Friday, 20 November 2009

Twilight on the Moon (1985 An improvisation)

The fortress was broken
And our lives saw the light
When we all found our Masters
And life sublime
We went on
We went on
Oh we went on

The fortress was fallen
And we became what we did after
Father Time
Father Time
Father Time we call you

It went on and on and on and on and on
On and on and on and on and on
On and on and on and on and on
All together
On and on and on and on and on
It went on and on and on

Coping with the Runs in Mexico Blues (1983)

Woke up this morning
Was walking down the street
Traces of vomit over my feet
I'm so sick man, couldn't take my eats
So damn lonely I couldn't stand the heat

Later that bad day I took a trip
Someone spiked my drink
With some darn 'lips'
And when I woke up I was sick
So smashed man that I needed a kip

And by the evening I'd had my fill
Lunch had been not a thrill
Thousands of gallons of pigswill
Felt so bad and pukey
That I took some pills

By three in the morning
Things were getting dire
My whole body was on fire
Seems I'm always burning burning burning
Like a funeral pyre
It was so damn hot in there
That I got the piles

Breakfast time once more
It was bangers and mash
I finished the barbs that give you a bash
Head was spinning going round
I crashed out onto ground
I was so down man
Freedom hadn't been found

Round dinner time again
The bacon pan sizzled
Lost so much blood
My liver was frizzled
And now I'm an angel
Died of the whistles
Looked in the pan again
The meat was grizzled

Crazy Mandy (1985)

If you have flown too far from the nest
If they got you under sedation
Come rest in here come meet your fears
Come meet some human relation
And we will wait and say the words
That cool you like a breeze
Becoming part of the clothes that you wear
Becoming whole it's easy

It's all in the plan Crazy Mandy
It's all as it should be
It's all in the winds of change my love
And it weighs out like sand

Add two and two it's all you need do
You already have done that
No sign on the line everything's fine
Everyone's here from the start
And to take a bet and jape and jest
Is all you might have done
This matters not because what you have got
Is very much more than that

It's all in the plan...

Silently she has to wait
In the long halls of stone
Red drops the blood
From her finger to the floor
Will she know?
Will her children grow?
Will she hear?
Is she near?
Watch her glow
Mind-fire glow
She is seeking

Mandy a bird of some sort she soared
High above civilization
And looking down she gulped and frown
Says "This is not my inclination
To bank and shop the streets and follow
All these rules I see
Something else must I do
Or am I really being me?"

It's all in the plan...

Don't let it pass you by (1983)

Don't get the blues, go slow mamma
Just let them pass you by
It's happening, it's happening
Don't let those blues fool ya mamma
Just let them pass you by
That's what they're there for
That's what they're there for
Open up your heart and let it all flow
Because you know sometimes you just got to let it all go
All those times spent in your brain
Was only there to compensate
'Cos all the time the way was waiting
You just have to grab a hold
Of the way, of the way
The sway, yes today
What is today is never tomorrow
And who is gone may only follow
Take hold of my hand till the morning comes
New age come before you wake up
When you wake up
When you wake

Johnny Wake Up (1983)

Johnny wake up and go to school
You'll be late and made a fool
Some day soon you'll be a big towering man
You can walk all over this aching town

The others used to say it would be all right
If we all put our feet into the grave

Get your books or get your gun
I don't mind which, it's either one
Taught to be strangled, beauty obscured
Difficult natures are not preferred

And what we gained was what we thought we'd lost
And who came after were beyond the cost
Saints and sinners, lovers and friends
When shall we be back together again?

And what we gained was what we thought we'd lost
And who came after were beyond the cost
Saints and sinners, lovers and friends
When shall we be back together again?

Young Light (1983)

When I'm close to you like this
What is it that I miss?
Always takes so many years
Meanwhile your conscience sneers
To be always here
Always here

Silver dust is in your hair
You can become aware
You can tell a sunset by the way she moves her eyes
You can't catch the wind but you sure can try
You can try

Young Light
Young Light
You will always be turned on for me
Young Light
I hear you calling me
You will always be turned on for us

The Dark, the Ring, the Knowledge (1985)

How can you tell if it's friend or if it's foe?
You can never be sure in the dark
Reminding you of horrors read on someone's older knee
Keep you tucked well in your sheets
A crack of light from out the sky
The door swings to and fro
Middle of night and what a fright
A figure moving slow

Yes this is a world full of portals and windows
We don't know what lies beyond
Stuck in a room you'll play a sick tune
If you don't breathe the air outside
Should you but one day walk on out
See what you can find
The darkness is a friend you know
Though it seems to make us blind

It's been a long time since I took a walk
With you by the stream
So if you like we'll go down there
And talk of where we've been
Lying in the water clear
I found an ancient ring
Gave it to you I felt I ought
I'm sure you've worn that one before

Then you spoke to me about the fear
That lies hidden in the dark
You want to know just what to do
As if I held some clue
Look within yourself my love
Within will rule without
But while you're chasing phantoms round
Make sure you give 'em something to laugh about

You told me about a month on
You woke in the dark of night
A man was there in your room all right
You shuddered but it seemed all right
He took hold of the ring
That was lying there on the desk
And said" Oh child you're one of us
But you must just wait a while"

And so we talked about this for a while
How she coped with her mind
She seems so much better now
She faced the fear as it came to her
She understands the ways and means
Of fear of the unknown
She found the way to all our hearts
Is the way to her own

Thanksgivings (1985)

Have you ever been out in the cold light of dawn
And been left floundering?
I have tried in my time to get next to you
I was like a freight train
It was like a hurricane
All trussed up and wondering which way to go
Which way do I go from here?

Thanksgiving time

The mind at large that lives in us
Oh how it is so patient
There comes a time when it broadens
And we see what we have done
And we gasp to see how sore it is
So picked and distant
What is more is it is ourselves our bodies
But the healing comes shining through

Thanksgiving time

Round the year the seasons change
People die or get older
Sometimes I have felt a yearning to be nearer
Oh, that I am
Nearer to nature's bosom
Nearer to my my true friends and family
There's so much I owe them
Thanksgiving time

Thanksgiving time

Thanksgiving time


I didn't know Humpty Dumpty was a cannon on a wall
Or why it was Jack and Jill had such a dreadful fall
What was the Red Queen up to shouting "Off with their heads"
For this had all been sung to me whilst in my nursery bed

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the Kings Horses and all the Kings Men
Couldn't put Humpty together again

Then all the jelly babies and candy coloured words
Came out of spots upon the backs of little lady birds
And all of us pretended that they were not cluster bombs
But as we sang a bell it rang and we knew something was wrong

The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown
The Lion beat the Unicorn all over town
Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown
Some gave them plum cake and drummed them out of town

Now the war is over we have uneasy peace
And all the little children sleep uneasy sleep
With lullabies and nursery rhymes to keep us safe at night
For heavens and for goodness' sake we must not give them fright

Mary Mary quite contrary how does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockleshells and pretty maids all in a row
Here comes a candle to light you to bed
Here comes a chopper to chop off your head

I am but a poor boy
Spending time when I can
By the banks of a lake where I come
To get away from all the others
Who think me rather strange
But I don't mind
I come here often
And when people are unkind

I'm a Superboy
I got atomic toys
I'm going crazy

I make a noise
I can annoy
But you won't phase me

I'm coming to you through the mirror
Are you getting a little glimmer

I got the time
To unwind
I am becoming

I'm on the line
Another kind
My motors running

But I got nowhere to go today
And the visions I see
They do dismay

I saw a world where
We could share
Inside this world where
We don't care
A world full of vacant stares
Don't tell me there's nothing there
Don't tell me there's nothing here

I know it's as real as you feel
I know it's not a bum deal
It's something that can be revealed
I know it has to be real
I know it must be real

Hansel and Gretel
In a gingerbread house
With gobstopper servants
And a sherbet mouse

Little Red Riding Hood
Old Mother Goose
Oranges and Lemons
All on the loose

Watch out! Beware!
There are Monsters hiding there

The Owl and the Pussycat
Little Bo Peep
Cat's in the cradle
Counting sheep

Ring o' ring a roses
London Bridge is falling down
Give me criss cross Lollipop
Let's get out this town!

Watch out! beware!
There are people hiding there

Watch out! Beware!
There are children hiding there

Won't you listen to my story
Won't you listen to my story
Won't you listen to my story

Won't you listen to my story
There's a man in the crowd
Who don't know his own name
And if you listen to my story
You'll find he ain't proud
Of his social game
He sees his life unfold
Like the moon in a pool
And if you listen to my story
You'll find which is which
And who is the fool

My life is very small
But I don't mind
I can stretch to the end of the bed
It's a new horizon
I feel OK
When I breathe deeply
And if you meet me
I would love to say hello
It keeps me going
To know there are others

I'm a regular man
I laugh when I can
I'm not crazy

Childhood's gone
Ever so long
My memory's hazy

In the playground we used to play games
Until the bell brought us back again

On two buckle my shoe
Jack and Jill ran up the hill
Baa baa black sheep have you any wool?
Three four knock at my door
I saw Esau sitting on a see-saw
She sells seashells on the seashore
Five six pick up sticks
Jack be nimble Jack be quick
Half a pound of tuppenny rice
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie
Pop goes the weasel a pocket full of rye
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Seven eight lay them straight
It's raining it's pouring the old man's snoring
I'm a little teapot short and stout
Incy wincy spider climbing up the spout
Nine ten big fat hen
With a nick nack paddy whack give a dog a bone
She lays eggs for gentlemen
Eleven twelve dig and delve
Hey diddle diddle the cat and the fiddle
There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile
Thirteen fourteen maids a courting
Higgeldy piggeldy my black hen
All the Kings horses and all the Kings men
Fifteen sixteen maids in the kitchen
Simple Simon met a pieman
The mouse ran up the clock
Seventeen eighteen maids in waiting
The Queen of Hearts made some tarts all on a summer's day
Nineteen twenty my plate's empty
Cackle cackle Mother Goose
Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross

Rock-a-by baby on the tree top
When the bough bends the cradle will rock
When the bough bends the cradle will fall
Down will come cradle baby and all

Hang on my darling
Hang on my darling
Hang on my darling
It's nearly time to go

With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes

Thursday, 19 November 2009

Wear a Feather in your Hat (1985)

Well we came across some Indians they were sitting in our road
And with careful words we offered peace and them our weapons showed
They made it and said they sought a man with such purple skin
If we had him there on board they'd scalp and do us in
It's a long time since I saw such a man I said and they replied
"OK go on you tell the truth I can see it in your eyes"

Later on our road there was a boulder in our path
Meg the man said "What shall we do no way can we get past"
I steamed a bit and thought a bit, said this man tells the truth
So I gave up being leader and sat down to pick my tooth
Meg took on the role and quickly had it sussed
With forty pounds of dynamite the rock we did bust

Soon the cook was heard to cry "There is no more water left in here.
I am making a casserole and the pot is burning dry"
So I threw a coin into the air, said "This one I'll try" A few words from the good old book and rain fell from the sky
"What was the other choice you had" they asked, and I replied:
"I don't want to answer that now, let me out I want to pass"

Faintly nightfall does it's bit and we rattle on in dark
Tootsie starts a singing he says "It's for a lark"
Unfortunate for him it wakes something to cause his demise
A stowaway that was on board who pokes his head outside
Tootsie gets a fright and falls down and dies
But what was more was still to come. At night, colour lies

Of the four of us left on the bus, Mook, Meg, Mos and I
Not one of us did realise till the sun it did rise
That the new man who spent the night explaining who he was and where he'd been
Had a case of the most purple skin we'd ever seen
We whistled nervously till mid afternoon
Then Meg saw a bunch of Redskins, I feel down in a swoon

Round about that time an eagle flies on down
Says "We got to wrap it up here before we reach the next town"
So he does a bit of act shifting, messes round with our scene
The Indians become a film projection on a Hollywood film screen
"What a pity they had to go like that, we could have made some friends"
Purple man smiles, disappears and leaves a feather where he'd been


last time:

(Why are we) Fighting in Afghanistan?

I don't pretend to know much about 'just what's going on'
But have a burning feeling so I wrote it down in song
What is plain to see is that we are in a war
But what I do not get is what we are there for
I guess you could brand it all as conspiracy theories
But I simply want to know what the truth is

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

I don't want to dis the soldiers they have enough on their plate
But just what is the reason will someone please relate
Is it Osama Bin Laden hiding in a cave?
Threatening our shopping malls in messages he gave
But are we sure it was the Taliban that did the 9/11 show?
Come on now somebody, I really want to know

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

Talk is of a pipeline to run oil through Afganistan
A conspiratorial theorum that is not hard to understand
As oil can make you rich and some people like that
If you control the oil fields then you are a Top Cat
But politicians deny this it is made so clear
Soldiers fight to let us keep on shopping without fear

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

Or is it that we want lots of poppy and the herb?
Some people would want me to eat my words
Heroin and hashish are often traded for arms
It couldn't be our government would want to cause us harm
But the flower on your lapel is red with people's blood
And that flower is opium which is traded here in floods

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

The cause of our regrets they call the Terrorist threat
This is something we are told never to forget
But do you remember what clear Hans Blik said?
Weapons of Mass Destruction were not in Saddam's shed
The Axis of Evil it covers a large cache
Of different coloured people we're told we have to blast

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

It's a threat to democracy from several other lands
A largely Muslim people, mountains and lots of sand
Terrorists everywhere who hate whites to the core
And want to start up a Jihad Holy War
Koran against the Bible oh no not again
We burn all the bridges and bomb them like rain

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

It's like the Crusaders in the times Medieval
Who went out to overthrow the Saracen infidel
In Jerusalem in Palestine and through the Levantine
Looks like it's going on still in these times
We didn't learn our lesson we couldn't win it then
They know one thing and that is how to fight us to a man

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

Could it be the immense revenue that made out of wars
Especially ones that stretch out and never seem to pause
But roll and roll till the cities are quite flat
Truly the arms trade can rake it in with that
But that is not the reason that was said on the TV
Does terrorism wool our eyes and cause us not to see?

Politician, politician please tell me if you can
Why are we fighting in Afghanistan?

Is this some stupid theory I have voices in my head
That tell me not to think that but to think this instead
And why did we go in there and why are we there now?
All our soldiers are dying it is too much to allow
None of it seems right I think I smell a rat
Alistair and Tony, can you answer that?

Politician, politician I don't believe you can
Tell me why we are fighting in Afghanistan.

Set the Marks (1985)

Just a little bit over the mark
Just a little bit in time
Whole pillar of people all frozen in slime
And you know all they need is some comfort
You know all they need is a hand to guide
Of course we're all listening so intent now
It makes the world go round

We all got out around summertime again
Julie says to me "I'll give you three points for style
One for the other, two for the same, five for remainder
Six if your with me and as Androcles said
Don't you ever offend her"

And back in school we jumped the gates and moved on again
Teacher bid us begone with banners grey and pale
If only he knew the problem
He'd probably go grow roses instead
What with his beard and his anthems
We'd be better off red instead

Just for a joke for a bit of a poke we lit up the moon
Showered silver fishes on New York City from a paper spoon
Man-Trout says "Can anyone here remember what we are doing here?"
Set out the marks tell the winner she's won, speed on Tuesday
Will he won't he December?

Jack Cade

Ol' Jack Cade was a revolution man
In 1450 he made his stand
Wars of the Roses bled the country dry
The common people made a cry
Saying "Fie opon your taxes King Henry
Fie opon your lawyers and your ministry
You lost us France and have got debts
To hell with your bribery and favorites"

The King went to Warwickshire to take refuge
The people to Southwark in revolution mood
Five thousand rebels all came up through Kent
To take their grievance to the government
It wasn't just the peasant but Lord and Magnate too
They made a manifesto demanding what was due
Saying that the King is not above the Law
But that the Law is what he's put there for

They paused at the London Boundary stone
Which Cade he then struck with his sword
This by tradition made him Lord Mayor
He said he was related to the Mortimers
Then they all marched over London Bridge
To the Guildhall then the Tower their demands to give
They captured and beheaded the Lord Treasurer
Displayed his head on a spike with several others

Then Cade and some rebels had a looting spree
Which he had often said was not going to be
Officials gathered forces down at the Bridge
To stop them in their riot of violent rage
Bloodshed lasted there all through the next day
Insurgents taking heavy casualties
Till Archbishop and Chancellor Lord John Kemp
Persuaded Jack Cade to make it end

Promises were made to grant demands in full
Official pardons were given round as well
Yet very soon many were made to die
Cade was killed and quartered on the Twelfth of July
Does this history a moral tell?
That violence breeds the same very well
Remember now that these were brutal times
And today does seem to work on similar lines

Thursday, 10 September 2009

The Other One '89

Monday, 7 September 2009

Common Law :John Harris

Saturday, 5 September 2009

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Thursday, 3 September 2009

The Good ol Grateful Dead

Thursday, 27 August 2009


Wednesday, 29 July 2009

Monday, 27 July 2009

Mrs Grath by the Boss

Monday, 20 July 2009

Rock and Roll Prophesy is a blast from the primordeal
soup of it's idiom.

It's bludgeoning guitars, bass and drums,
layered vocals, flute and searing keyboards
lambast the senses with harsh yet melodic
rock music that supports the sharp, cynicism free
notion of a twenty first century free from war.

Nurtured in the peace loving belly of the late great Dave Goodman's
Mandala Studios circa 2000/2001, RRP is an direct excitation of that studio's
motto, 'music can help save the world.'

The album was finally ready for presentation to the world on the very morning of the fateful 11th of September 2001, yet didn't
have much promotional power behind it, even though it obviously appeared on time in the zeitgeist with it's bid to out-myth the dawning New Age of Terror.

It opens sonically with the equivilant of what it might feel like having an electric kipper slapped in your face as 'Voices of a Future'
adroitly and poignantly sets the theme from the future: 'Visions and Voices of a better world' As if speaking out bravely might help the situation? I listened further.
There follows a string of songs enlarging on the proposed paradigm, with a patchwork
of ideas as fanciful as they seem implausable, yet which, knowing Pok's sometime associations with a blend of the more colourful end of protest, indigeonous modern tribal lifestyles and so-called 'value creating' buddhism, stem from formative culture.
Such ditties as the 'Freaks shall inherit the Earth' offer a stark but humorous, even positive take on post apocalyptic vistas of reality as he obviously sees it, secure in the hands of the present day misfits.
If it is at all unclear exactly how Voices from a Future will aid the world at large in shirking war, Pok has provided a calm centre-piece where is enshrined the naive edict that
'We can put an end to War today'
Fine stuff I must say. And how is this this to be achieved? The song offers yet more:
'An End to War is made of will
Change the action change the language'
There you have it. Encapsulated. In a nut -shell. Thanks Pok, we can all relax now.

Riddle presents an angry rant-ilicious rap of a sort that at at length and by modifying licks from Neil Young, takes you behind the official presentations to the poisoned social malaise and offers hard won nuggets of relief and hope in reward for your attendance at the sermon.
Twice the album soars of into what must be termed spacerock. The first, complete with obligatory 'rebirth' nativity narrative for planet earth, clocks in at a 9 minutes 43 seconds and is called Born of Stars. The second, a compact 2mins 48 seconds of a space voyage is called 'Finale (When we were young.)'They are both intense 'white knuckle rides' through evolution, so take some protein pills and put your helmet on.
Other stand-out tracks are 'The Scorpion and the Tomato' a cautionary tale of the scientists working during the infancy of modern genetic research, warning of potentially horrific outcomes following the escape of random genes into the biosphere.
Sounding like banshees with chainsaws, the most boisterous cut has to be 'People are making a Change' which rattles and rolls, sounds like death metal but has pro-active lyrics that sound like they are coming through a loud-hailer. Dude?
The requiem 'I hold the candle near' closes the album at a less frantic pace, with a sort of prayer, earlier fires still smoldering and the new meme, a message, perhaps less common even a few years ago, burned into your circuitry.

Friday, 3 July 2009

Wearyall Hill

Up on Wearyall Hill at the House of the Unicorn
From where Barley and I trapsed to the Thorn
At sunset of a balmy day
When all the spirits were in array
I played the tune and we touched on
Matters that beacme revealed and shone
With a strange incandescent torch
That could not be proven though it scorched
Our inner trackways with new steps
And by which ways we were surely streched
As I looked opon the lengrends of old
From Glastonbury that are still being told
Though relics have gone through ages folded
Upon one another and our minds moulded
With another tale that that which was real
Centuries ago.
We try to peel back the millenia, layered as we are
With misconceptions that can jar
The clever intellect will not have it so
But may concede to have a go
And real between the lines of fable
To see if it is possible to be able
To have some fun in archetype
Where it is possible that we might
Find our Grail within and without
And maybe whisper, speak even SHOUT!
That it is to be found in this holy ground
That Blake supposed had been graced by feet
Of He who Christians hope to meet when they die
Jesus that is, son of Mother Mary dear
And nephew to Joseph of Arimathea
From across the sea he brought the Marmore Hawthorn
That flowers in the same season that Christ was born
This he planted on Wearyall Hill
And there and around it's descendents blossom still
As one to the Queen is took each year
That it bring her good yuletide cheer
He brought the cruets of Christ's blood and water
To place them on a British altar
He mined the tin organised the men
And the sea trade from Rome and back again
Yet most significant
Most magnificent and poignant
Was that vase that cup that chalice
That man might not gain through malice
It was Parcival that decent knight
And Galahad who nay did fight
But knew the question to ask
That would fulfill their quest, their task
To seek and find the Holy Grail
And so restore a circle failed
And falling possibly to ruin
Because of what wrong thinking people were doing
It was the sacred womb of the Goddess
Ceredwin's cauldren beyond cost
No prize of the ancient world
Could more significance have held
But names as well as tin had begun to trade
For the coming way of Christ in the Piscean Age
A pagan artefact would not do
They needed something new
And by and by paraphenalia
From the time of Christ's crucifixion
Became the new benediction
And Joseph brought some to Glastonbury
Where he set up the first Christian ministry
With the 'Ealde Chirche' that Bligh Bond saw
In vision where made of wattle and daub
Twelve round wooded huts were stockaded in a ring
A larger round hut centering
This site in the Abbey grounds is now St Mary's Chapel
And if your discerning mind can grapple
With diviners and psychic mediums
That possess an architectural disposition
And as to whether their visions are real or false gold
Then maybe the Blakean vision will unfold
And the hidden landscape be shown
It's illuminated pathways of the Ancients glow
In patterned lattice work of lines
Sacred diamonds and other angles of
Design inclined like crazy jackstraws alive
Pulsing with scintillating serpent power
Surging through the landscape
Veiled in the land's shape
Lighting up the Thorn on Wearyall
Subtly drawing attention to it all
Tantalizing my sense of what this all could be
Knowing the story is just a but silly
But loving the mind that wished it
So I went to the Thorn and I kissed it
Then the time slipped and I surely saw
A Phoenician ship pull up on the shore
That wasn't there a moment before
Up the sides of the hill the sea had come
And covered the levels leaving Islands
And marsh and no roads of tarmac to be seen
The Morlands Industrial site was drowned beneath the scene
So from this ship that had pulled on
Came several shrouded gentle men
And ladies meek and holy seeming
As if from some place a light was gleaming
Some Britons were already waiting on the hill
And greeted the newcomers with much goodwill
As if they knew each other from before
Travellers who had returned from afar
Then the source of light it was revealed
From within a cloak no longer concealed
The Holy Grail, the supper cup
From the last time Christ did sup
With these twelve acolytes stood also here
And by now it should all be clear
That this is Joseph of Arimathea
He who held the status of Nobilius Decurian in Rome
A procurer of Tin Copper and Lead for Rome
And leading member of the Sanhedrin ruling council
In Jerusalem
He could take the body of Jesus from his tomb
He was his uncle after all
Joseph was a disciple of Christ and wealthy merchant in the tin trade
Which is why to Albion he had made his way
Time and again, once with Jesus on board
The Druids and they were of one accord
In spirit, as was the way in ancient days
Though perhaps then they knew that the times would change
Certainly when Joseph came back again
Old stories were being rearranged
The Romans had seen to that
But had no nack for creative thought
And anyway had to win hearts and minds
So renamed Gods and Goddesses after their own similar kind
-Already nicked from the Greeks
It's easy to see what the conquering mind seeks
It's not philosophic integrity but social control
With violence and the words to make you feel at home
So far from home they had to make it their own
And brought their own villas, plants and household things
Replaced the roundhouse and introduced plumbing
Ripping of the culture of Albion's own
Renamed and ruled over
But with space for the conquered to know some luxury
New standards of living to help coax
Priviledges for those who accepted the yolk
Fought for or married into
Payed the calens tax, wore a toga
It was Roman takeover
Bit by bit
Devouring local culture and concreting it
With military stations for complete control
And mercenaries on the payroll
This was the time that the great Zodiac
Had moved one more notch on it's cosmic track
And turned from Aries to the Piscean Age
Which is where Joseph of A takes the stage
He appears at this tumultuous time
Direct of Jesus's bloodline
And as holy men had done before
Brought holy word to our shore
But to the Romans and their Empire
He was an immensly important man
A wealthy Jewish merchant sailing with the Phoenicians
The responsibility of organising tin mining far overseas
Was one that Rome sorely needed for control
As a tax paying populace could not be secured by warfare alone
Contracts must have been drawn up by the Romans
Fleets of ships at Joseph's command
Whose negotiating skills got to Britons to work
Creating a relation that steadied the land
Joseph was essential to the sucess of the Roman masterplan
Though this format of workers and boss
Which makes me think of what Britons had lost
Early on then, whereopon later we did it abroad
When one thousand years on Europe became conquistadours
And strip mining has since excavated us
So much one might think it a curse
Two thousand years and counting and we're nearly a husk
Joseph was a foremost man of his time
Whose well meaning ways may well have led to Earth crime
Of corporate irresponsibility that has carved up the world
So that into a cataclysm we could be hurled
But he was caught in the grip of the age
Of insatiable violent rage
Of Empire and Religion perverse
What was it worth for better or for worse
Joseph was born in the crux of that time
Was of noble birth in Jesus's family line
Respected across the board and needed for his ability
Balancing the conquest by creating its new social/spiritual reality
A powerful man caught in a changing world
Forging as best he could
With his Caudeucious staff coiled
An integration of material and non-physical
He was moving with the times
Trading from Roman homeland
To far places with minerals you understand
Quite how they got that tin I'm not sure
Whether it caused any little wars
But Joseph was in with the Druids,
Like Arch druid Bran the Blessed
And King Aviragus of Wessex
Gave him and his disciples
Twelve hides of land, so say the texts
Which is wonderfully symbolic and also meant
That Joseph was really part of the establishment
He moved in circles of political influence
He also caused a spiritual conflunce
Ushering in the new age of the time
Though his pure message I think was undermined
Swayed by power and passage of years
Manipulation of people through fears
Pious highly driven men would later appear
And use their faith in a zealous career
Of evangelism combining state and religion
A recipe for cultural cataclysm
Saint Patrick I find to be ruthless severe
His was the kind of message I don't want to hear
Missionary conversion is a road to hell
The misery it causes I don't want to tell
But Joseph brought the Grail in attempt
To tell us in code what Christ's message meant
He was friends with the Druids and Holy Men here
In Albion, but with what he said he had to take care
I feel he was a bard and arbitrated well
Between different people on different levels
Bringing understanding between disparate men
So they could relate and remain
in spirit in the moving age
But it seems that Christdid it much the same
As twelve round huts and one large hut centering
Is the same symbolic numbering
As I understand from John Michell
Is a pagan numeric magic spell
Of change and turn of tide of time
-Look I am saying that they all had much the same rhymes
Across the seas
And held beliefs that
According to one's environs
Were the appropriate ones
To have
Christ's message must have been messed with
And in the crucible of corruption concieved
A tortured mind's poisoned concoction
Of false misleading lies
With a martyred man to idealise
Such genious device of mendacious minds
Carved it's will upon the world
And still we can see it's thrall
The Killer-Civilizer
But Christ himself and Joseph in his wake
Had the message we must take
Encrypted in the Grail he brought
From ancient times as Cauldron saught
Then converted to acceptable form
When a new religion was the norm
Introduced at Glastonbury
Where the spirit somehow still seems to be
And in Somerset one till recent would hear
"Sure as our Lord as at Priddy" or "Joseph was a Tin miner!"
Among the folk of the same area or town
As where this ancient stuff went down
I am writing this on my lap on the side of Wearyall Hill
Where the water would be lapping chill
In those days and most like to come
And so I think of Jerusalem
Of Joseph's traval and the One
He brought here in legend speak
With the same message of Grail to seek
Identified as the Body of Man
His Soul Temple, Buddha-Bodhi, Atman
The doughnut vortex torsion field of
Infinite and eternal energy
The correct way for our lives to be
Empowered through the Timeless Grail
Previously known in Pagan Tale

Sunday, 14 June 2009

The Druids

Nathan Lewis Williams: Mother of Mothers

Nathan Lewis Williams: Perpetual

Nathan Lewis Williams: Separate Her

Wednesday, 10 June 2009

Secrets of the Dolmen

I am a stag of seven tines and ox of seven fights
I am a wide flood opon the plain
I am a wind that is blowing on the waters
I am the teardrops of the sun, I glitter like dew
Who but I...etc

I am the Griffon flying to my nest upon the cliff
I am that which God made beautious
I am as much the oak as the lightning that strikes it
As I am the Druid making fire opon the hill

I made the spearmen fearless at the battle of the trees
I have been a salmon in the net
I have been a spotted serpent coiled among the rocks
I fled as a savage boar in a sacred grove

I am the terrifying crash of waves opon the sea
I return like the receeding tide
I am all of these things continual
I am a year of thirteen trees, a letter for each one


The words to this are an amalgumation attributed to Taliesin and Amergin
via Robert Graves {White Goddess, 'Song of Amergin' p.208) then edited and added to by me.

Friday, 29 May 2009

Whatever you are

Friday, 24 April 2009

The Druids

Yes there were Druids
Some of them Lords
Know that they governed
With Mystic wards

Warrior Menders
From before Roman towns
The Druids remembered
They passed wisdom down

A Thirteen moon calender
Well did they comprehend
Star cycle awareness
Was knowledge they retained

From studying long
What was to see
From earth into infinity

Long lingering in wooded temple's glade
Led to certain observations that they made
Direct from living in the thrall
Of forest, sky, existance all

They knew genetic lineage of who and how begun
They understood precession and the angle of the sun

So knew when solstice or equinox time it would arrive
They kept goidelic memory banks very much alive

With song and story
Of life's law and glory

Inspired I A O from Awen
Given freely from space to them

These were the mystics and their mysteries
Long before our Warlords and their histories

We know little of these folk
Though pre-Greek 'Deru' means 'Oak'

And 'Weid' is wisdom to see or have vision
Which got spliced into 'Druid', a modernism

From Sotion of Alexandria, 3rd Century BCE
When Druids were first mentioned in our history

We have only fragments of knowledge about their day
That their sort were here is most that we can say

Our schools may have mentioned barbarian hordes
I think there was plainly a whole lot more

To be said about these curious men
Perhaps we can pick up their trail again

With conjecture and research to be done
It's unfolding as ever into the next one

In our lives and our seasons
Climates of change with reasons

For bringing to light
What's suppressed in the dark.

So Druids!

By this device of words;
Be heard!

And so be known
Come once more into your own

(Blame Robert Graves for me
He started this craze, fortunatly)


Druids philosophised with ambassadors of distant lands
Linking up geometries overseas to far desert sands

Threading endless steppe to mountain range
Through marshy fen and grassy plaines

With a mathematics of a matching art
Showing us we are all a part

Of a continuum on creation marked
By Dragon Lode
Standing Stone
Ancestors Bone
Another known

And as the hawk is different to the dove
So they spoke war, peace, spirit or love

In proportion to the need there was
An Earth Mother their creed it was.

Speaking for all to hear
They had no mass media

But lasted long passing out
Life breath prayer by word of mouth.

Unwritten, known by all
Sounding forth from Tara Hall

And other Great Schools of Learning
That appeared as times were turning

To teach knowledge they felt worth the tell
The Beth-Luis-Nion tree Alpha-Beta to spell.

Ceremonial acts did mark
Winter, Summer, Light and Dark

Odin took runes from a tree
Bard, Ovate and Druidry

Three it is a holy trine
Oak and Ash and Thorn sublime

Four times seasons turning round
Intoning of the holy sound

All round Europe did they live
Guiding law they had to give.

Then a King could not rule a life
Without first approval of a wife

A Queen would have to authorise
Before a King he could 'Arise'.

A bard might bring him down again
Their satires could destroy such men.

Druids councilled for the Land
With which they entwined we understand
A harmony, a thread to lace
Society with a living trace
Of language tutored by the trees
We can but guess at what they perceived.


Heard of human sacrifice?
This could be Caesar's artifice

Propaganda to hide
And justify a genocide.

Now bear in mind the length of time
Druids had been keeping up their rhymes

For why were placed the standing stones?
Is there something that we don't know?

I say for sacrifice they were not laid
Druids either by then in retrograde

Or Roman voices, all that remain
Have said it in a smear campaign


Consider our great temples
From the Megalithic ages
That line up like one Serpent
Who upon Earth's surface ranges
Through virtue of forgotten tribes
And their technicians
Who used a scheme
Of exact mathematical precision
For purposes we can not recall
I mean, why did they build them all?

Were these stones placed for the need
To ritually slaughter men and beast
All so their Gods could be appeased?

An established practice,
Hard on the Glorified One
But from history's hindsight
It is best not to come on
From an accustomed superior moral position

I just feel there was another condition
Of being in connection with the land
Access to energies theirin contained known to every man

I imagine understanding of the order of all things
Of living in a balance that life in balance brings

Conveyed through ritual theatre
At specific times in the festival year

To align with the cosmic core
All together held in awe

At ceremonies of sound
Where people gathered round

To actively activate the atoms of the sun
At Stonehenge and at Avebury where gathered everyone

At Callenish and Carnac
At Newgrange and Maes Howe

Enoch had the measurements
(We can still apply them now)

To latitudes where sunlight's splinter
Through apperture in stone chamber in winter

Catches light of Venus
Moving love between us

Channelled through stone marked ley
Energies dance, make their way

Enhanced by ritual of ranking druids
Who kept the spectacle running fluid

With mnemonic words to recieve the orb
And so with the people be absorbed

Timeless in a moment
Waking from the dormant

Self, all Selves to be
As one a short eternity

At conjunction fleet
Where true selves would meet

Charged by spheres distant
Illumined for the instant

With sun to stone and soul to spark
Of life woken at the meeting place.

Voices are telling of another time
Long did they speak and lo! They declined


Romans had come to run them rout
Cared not what they were all about

Yet Roman records are the reason
That any memory of them lives on.

Tiberious Caesar, Diodorus Siculus
Pomponious Mela, Cicero and Suetonious,

Were Roman writers of their age
Telling of conquests they had made.

For these missives please
Give allowance and read
Between the lines
For any hidden
State campaign design.

History written by the victors
May well be written with a twist,
Later ages cannot figure
What the real story is.

Led on by false description
To suit the best depiction

Of another hellbent autocracy
Imposing state control.

For a former new world order
That finished the ancient world.


Druid is an oft heard name
But no way were they all the same

From tribe to tribe no fixed abode
Different lands, one Mother Lode

Ten thousand years is all long gone
If we had but one snatch of song

From them it would reveal us much
Of a society of ceremony, such

Alas we can never know
But I am sure they put on quite some shows


The last stronghold of Druidry
At Mona, Anglesey was held
When General Paulinious Suetonious
Ordered to smash incorrigable Celts

Icenian Tribes were rising to the East
Did Colchester, St Albans and London breach

Boadiccea swore vengeange on Romans to take
For her flogging in public and her daughters' rape

Romans had renaged on a co-rule agreement
Wanted it all and had thrown out the will

Of Pratsutagus, Boadicea's late husband
The war cry she made meant them all ill

So severe was the heat of her rallying
It nearly sent the Romans skidallying

So much so
She nearly got them to go


Emperor Nero was near
To leaving the province
Of his conquest there
He wasn't convinced

Boudicca's defeat
At Watling Street
Was to mark a red turn
That made it complete

This secured central Roman rule
And their job was very near done
Smash native culture!
Do over the Druids!

These were the times AD 61


Knowing druidic rites were in full swing
Suetonious chose the rite of spring

To march an army to Mona's sacred shore
And make a fest of blood and gore

The massacre saw many die
But it raised one awesome cry

The few that remained fought well
And soon of their end I shall duly tell:


This rhyme I have realised
May well be idealised
Druids were another damn ruling class

Yet listen a bit closer
I'll give them their most yeah?
They performed many vital social tasks

As well as regulators of custom
And law

Their arbitrating jaws
Stopped many a war

As respected most high
From every side

They came between foe
To stand in the breach

And parley for truce.
They often brought peace.

They did all the rites
For marriage and death

In ceremonies the cycles
Of life expressed

They were the living memory
Of the tribes

They held it all
In their many-roomed minds

Metempsychosis or
They took on as true

To Pythagorus it is said
A latter influence is due.

But Druids had been round many a long age
Who knows from what heights they had decayed,

For we read from a thoroughly modern view
And a modern standard through and through.

What went on back there?
Interestingly, a few do care

What can we say for Druids?
I say they were human dudes
They also had a hierarchy
And power struggles too

There must have been corruption
I speak no golden age
Yet their's a time when sublime connection
Had been all the rage.


The legionaires were frightened
As they stood upon the beach
With women dashing through their ranks
And gnashing of their teeth

With flaming sticks
Brandished in their hands
Like dread-haired banshees
Death dancing on the sand

Fearless warrior-men, too few
Viewed the Roman lines
Waiting to engage in battle
Surely just one last time

Druids raised up arms to pour
Improcations on all Roman war

The die was cast, the moment near
Curses made, they held no fear

But scanned about with aweful eyes
Like some creatures jeopardised

At first the troops froze at the sight
But General Paulinious rallied them outright

'Quail not at frenzied females,
You are the Emperor's men
Raise your standards strike hard now
Don't be disquieted by their row'

So they smote Druidic resistance that day
The modern world is what they made
So much ended then that's gone for good
Roman ambition invariably would

Engulf that which it could not contain
Turning it to romanised homogeny, hegemony all the same

Though tribes fought amongst themselves
All roads to Rome was a pagan death knell

Changing of their calendar
Would never Druids please

Paying tax to Caesar
Neither did agree

Romans banned round houses
Replaced them with the villa
Civilization was their game
These most efficient killers

They wrapped the sacred forest fortress
In a red shroud of flames
Who can now remember their names

Caught in their nuptuals
At height of ritual

Sneeked up on from behind
And plundered at will

Though last defence they bravely made
It wasn't enough to save their day

Routed through Europe to this Westerly Island
Here it was that the Druids had made their last stand.

At Anglesey the Druids were dead
Into the sea their memory bled

Monday, 5 January 2009

Pok by Klover