Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

The cameras shutter

The cameras shutter
Is a liquid sheet of stars
As it is moved
It reveal the face of mars

The cameras shutter
Is a buried door in a tower
Lifted up by the gate keeper
To reveal the universes true hour

The camera shutter
Has painted on it parts
The famous graffiti of Parisian walls
The flesh of broken hearts

The camera shutter
Is opened from inside
A vast herd of bison pours out
Into the ocean tide

The camera shutter
Opens into a giants room
I break inside
I find heavens long lost ruby moon

The cameras shutter
Realities guillotine
Many of the heads of physics
Float within it dream

Like a paired couple

Like a paired couple
The eagles fly
They are love and wisdom
In the sky

Reaching up
To touch their wings
You dance
You spin

You open up
Into the light of day
To let them carry
Your heart away

Above the plagues of earth
Above the folly of man

Song: Go into love

Go into song
Go into fire and water
Go into caves
Go into the graves of the solar system

Go into song
Go into the bellies of fishes
Go into elephants
Go into the wishes of finches

Go into song
Go into gondoliers
Go into the hammer and sickle
Go into grizzly bears

Go into song
Go into my love
Go into my lovers dreams
Go into my lovers heart

Go into love

This is a sibelius mp3 of the song
Go into loveDownload

This is a music sheet PDF of song

Love in unequal measure

relationships

Like my mothers companionship to my father
Will be my companionship be to my new little brother
I was born in the early years
I shared the poverty and homelessness of my parents

I went with them from place to place
Until finally they ended up here and made a stand
But they have forgotten about me
In the struggle to eat I had become a liability

When my little brother was born, he was their hope
He was a new beginning in a marriage assailed by troubles
I was neglected and I was out of love
My younger brother could change them and bring happiness

And I will welcome my new brother into the world
With genuine love and compassion


Here come my older brother again
I look upon him with contempt
He is the cause of all my fathers troubles
He is the cause of my mothers sorrows

He is not worthy of a fathers love
I will never be able to forgive him
I will never be able to be his brother
I believe he will be chased out and I will take his place

I feel my brother does not return my brotherly affection
He does not play games with me
He goes in a different direction to me
He has no time to learn about our past
He frowns at me with eyes full of hatred

I have lost my little brothers love
I have tried and failed as his older brother

My sons are split apart there seems to be resentment between them
It is my first-born’s fault
He pushes his younger brother around
No wonder he does not like him

I will tend to my new son
I will give him the more love in balance
I will pass onto him my future
And I will chase away my first born

I see the first born moping outside
It is as if he did not wish to know his family
For all the time I spent on him
I expected more, I expected more

I must try to do better if I can
I must re-establish myself in my fathers affection
I do not ask for more than I need
I have learnt to be independent

I have a part time job to bring in money
I try hard at school
Surely I can make them like me more
Surely I can be accepted

My older brother I trying hard to be accepted
He brings them money from his part time job
They talk about him in a fond way
There is a danger that I will be demoted

I will wait for him on the road
I will strike him from behind and kill him
With him gone so is the danger of becoming second best
With him gone my father will love me more

In answer to Hettie’s question about Birchfield House, why?

And the little garden was in contrast to the L shaped block of flats that was built in the 1900’s to cram as many of the local poor of poverty stricken Limehouse during the slum clearance into the small cramped rooms as possible.
But at least I could look out of the window to see a really nice garden planted about 25 years ago of fragrant shrubbery and tall bamboo.
But I woke up early this week to see it all dug up by a crew of road diggers.
And it was nice to look out of the kitchen window to see a Wren or a Robin or some other little bird attracted to the exotic plants which probably gave them a stopping off point on their journey across the surrounding busy roads
That are used by 100s of trucks every day from the channel ports with all the awful exhaust smoke and pollution therefrom.

Where I live on the ground floor with a squeezed in feeling with black mould on the bathroom wall and a damp musty smell in another room and ever since I moved in here 30 years ago I’ve had worsening respiratory problems that are probably going to shorten my life and walls so thin I can hear people talking in their sleep and you have to ask why???
Thank you for the question that no one else has ever asked before and that it’s been asked by someone who lives 1000s of miles away in Chicago and is a credit to you and a shame on this place.
Which was part of a co-operative until so upwardly mobile people started buying their flats from the council and turning them into even smaller units for students to live in so that they could make as much money as they can – out of the co-operative.
And I want you to know that you’re one of my favourite bloggers because you have not been afraid to ask difficult questions.
So I woke up one morning to find that the most beautiful thing about Birchfield House Co-operative has been ripped away.
And what is a co-operative. Is it where we are supposed to work together, shoulder to shoulder with a communist spirit? defending ourselves from the outside heading towards a bright new co-operative future. but self-interest has led to a corrupted co-operative and a pointless co-operative.
The whole concept has become a place of self-interest and corrupted ideals.
I’m good at writing things down and I can read aloud what I write down but when I go to any kind of meeting I tend to start thinking too much and when you think too much when you’re in a co-operative meeting dominated by selfish people don’t expect anyone to ask you what you’re thinking.
There’s an attitude these days that if there’s something you don’t like you can fix it regardless of the consequences and the government will support you.
The garden: I remember about ten years ago when everything was in bloom, lush and green and scented. Then it seemed to get a council gardener group who like to cut shapes out of the shrubs regardless of the blossom coming into bloom so that they stopped them coming into bloom and then obscene bare areas appeared beneath the shrubbery that was once covered by green leaves. And now this, want to resurface the car park area, – true or false; cut everything down and dig everything up and for what. More car parking space, more pollution in a heavily polluted area.
There are 24 flats in this block and nearly all of them have a car and some of them have two cars and the courtyard is too small for all of them.

Essington Park

and there was a policeman’s ghost in Birdcage walk
that followed me home along the railway track
of the disused railway line

and how did I cram all of the night
like a polyphene bag into my pocket

and what other disguises
does the dead policeman’s ghost have

when I was small I pecked like a bird
as I went and returned from school

at nothing really except grit
to fill my belly that as like jelly

I hated satchels full of homework
That I didn’t understand
And a school uniform
That was painfully too small

And like the angel in the book of Zechariah
Who explained the meaning of the vision

To little children playing in the park
Sliding on the slides and going round on the roundabouts
And not thinking of what kingdoms rise and fall

I talked and talked alone as the darkness grew
That seemed to grow over me like a blanket of sky sleep

Alone at night in the park a mile from home
Happier there than I’ve ever been anywhere

Lost in the mysterious disappearance of the sun
That diffuses and pops out and leaves evening in the park

So peaceful with the mothering trees
And the playground all to myself

Notes. Essington is just west of Mossley Estate across farmland, down country lanes etc. Mossley Estate is not mentioned by name on the map but is where it says Cranesbill Nursery. Broad Lane when I knew it was a lovely long and straight ancient tree covered country Lane that seemed to go on forever.

Someone would have you dead

Someone would have you dead
At any cost
They would destroy your family
Destroy all that you love
To get to you

And when you realize how evil
They can get
Don’t you feel as if your heart
Has risen into the rainclouds

There’s a highway of your sorrow
Trudging across the sky
wailing with grief
That you do not – even if you tried –
Prevent from proclaiming your broken heart

Oh those Mafioso, those greed sick flightless ostriches
Fattening their golden eggs on the misery of ordinary people
That thrive on hearts swollen with tears
Whose threats alone are worse than knives
And how you hurt to know
You have lost those you love
And soon
And soon
They are coming for you

And where Is the justice
They are justice
They are the justice of the land
The shadow behind the throne
The bloody blade left in the alleyway

They are the business behind governments
That destroy what was beautiful for gold teeth
Who scrape at the eyes that see
Who dig graves in the darkness
Where they can’t

And it starts a little like this
You lose a memory
Then you find it crucified on a hill

The smallpox hospital

life

The smallpox hospital
Derelict and like a ghost house
Stood like a whistling shell
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell

Like a little Alamo
Whitewashed with wind
Sullen in the square night
Until the sun dipped in

When the white sheeted beds
Were in a row in a small room
And the doctors of the day
Stood over the babes all smitten and blue

To rescue who they could
To nurse who they will
In the time between
Time and ghostly shadows

As children of a latter day
Walked by that way and asked
What is that place that stands
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell?

Like a collapsing house of cards
That seemed to whisper
Why am I left behind?
To be feared and frightened

The children on the way to school
Who whisper, that ‘s the ghost house
A ghost house real and true
And it reputation grew and grew

Who knows what’s buried there
Or why it a left to decay and die
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell
A mile outside the little town

The Virus

The grey light
Of January
Ruffle its feathers
And follows me
Like a virus

I run a little
I hurry along
I touch nothing
For I am not strong
Like the virus

I see the pigeons
Flocking
Flying in circle games
Around the sky
From roof to roof
They fly
Like the virus

Like a cloud
That darts about
From mouth to mouth
And fills the lungs
With stone
And isolates
And cuts off
And makes you its own

So that I shut down
The irrigation gate
To my soul
And I dam up
The pool
So that I cannot
Drink at all
Any virus

The breath of people
Like smoke from a cannon
That I avoid
As much as possible
Walking around
And around and around
Their deadly ammo

So I look
Slightly ahead
To the finishing post
Of the race
Through the war
And I join in the cry
Do not ignore
The virus

Oh it’s funny
Isn’t it
How we
Kill each other
With the virus