If they didn’t have incubators in 61 If mammy hadn’t chased the nuns If Oswald couldn’t fire a gun Mail lai might never burn If Ferdinand wasn’t vain No anzac slaughter Or those black dogs If Hitler got a serious wound in the first Would crystal nacht no happen No secret pacts in Warsaw The Zionists now deny Showers would just wash Ovens just bake bread No Jewish dead Olive trees in Palestine still If my trike was never nicked If I took that knife to school If joan never punched a lassie in the face If I never threw that stone That scared your upper lip If uncle Charlie hadn’t died Or Cousin tottie didn’t stumble No winter of discontent No vote of no confidence Would Thatcher close the mines Simon Weston wouldn’t suffer On the Gallahad Lockerbie just a place Yvonne Fletcher just a granny No job in microfilm John Lennon never shot Would they make another album No headteacher Agnes Allen Who worked in Bletchley park And smoked those small cigars No sneaking Matt McGinn Or Connolly’s last supper No miss Geig I miss her still Mice and Men, Orwell or Joseph Heller Hamlet no wild mountain thyme No Dave Hayman’s lady Macbeth No teenage angst No acne Betamax would still be here No Maxwell stealing pensions And floating in the sea No BCCI scandal The bank of crooks and criminals No black monday 1987 And the £150 billion loss The public counts the cost Never again they said No boom and bust! From those we trust But they never shut the gate It happened again in Asia 97 Russia 98 Again for us in blighty in year of 08! If I never killed the hamster If my knee didnt snap Could we now cure cancer? The sun never spread its poison The gates unlocked in Hillsborough Zebrugge never sink Millie Dowler just teen Who gets to live her dreams No jihadi mad men Highjacking a religion If hadn’t crashed my metro My next car not get nicked?! Would I have to suffer cats Return to the forbidden planet Or Tim burton’s sweeney Todd! If I never read Tressell Would the north sea have more cod Me a six pack bod would cubism still seem odd? If I never joined the entrists Sold the paper Got the t shirt Would David Kelly never die They call it suicide There might be no halbjah gassing That Thatcher would deny Her duplicity No super gun Farzhad barzoff Betrayed by u.k interests No Michael tighe! No campaign against Stalker If stayed out of the Scotia Would that helicopter not have fell On the Clutha bar Mcgarrigle not be gone Survivors carry scars Of that fateful night That haunts me still If hadn’t tied up paddy Stuck him in wardrobe Threw away the key Would my parents still be with me And never gotten Ill Roul might have resisted that wee urge To kill If I never tasted chocolate Didn’t lose my hair Was nicer to my knees Would the world no be In crisis With covid number nineteen And the death of bees If I said those prayers to jesus Like my youthful self had done Would it stop a dunblane madman Killing school kids with his gun? If I hadn’t drunk the poitìn On that new years night Would we not be swimming in a sewage Of poison and Alt right If I hadn’t kicked in that front door Would you still be there Lying on that fetid floor Starving and abused No one to take your hand Free you from despair I didn’t want to be that guy But thank god that I was there If I hadn’t spoken to you My life would never change I never took your number All those moments I would miss The happy and the sad ones If we had never kissed I’m looking back beyond this now These moments shape me Too many to detect Many scars and Joy’s reflect
In the moseleum of my memories Dark Dank Still My fears sit upon my chest As they always will A cobweb in the corner A dusty window sill Screams ring in my ears Like a dentist drill The creaking of the floorboards Crawling of my flesh A lump bulges in my throat There is no rest here Like the hunger of the homeless I see the wounds of jesus Watch them as they bleed The writhing of the butterfly In a spider’s web The dripping of candle wax On the coffins of the dead Something deep inside me Whispers in my head Saltwater in the lungs Of a baby refugee lying on the shingle Where’s humanity? Its floating out of reach Like the twisted neck of a dead rat Broken in a trap Killed for the want of crumbs The shadow of some old coat Resting in a chair I feel the reapers ice cold hands Wrapped around my neck The mist of breath I can see On a winter’s dawn Cold deep inside The marrow of my bones A call received Informs me someone died Knowing that I’ll never see again The beauty of your smile Life shining in your eyes Another piece lost In my jigsaw puzzle life A razor cut in the flesh Bee stings for a while Becomes one more sigh escaping My lips In the bed of my bad dreams I see the covid deaths Counted now in reams As politicians flounder But rob the public purse Never stemmed the tide The situations worse Please help me wake Just you touch my hand Free me from a night That never ends Kiss my cold cheek And whisper soft Should i wake up with a start Know this that I love you still For Gothic is your heart.
image : Bright colours only written and performed by Pauline Goldsmith with a little help from me!.
Lets see how this goes?? I’ve been and am still fumbling around trying to post a selection work some of it previously published by Dr. Jim Feguson and Bobby Christie so here goes .. may the gods of WordPress be with me!
Well i bgan life in the city of Glasgow, kinning park to be precise and began creatively writing at a young age but hid my poetic musings from my parent’s because they didn’t meet many poet’s in kinning park… for many years i was in the closet about writing as there appeared no avenue for expressing or publicising work….until i got a job as a civil servant i was outed by a workmate? Who became a great friend to this day…. this “Outing!” Lead to me doing a bit of stand up becoming an actor/writer in proffesional theatre and fiim which in turn lead to directing.
Today i support other creatives in writing and film as well as still trying to put my own thoughts down in a poetic form
I live in Edinburgh with my wife and “Darcy” the cat who is the Lady Gaga of cats!
Ive been lucky to have met many wonderful creative people who directly and indirectly helped me develop “this is a life long journey ” some of these great individuals will pop up in my froth coming blogs and poetry writing in all its forms is a living thing it is an expression of our lives as we live them.
I don’t know where it came from? But when i began to look at lateral ideas to help that person we all meet..you know the one who says
” Want to write but dont think i have the imagination!” I try to draw an image in their head I would say to them “Think of butterfly! Its your butterfly its colours are yours, its shape,its form how it moves, Now!! think of a bus stop!…what elements connect or have commonality in your head?” “Tell me what your thinking, don’t worry this isn’t a quiz so that i might find your darkest secrets…take your time”
“Remember the answers you come up are yours alone and there may even more than one answer all I’ve posed is a question.
Show me someone who tells you that “They know all the answers! ” as if life was some competion to collect knowledge/facts so that they might best the next person in the room! And like the internet that we now post on via the F and B we know how badly that goes on occasion! It’s old saying but has more penance now than ever im paraphrasing ” He who knows nothing is half as dangerous as he who’s little!” I wonder how many us have attempted to plug in an appliance wired by a family member or friend only to hear over your shoulder usually at the critical moment ” im not sure i wired it right” I find the F and B has become like that plug.
I have to be honest right from the beginning that i love the technological advances of the internet on the whole its fab! But with all its advances someone of humanity seems to be lagging behind because of the speed of change, the speed of reaction seems on ccasion to forget empathy and respect, one doesnt have call up Google to see a suicide created by online abuse created by false indignation of ” calling out” which most the time is based on a soundbite or little information or even worse twisted facts to suit a narrative in its intentions is to cause harm to reputations or worse still ading and abetting loss of life however distanced.