The DLR line

A journey on the DLR line from Poplar going east. It was a summery day and i tried to record the development going on along this stretch of the railway. Years and years ago Canary Wharf was built near me, since then it has been growing and growing. Canary Wharf Tower has the big corporations taking over the floors inside.

When it was being built i worked for a year in the canteen inside canary wharf tower when someone dropped a girder. As it fell clanging down the tower every one in the canteen raced for the door convinced it was going to land on top of them. Then it thankfully bounced off of a fixed girder away from the canteen and every one calmed down.

0327 leaving canary wharf0332 leaving blackwall0334 apartment blocks0336 a glimpse of the dome0340 leaving east india dock station0341 millenium dome and creek0345 apartment blocks and creek0346 covered bridge0356 pylon by track0357 red apartment block0362 unused land0363 factory and brown shed0364 view of dome from eastside0365 land clearing0366 cable cars0332 leaving blackwall

Monty Don’s Adriatic Coast

Monty begins in the city of Trieste, close to Italy’s border with Croatia, to visit a public garden first created by an obsessive royal plantsman more than 150 years ago, which is now being carefully restored. He then heads down the Adriatic coast through Croatia to pick up the trail that the Venetians followed, ending his journey on the beautiful island of Lopud, near Dubrovnik. Along the way, he discovers spectacular natural lakes and wildflowers, is given a tour of ancient olive groves, discovers a nursery where over 200 varieties of Iris – the national flower of Croatia – can be found, and is allowed into one of only two monastic gardens in the whole country.

Monty Don’s Adriatic Gardens – Friday 8pm on BBC2

I saw episode 2 with a national park, 600 year old trees, reclaimed land turned into wonderful gardens. Catch word was land equals food.

From On the Box website

As humanity settles down

As humanity settles down
To making cars

As humanity settles down
To building slaughter houses

As humanity settles down
To going out on Fridays

As humanity settles down
To street lights in the evening
As humanity settles down
To watching televisions

As humanity settles down
To trains in the distance

As humanity settles down
Into bedrooms in the winter

A little sprig of Geranium
Blossoms in a vase

I painted a picture

I painted a picture
Of the sky raining down blood
Now it’s in my mind

I painted a picture
Of people in love
Now it’s in my mind forever

Oh, what have I done?
The authorities say
You have painted a picture
That will never go away

People will laugh
People will say
Oh, what kind of picture
Did you paint today?

There’s the equivalent to hard labour

There’s the
To hard labour
In every country
It’s the standard
Of governments
To take away
Your freedom to learn

There’s an equivalent
To mind control
In every society
In the world
They don’t
Necessarily need
Cells to put you in
They can threaten you
They can make you afraid
In many different ways

There are those who are born to explore

There are those
born to explore
They run
Like solitary deer
Through a country of wolves

The wolves
Could be friendly
But they’re made that way
By the world
They live n

You don’t need
To experience
By society
Punishment is already
A studded collar
Worn by every one

The world and all its ways

The world
And all its ways
Turns your hair grey
It beats everyone
It starves everyone

Do you even notice
when you
have a beer
to your lips?
do you feel it?

you need warmth
they charge you
you need food
they charge you
you need wisdom
they take it away

get in line
get in step
follow your flag
to the end
of the end

Aurelius Borealis

there is a God who turns
the flames of the sun
into the Aurelius Borealis
over a land so full of miracles

it’s a blue suede shoes land
that puts up with extinction
that puts up with climate change
that fights wars in poor countries
that gives to industrialists
by taking away from nature

how long have they got?
What will be their fatal mistake?

The Aurelius Borealis
Is like a rainbow
It is like a sign
It Is like a promise
Of protection

The news on Sunday morning

  1. Big dry river

Big dry river
Big dry river
Big dry river
In Madagascar

Put your baby on the scales
See how much she weighs
Maybe gain an ounce or two
In a couple of days

He gave his 24 children
Another empty bowl
They crowded round the visitor
Trying to fill the hole

They stopped you on the wayside
Asking for some bills
The shepherds looked like stick men
Come down from the hills

See them in the river bed
Digging for their thirst
The great dried river bed
Is lonely now it hurts

  1. If death were a river

I’ve got death
Banging on my door
There’s nothing here
You see I’m so poor

I think of death
Not of suicide
Death comes much slower
There’s nowhere to hide

As I grow older
The worse it seems to get
If death were a river
I’d be up to my neck

If death were a river
I’d jump right in and drown
No more, anymore
It all just gets me down

  1. forgotten fruit

What a contrast to the news I see
In the lonely empty streets
The funerals behind closed doors
The dead ones trying to speak

The lady on the news again
Dressed in glamourous clothes
People in the food bank
Where she never goes

Peak time TV whitewash
Don’t let us know the truth
Keep it in the closet
Like forgotten fruit

The trackers have no faces
As they crawl about the web
To seek you out and bite you
Now their social structure
Like a wasp’s nest in a tree
Like a cancer full of stings

  1. They roast me on a spit

They roast me on a spit
But the flames are crying
The fire light blinds them
So they cannot see injustice

The devil sends them his photograph
They put it on their wall
How do you tell them it’s a lie?
When they dream of him each night


It’s an aching feeling, like a hernia
That I cannot put a name to
It consumes time, like a burning book
It’s a walk across a pebble beach

Love is like a slice of bacon
Its fat is burning, smoking like a chimney

Love is like a faceless chiming clock
A worthless body run over in the street

The false saints of Christendom
Are like bad screw drivers
Like rust that cover a dog

The policies of lies are driven
Into a pile up on the motorway
That’s how fear flies into a memory

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