Batemans Miss Ireland (4.1%) £2.95
Adnams Dry Irish Stout (4.3%) £3.05
Roosters Celtic Corker (3.9%) £2.95
Wychwood Paddy Stout (4.3%) £3.05
Barbecue this Sunday in the beer garden .
March 20, 2010
Guest beers at the Victoria Union Road 20th March 2010
March 16, 2010
everybody had a favourite
it came out in plain English.
nothing fancy, just simple words
that we all understood and
could interpret our own way.
we had read others’,
some good and some not worth the effort.
everybody had a favourite, or two
and often quoted from memory.
time passed.
I, guitar
I, guitar, lie prone, in need of gently caress,
vibrations long gone, motionless, silent.
please adjust, tune me strings,
I, guitar, seek attention, lifeblood
of wooden body,
rhythm pulsates, me dance, shout,
I, guitar, burning, oxygen fanned
programmed passionata
laugh, cry, I guitar.
hotel room
a loneliness of worn carpet
home from no home
blanket inadequate
alarm clock neon
by flashing bed
right daily twice
shower adjacent suite
plastic toothmug disposable
towel thin, tablet soap
noises
March 15, 2010
National Heroes
“We can’t allow you heroes,” say the Fleet Street men of straw,
“our duty’s to expose them, their frailties and flaws.
We cannot sanction heroes, there’s no such thing as heroes,
we don’t have national heroes any more.
Okay, we may destroy him, his marriage, his career
with half-truths, innuendo, with fabricated smears,
but we don’t yield to sentiment, to candour or finesse,
Press Freedom can’t be fettered by fairness or largesse.
The dignity of just one man concerns us even less.
Reproach and accusations must fall on deafened ears
when we weigh emancipation against a family’s tears.
March 14, 2010
the line of the hedge
the line of the hedge
so sharp it cuts
your view in two
dirty white above
pale green below
the dark stripe
yellow flags flutter
indicating wind
speed and direction
the line of cars
haphazard, holds back
parents delaying
the inevitable
when duty comes
before comfort for
Sunday soccer
the cold wind,
loyal discomfort
my mam and me
my mam and me
down at the Palais
we dance to a timeless refrain,
she grooves,
makes all the moves,
life for her is a wonderful game.
keep movin’ mam
I say to myself,
climb through life’s window wide,
go out and have fun
because I, your son,
am coming along for the ride.
March 13, 2010
The drunk on the train
The drunk on the train kept touching the man sat opposite, making his point. Probably not earth shattering stuff but I couldn’t hear because I was thankfully sat in the other half of the carriage.
It was an uncomfortable scene – the other passenger mostly stared straight ahead, hoping to ignore the drunk and not to be drawn into conversation. In vain for the poor unfortunate.
crisp white linen
crisp white linen,
deadly silence,
occasional chink of careful crockery,
muzak – 1812 overture!
toast comes too early, always,
I try and eat without noise,
the food is good.
The Bird in Hand, Twyford.
The rusting tractor (at Collingham Station)
Past it.
Grey paint, streaked
Massey Fergusson (maybe)
with rust and parked behind,
the station near to the pretty,
irregular rows of black septic tanks.
the loose looming gravel pit
out of nowhere
reaching machinery up towards
the watchtower.
Beers on offer at the Strugglers, Westgate, Friday 13th March, 2010
Brewsters Marquis 3.8% £2.65
Draught Bass 4.4% £2.70
Brampton Golden Bud 3.8% £2.65
Timothy Taylors Landlord 4.3% £2.65
Brewsters Decadence 4.4% £2.75
Greene King Abbott 5% £2.75
Poachers Lincoln Best 4.2 £2.75
Guest Beers at the Victoria Union Road, Friday 13th March, 2010
Clarks No Angel 4% £2.95
Very poor showing this week. Let’s go round the corner to the Strugglers.
March 12, 2010
The night train
They stood there, 10 travellers on the platform waiting for the night train. It was cold but not as cold as it had been. We were coming out of winter and into spring so despite the late hour there was the slightest hint of freshness in the air.
The connection wasn’t a good one so we all had to hang around, having mostly got off the express, I guess. The onward journey was only a short one, maybe thirty minutes. It wasn’t as if we had the whole night ahead of us which somewhat reduced the dramatic effect.
March 7, 2010
The Sunday Morning Relax
Classic FM on the radio provides a relaxing background to streaky bacon with one egg, over easy, and steaming black cawfee.
Sunlight streams through the slats in the blind in the kitchen window.
There is no pressure and I sit quietly on the pew, in the corner, uninterrupted. No jobslist, no hassle. I feel my shoulders loosen up and relax.