarded by those whom think mother earth is a simple trash can whom all should wallow in, the roll of empty drinks cans spinning down the bus on each bend fish and chip wrappers the tinge of vinegar hanging in the mist of air gather along the floor. And we all sit in it stare out of the window and think WTF...
Masks..the itch to let ones coat tumble to the floor on reaching home, rip off the plastic coating and insert for that orgasmic musical note which pings around the room...chinks into my sanity in bliss...the conversation with the long haired man behind the counter at the record store induced me to pick up a new Tangerine Dream CD....remastered from 1979...when i thought i was still a mere youth...On my own soft foot fall around the mass of music on offer perhaps a life time to hear each note wrapped in plastic and perhaps a thank you for the internet as CD prices have tumbled so much these past few years fill your boots is a term to think on....Del Shannon has melted a big soft spot for me for a long time Hats off to Larry curls around my mind perhaps it reminds me of the 60's childhood when we kids seemed to have so much freedom to roam the streets which seems so unbeliveable these sad days and lastly Bod Dylan and Pete Seeger double CD....certainly where have all the flowers gone as the English Summer has not quite woken up...Time i think to work my way towards the kitchen cook and spin some music open some bubbles and think..love and peace to all whom pass this way, So Goeth.....

Sunday 9th June 2019.

The weekend slips away darkness is creeping in, the soft violin of thought is tangled in thoughts about the coming week ahead. As usual for June rain is forecast each day.Pull up the collar shrug face the rain and move onwards something will appear around the corner even if it is a monster in a purple dress, thank goodness i don't think i have one that colour. This weekend i'll give a thumbs up i coasted through on half a step the shit strewn across the public bus has not made me sink into depths of WTF.
The mature juciy crone on the supermarket till..made me feel as if my mother should have been the same without the juniper berry's..rolling around her mind,one should not dwell to deeply on the past i was born not through my own faullt.
This coming Sunday is Fathers Day this side of the pond, Oranges are not the only fruit, with the promise of a new day. Whom ever passes this way have a good week ahead..x

Friday 7th June 2019.

The weekend peers through the open curtains, dawn rises, the news of heavy rain on the way is neatly brushed aside, shall i take my rain coat or simply let nature trip and fart through the day perhaps the rain drops just might miss me and there is always hope to shelter in amongst the bus stop on the way home tonight. More to the point this extra early rise from the pit of dreams means i can sit and have a pot of tea and watch those whom still venture into town markets the way their bodies tell stories....I still keep a snail journal, carry it as if a cross around my neck, as if a sort of comfort hot water bottle we had as kids back in the days before central heating came to England that sense of warmth in teddy bears and warm chocolate sneaked in bed with you....The owner of the tea shop last week asked me if i was a writer..as my journal was open on the small steel table one of those with three legs but really four you know what i mean...i smiled and we chatted about being a Postman instead....Today i shall ponder perhaps become greedy as the concert season becomes tangled with tribute bands..up and coming is a excellent sex pistols band...a good Bowie band and shall i go right back in time be extra greedy and plum for a Doors band....my tiny hippy self thinks almost yes...
Time to greet the day thus wishing all whom pass this way a good weekend ahead and as always luv and peace to all whom pass this way. So Goeth...

Wednesday 5th June 2019.

Shall i try to make it three posts in a row..am i going mad..has the word summer caused this machine to throw out a few hicups or simply my old bones shivering in the nights darkness throws out a bunch of old keys whispering open them doors and climb out and up into the sunlight after all Summer has begun even if the rain drops howl down the green leaves cascade across the tarmac to dance in open arms with wild flowers whom the local council have not sprayed to death rather than employ gardeners.
Am i well, or perhaps comfortable, as i trundle towards my 64th year of walking on the planet trying each day to avoid the dark monsters whom reach out with a wide smiles grasping towards one in a tu tu dress only fit for sea snails...perhaps i need a day at the beach or simply a long train ride to sit dreaming through the window on things that perhaps should have been at the bottom of a lucky bag but have some how become drenched in the falling rain slipping through the sodden paper bag to float away down the gutters of life.
Last night whilst walking home i found ten pence on the road side in my youth that would have been two shillings and thus would have bought me eight lucky bags...alas today ten pence buys one nothing which is why they drift along the road side abandoned by owners whom have no time to gather change nor can be spent  via an mobile phone app..these coins also live in post boxes mainly the ones outside sweet shops come post offices discarded by those whom don't feel the need for holes in their tight jeans....however i picked up that ten pence with a glee if only for the memories held in my hand for mere seconds of time past..when life did indeed seam to be life.
Time i think to move through the day in reality...and fingers crossed these few words post...So goeth...

Wednesday 5th June 2019.

Arrrhh...a post does this mean all Gremlins have gone home after a night of horrors or have i stummbled across something....ooo...So Goeth...

Wednesday 5th June 2019.

The pink face has struck again..WTF....does...." Must provide entry text "..when i press the post to bichoose button and thus all my scribbles are lost into outer space..... ......mean in plain English..for this Old wrinkled stocking....heavy sighs So goeth.......

Monday 3rd June 2019.

Will it or will it not let me post...Is it me or are there ghosts in the house and was that not R Dean Taylor.

Sunday 19th May 2019.

A flock of seagulls..Wishing....rolled in a ball of the Earls i belive...how long since i heard canned heat on the road again....time is indeed a bitch in the bucket of a box of chocolate frogs...my i-pod has wrecked my soul today...god bless it....So Goeth...

Sunday 12th May 2019.

Once more i try in vain to post an entry in the old way..having just scribbled a lenghty post only to see if fade away with some pink line above my entry with a unhappy smiley face and a clue that is above my head.....sometimes new tecno stuff is crap...however not to blight last night fingers crossed this works...So Goeth...

Thursday 9th May 2019.

This is simply a test to see if this scribble works as one or two hicups are fleeting foot across my blank white page this week as i have scribbled a blog and it has failed to picture...is it simply because i do not want to try the new post editor...perhaps..So Goeth....