Monday, 31 December 2018
pickitup
Link.. What a guy...
Already said I can't record here where I 'live' now so I'm
digging out lots of old stuff, this is the first song I ever
recorded at Runway Farm. Like any song/music it
evokes so many memories of people and places.
Lived and worked at Runway Farm from 2000,
where I started a whole new life, met so so many new
people, almost all of them thought I was 'OK' so
much so that even I began to believe in myself.
A few of these 'new' people I wouldn't want to
meet again, and a few I would love to see again,
but sadly they're gone from us.
I finally stopped living at Runway and bought
a flat..60a.. where I lived for a dozen years or so,
but hey, it's all gone, Runway Farm, 60a, my
work, my very identity, all gone. For seventeen
years I had some great days, even begun to
believe in myself , but I'm low on energy now,
not sure I can begin another new life......
but hey... you never know.
KRO
Sunday, 30 December 2018
Friday, 28 December 2018
Friday, 21 December 2018
Poem 16
The Walrus and the Carpenter............... Lewis Carroll
KRO
The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his best to make
The billows smooth and bright-
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done-
"It's very rude of him " she said
"To come and spoil the fun."
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead-
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
If this were only cleared away,
They said, it would be grand!
If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose, the Walrus said,
That they could get it clear?
I doubt it said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Oysters, come and walk with us"
The Walrus did beseech.
A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk
Along the briny beach:
"We cannot do with more than four
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Oyster looked at him
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head-
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed
Their shoes were clean and neat-
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more-
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come" the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes-and ships-and sealing wax-
Of cabbages-and kings-
And why the sea is boiling hot-
And whether pigs have wings."
But wait a bit, the Oysters cried
Before we have our chat:
For some of us are out of breath
And all of us are fat.
"No hurry" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
A loaf of bread, the Walrus said,
Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed-
Now if you're ready Oysters dear
We can begin to feed.
But not on us the Oysters cried
Turning a little blue.
After such kindness that would be
A dismal thing to do.
The night is fine the Walrus said,.
Do you admire the view?
It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!
The Carpenter said nothing but
Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf-
I've had to ask you twice.
It seems a shame the Walrus said,
To play them such a trick
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick.
The Carpenter said nothing but
This butter's spread to thick.
I weep for you the Walrus said
I deeply sympathize.
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
before his streaming eyes.
O Oysters said the Carpenter,
You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?
But answer came there none-
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
And you are very nice!
The Carpenter said nothing but
Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf-
I've had to ask you twice.
It seems a shame the Walrus said,
To play them such a trick
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick.
The Carpenter said nothing but
This butter's spread to thick.
I weep for you the Walrus said
I deeply sympathize.
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
before his streaming eyes.
O Oysters said the Carpenter,
You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?
But answer came there none-
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
KRO
Sunday, 16 December 2018
Wednesday, 5 December 2018
Poem 15........ fleet foxes....drops in the river
Crown of leaves high in the window on a cold morning
Young today, old as a railroad tomorrow
Days are just drops in the river to be lost always
Only you, only you, you know.
Years ago birds of a feather would arrive nightly
Gone you know, held to another like clutched ivy
On the shore, speak to the ocean and receive silence
Only you, only you, you know.
You hesitate, so my memory's fade I'll hold to the first one
I wouldn't turn to another you say, on the long night we've made
Let it go.
Only you, only you, you know
Only you, only you, you know
You hesitate, so my memory's fade, I'll hold to the first one
I wouldn't turn to another you say, on the long night we've made
Let it go, let it go.
Speak to me slow my dear
No ghost of course in here
Pleased, to be lonesome quiet and clear
All is alone in here.
Link...take me some where else.. it does
Young today, old as a railroad tomorrow
Days are just drops in the river to be lost always
Only you, only you, you know.
Years ago birds of a feather would arrive nightly
Gone you know, held to another like clutched ivy
On the shore, speak to the ocean and receive silence
Only you, only you, you know.
You hesitate, so my memory's fade I'll hold to the first one
I wouldn't turn to another you say, on the long night we've made
Let it go.
Only you, only you, you know
Only you, only you, you know
You hesitate, so my memory's fade, I'll hold to the first one
I wouldn't turn to another you say, on the long night we've made
Let it go, let it go.
Speak to me slow my dear
No ghost of course in here
Pleased, to be lonesome quiet and clear
All is alone in here.
Link...take me some where else.. it does
Thursday, 29 November 2018
Friday, 23 November 2018
Poem 14
Macavity: The Mystery Cat .......................... T.S.Eliot
Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw--
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of the crime--Macavity's not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there's no-one like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of the crime--Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air--
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!
Macavity's a ginger cat,he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is slightly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no-one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square-
But when a crimes discovered, then Macavity's not there!
He's outwardly respectable. (they say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair--
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty loose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair--
But it's useless to investigate -- Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
'It must have been Macavity!'-- but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity Macavity, there's no-one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
And what ever time the deed took place--MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mean Mongojerrie, I might mean Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations : the Napoleon of Crime!
Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw--
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of the crime--Macavity's not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there's no-one like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of the crime--Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air--
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!
Macavity's a ginger cat,he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is slightly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no-one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square-
But when a crimes discovered, then Macavity's not there!
He's outwardly respectable. (they say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair--
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty loose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair--
But it's useless to investigate -- Macavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
'It must have been Macavity!'-- but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity Macavity, there's no-one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
And what ever time the deed took place--MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mean Mongojerrie, I might mean Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations : the Napoleon of Crime!
Friday, 16 November 2018
Sunday, 11 November 2018
Wednesday, 7 November 2018
Sunday, 4 November 2018
Poem 13..
4/11/2018
Wilfred Owen was killed this day exactly 100 years ago,
just seven days before the end of the "Great war" He was
twenty five years old.
The Chances... Wilfred Owen
I mind as 'ow the night afore that show
Us five got talkin',-we was in the know.
'Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it.
First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it!'
'Ah well,' says Jimmy,-an, 'e's seen some scrappin-
'There ain't no more nor five things as can 'appen:
Ye get knocked out; else wounded-bad or cushy;
Scuppered; or nowt except yer feelin' mushy
One of us got the knock-out, blown to chops.
T'other was 'urt, loosin' both 'is props.
An' one, to use the word of' 'ypocrities,
'Ad the misfortoon to be took by Fritz.
Now me, I wasn't scratched, praise god amighty,
(Though next time please I'll thank 'im for a blighty)
But poor young Jim, 'e's livin' an' 'e's not;
'E reconed 'e'd five chances, an' 'e 'ad;
'E's wounded, killed and pris'ner, all the lot,
The bloody lot all rolled in one. Jim's mad.
Wilfred Owen was killed this day exactly 100 years ago,
just seven days before the end of the "Great war" He was
twenty five years old.
I mind as 'ow the night afore that show
Us five got talkin',-we was in the know.
'Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it.
First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it!'
'Ah well,' says Jimmy,-an, 'e's seen some scrappin-
'There ain't no more nor five things as can 'appen:
Ye get knocked out; else wounded-bad or cushy;
Scuppered; or nowt except yer feelin' mushy
One of us got the knock-out, blown to chops.
T'other was 'urt, loosin' both 'is props.
An' one, to use the word of' 'ypocrities,
'Ad the misfortoon to be took by Fritz.
Now me, I wasn't scratched, praise god amighty,
(Though next time please I'll thank 'im for a blighty)
But poor young Jim, 'e's livin' an' 'e's not;
'E reconed 'e'd five chances, an' 'e 'ad;
'E's wounded, killed and pris'ner, all the lot,
The bloody lot all rolled in one. Jim's mad.
Sunday, 28 October 2018
Monday, 22 October 2018
Poem twelve..
Phillip Le Barr... ..........................Spike Milligan..
Phillip Le Barr
Was knocked down by a car
On the road to Mandalay,
He was knocked down again
By a dust cart in Spain
And again in Zanzibar
So,
He traveled at night
In the pale moonlight
Away from the traffic's growl
But terrible luck
He was hit by a duck
Driven by an owl
Sunday, 14 October 2018
Thursday, 11 October 2018
Wednesday, 10 October 2018
Poem eleven....
No goodbye.... Derek H.
"Can I please talk to you?"
"Which one of you to which one of me".. I said.
"Is it the you that was part of the we,,,.. now dead?"
"Or is it the you that I see"
"And this thing now me?"
"Look just, just talk to me"
"Fine, I'll talk to the you that I see"... I replied
"Was it the you that was part of the we... who lied?"
"Or were you always and only the you I now see?"
"So you won't talk to me?"
"No, I don't know you"...
Friday, 5 October 2018
Carmen: "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle" (Elina Garanca)
I posted a version of this (by Agnes Baltsa) a while back
but this version by Elina Garanca is brilliant, wonderful.
Link.. ..full screen.(I want to be an orange..
PS. wonder what the #Me Too ladies think of her performance.
Thursday, 4 October 2018
you can't beat a good wallow in sadness
I've been re-reading some of Prof, Cox' stuff, now that is sad,
not the fact I've been reading the Prof's stuff, but what he says.
First the earth will leave the "Goldilocks" orbit in 2-3 billion years
and be swallowed by our sun in it's death throes (humans long
since gone before this happens) that's sad. Next, in about 4 billion
years our galaxy will collide with Andromeda , the end for billions
of stars, that's sad. The span of time these events take seems so
large that it's hard to think they will happen, but they will.
Finally, in maybe a trillion years or more,( but it will happen,)
our universe will be dead, not a beam of light, no movement,
a cold, dark emptiness, with no events happening even time
will stop.....
The lucky toe- rags, they're all smoking
Link...full screen and loud
Sunday, 23 September 2018
Poem 10
Fairy tales..... Derek H.
If all the Irish were in Ireland
What a crowded land it would be,
No Pixie dens deep green, nor hills
Rolling gently to the sea.
If Gods and saints were mortal
And all faith began this day,
Should we then ask for reasons
Why this time, this place, this way?
KRO
Wednesday, 19 September 2018
Monday, 17 September 2018
Poem eight..
"When I have fears" ........... John Keats.
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love; -- then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
Thursday, 13 September 2018
Monday, 10 September 2018
Tuesday, 4 September 2018
Claire ...
... as Kathy says, none of us ever have enough time..
click on link to see her speech. Link... Claire Wineland
You will never get what you want until you want what you have.
KRO
click on link to see her speech. Link... Claire Wineland
You will never get what you want until you want what you have.
KRO
Monday, 3 September 2018
Tuesday, 28 August 2018
Friday, 24 August 2018
Thursday, 23 August 2018
Poem 7
The road not taken ...............................Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth:
Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear:
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden back.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads onto way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Thursday, 16 August 2018
Wednesday, 15 August 2018
High windows... poem 6
Sad Steps......................... Philip Larkin..
Groping back to bed after a piss
I part thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
Four o'clock: wedge- shadowed gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind picked sky.
There's something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
High and preposterous and separate-
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements ! No,
One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.
Monday, 13 August 2018
Tuesday, 7 August 2018
Poem 5
On His Queerness ............ Christopher Isherwood
When I was young and wanted to see the sights,
They told me: 'Cast an eye over the Roman Camp
If you care to,
But plan to spend most of your day at the Aquarium-
Because, after all, the Aquarium-
Well, I mean to say, the Aquarium-
Till you've seen the Aquarium you ain't seen nothing.'
So I cast an eye over
The Roman Camp-
And that old Roman Camp,
That old, old Roman Camp
Got me
Interested.
So that now, near closing time,
I find that I still know nothing-
And am not even sorry that I know nothing-
About fish.
Monday, 6 August 2018
Saturday, 4 August 2018
Monday, 30 July 2018
Poem 2 and 3 and 4
An Epiloge ...... John Masefield ..
I have seen flowers come in stony places
And kind things done by men with ugly faces,
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust, too.
.........................................................................................
On Mundane Acquaintances .... Hilaire Belloc..
Good morning, Algernon: Good morning, Percy.
Good morning, Mrs. Roebeck. Christ have mercy!
...........................................................................................
Siegfried Sassoon (no title?)
'When I'm alone' ......the words tripped of his tongue
As though to be alone were nothing strange.
'When I was young' he said. 'when I was young....
I thought of age, and loneliness, and change.
I thought how strange we grow when we're alone,
And how unlike the selves that meet, and talk,
And blow the candle out, and say good-night.
Alone... The word is life endured and known.
It is the stillness where our spirits walk
And all but inmost faith is overthrown
Thursday, 26 July 2018
Goldfrapp - Stranger (Official Video)
Playing Miriam reminded me of this track from 'Tales of Us'
the whole album, brilliant stuff from Goldfrapp, she's one
dark lady.. click on the link and play more of the album
Link... Stranger
the whole album, brilliant stuff from Goldfrapp, she's one
dark lady.. click on the link and play more of the album
Link... Stranger
Wednesday, 25 July 2018
Tuesday, 24 July 2018
poems...
Apart from up-loading music from you tube
I have nothing to say on here anymore, so to keep it going
I'll try and post a poem a week, here's the first...
A Quoi Bon Dire... by Charlotte Mew..
Seventeen years ago you said
Something that sounded like Good-bye;
And everybody thinks that you are dead,
But I.
So I, as I grow stiff and cold
To this and that say Good-bye too;
And everybody sees that I am old
But you.
And one fine morning in a sunny lane
Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear
That nobody can love their way again
While over there
You will have smiled, and I shall have tossed your hair.
KRO
Sunday, 15 July 2018
Friday, 13 July 2018
Thursday, 12 July 2018
Tuesday, 10 July 2018
Saturday, 30 June 2018
Thursday, 28 June 2018
Sunday, 24 June 2018
Saturday, 16 June 2018
Noir Désir - Le Vent Nous Portera
Link... the wind will...
There's a translation on Google if you want it...
Unless the wind has carried it away..........
Wednesday, 13 June 2018
Friday, 8 June 2018
Friday, 25 May 2018
Sunday, 20 May 2018
Benazir Bhutto
world service..
.
Whether you think she's just another corrupt politician or a
larger than life woman who belongs in the 1400s
you have to admire her bravery ...
Click on' world service' to listen, you'll have to open an
account with the BBC... it's free.
KRO
.
Whether you think she's just another corrupt politician or a
larger than life woman who belongs in the 1400s
you have to admire her bravery ...
Click on' world service' to listen, you'll have to open an
account with the BBC... it's free.
KRO
Wednesday, 2 May 2018
'Blues Run the Game'
So here we go again, will we stay or will we go, being the Blues
we won't know until the last day of the season as always,
as always " the Blues are just the same."..roll on Sunday..
KRO
we won't know until the last day of the season as always,
as always " the Blues are just the same."..roll on Sunday..
KRO
Friday, 20 April 2018
Visions Of Johanna
Link... best of the best..
for me, the best version of the best of Dylan..
no idea who they are but wow.. some how
they've merged Dylan with the velvet underground..ace..
Tuesday, 10 April 2018
Friday, 6 April 2018
Thursday, 29 March 2018
Saturday, 24 March 2018
Monday, 19 March 2018
50 Mums | 50 Kids | 1 Extra Chromosome
A while back I watched a brilliant film by the magical
Sally Phillips about downs syndrome ( she has a child
born with this.) It seems we can now,( with early means
of detection and a woman's right to have an abortion)
stop anymore children with downs syndrome being
born. It looks like Iceland is well on the way to
becoming the first country to do this, the first country
to never have little bundles of pure love and joy
like these in this clip...
..think about it... what's next.... on second thoughts
don't think about it..
Link...50 mums...
the Sally Phillips film by the way
is here...Sally...
...
Sally Phillips about downs syndrome ( she has a child
born with this.) It seems we can now,( with early means
of detection and a woman's right to have an abortion)
stop anymore children with downs syndrome being
born. It looks like Iceland is well on the way to
becoming the first country to do this, the first country
to never have little bundles of pure love and joy
like these in this clip...
..think about it... what's next.... on second thoughts
don't think about it..
Link...50 mums...
the Sally Phillips film by the way
is here...Sally...
...
Sunday, 18 March 2018
Iron and Wine - Naked As We Came
link... back to the stars
In a hundred years everyone (save a handful of us) alive
today will be dead so, why worry?
KRO
Wednesday, 14 March 2018
Saturday, 24 February 2018
Sunday, 11 February 2018
Friday, 9 February 2018
Sunday, 4 February 2018
The Story of a Giant Inflatable Violin
link..it's a cello not a violin..
what ever it is you'd never get it under your chin...
..first bit of vid is me in my unit (cow shed) at Runway farm
second bit is Tim the painter at ABC
KRO
Wednesday, 24 January 2018
Linda Ronstadt In Atlanta 1977 05 Willin'
link..don't tell but...
so sad Parkinsons disease has taken away her fantastic voice,
wonder how she is now..
Tuesday, 16 January 2018
Friday, 12 January 2018
Wednesday, 3 January 2018
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