June 25, 2015

 

 

Sandwiches with

more bread than filling.

 

Mouth wide open

whilst the dentist drilling.

 

The sight of a spider;

the shock quite chilling.

 

My bank account debited

with someone else’s billing.

 

The jungle law;

animals, each other, killing.

 

An half hearted job,

that is never fulfilling.

 

An unlistening ear,

when facts I’m instilling.

 

Being seen as the culprit;

having to face a grilling.

 

A missed opportunity,

that would have been thrilling.

 

 

June 24, 2015

 

 

Back in the 60’s

when Bob Lord was king,

and life at Burnley FC

went with a swing,

 

A young fan of the club

to Turf Moor would hurry.

He watched every home game,

and was known as Gerry.

 

He stayed loyal through grim times,

and many there were!

But success came as well

for supporters to share.

 

Gerry liked a good sing-song;

a laugh and a joke,

and like the Houghton Weavers,

preferred to sing mostly ‘Folk’.

 

At times when Burnley lost,

he’d sing a shanty or a dirge,

and take requests from Blackburn fans;

‘sing Wild Rover’,  they’d urge.

 

He saw many games abandoned,

due to a water-logged pitch,

or ten inches of snow,

sent by the Pendle witch.

 

But with dogged determination,

and a folk song in his head,

he’d go to most away games;

to which ever town that led.

 

And though he could have followed,

Preston, Wigan or Bury?

He stayed loyal to his team,

did dependable young Gerry.

 

He even shunned watching Bolton,

when at it’s height with Allardyce.

And saw Rochdale and Bury as non-starters,

though was dragged there once or twice,

 

always under much duress,

with some relative or friend.

whilst his heart would be with Burnley,

playing down in Brighton or Southend!

 

When his fave Manager – ‘Stan the man’,

Hip-hopped down to Gigg Lane,

Gerry did attend more games there,

once he’d recovered from the pain.

 

So Folk music and Football

sure have floated his boat,

since back in the sixties,

when he wore his duffel coat.

 

‘Those were the days’ sang Mary Hopkins,

and Roger Whittaker sang Durham Town.

Whilst Haslingden’s very own Gerry,

was the local folk hero, renown.

 

So whether it’s ‘Gerry – the singer’

or ‘Gerry – the Burnley fan’,

he’s stayed true to what he loves,

because he’s just that kind of man.

 

 

 

 

 

I will love you until

the pigeons stop cooing.

 

I will love you until,

all the cows stop mooing.

 

I will love you until

Carlsberg stop brewing.

 

I will love you until

the opposition stop booing.

 

I will love you until

I don’t know what I’m doing.

 

But at the football ground,

I will always be queuing.

 

 

 

 

 

Old love that came

at dead of night,

into my mind

by satellite,

 

and touched my heart

like once before,

then just as quickly,

closed the door.

 

Old love that is

a lifetime sin,

that should stay buried

deep within,

 

Yet surfaces,

from time to time;

never free am I,

from this ancient crime.

 

Old love that is

a burden heavy.

Give me a break,

I’ve paid the levy.

 

No future built

on heartache’s glow.

The time is right,

old love, please go.

 

Old love that is,

too hot to handle,

like dying embers

of a candle.

 

Pray leave me now;

no future can there be,

to my loving you,

or you loving me.

 

Old love that was

the only thing,

to ever make

my young heart sing.

 

Take with you knowledge;

of this be certain.

You were the one,

now draw the curtain.

 

 

 

 

 

June 23, 2015

 

 

Tony’s Time Machine

Every Wednesday

11.00 to 1.00pm

with repeats all week.

On 24th June

Tony’s guest will be

Folk Singer Gerry

and Tony will be

reading

Harriet’s poem

‘Football Folk’

 

 

 

 

 

And music to

the rescue came,

to form a meaning

to life’s crazy game.

 

And music to

the rescue came,

when in isolation,

needing to proclaim.

 

And music to

the rescue came,

in the shape of rap;

no song the same.

 

And music to

the rescue came:

A survival kit,

and support frame.

 

And music to

the rescue came,

in the name of hope,

in this game of blame.

 

 

 

 

Acker Bilk, so well remembered

for his ‘Stranger on the shore’.

He always brought such happiness,

but sadly is no more.

 

The biggest hit for Joe South

was ‘Games people play’.

Easy listening music,

That still stands up today.

 

Soulful Etta James,

sang out with a blast.

No better song to touch the heart,

than her massive hit, ‘At last’.

 

Bobby Rogers co-founded The Miracles

who always put on a class show.

With hits like ‘I second that emotion?

and the divine ‘Going to a Go-Go’.

 

Dobie Gray’s song signalled change,

and helped us feel so proud.

We sure had the feel-good factor,

when singing The ‘In’ Crowd.

 

This lady’s country singing,

brought fans near to tears,

and more so when they heard of

the death of Billie Jo Spears.

 

Dave Brubeck, ever popular;

his hits through time survive.

His biggest one we can recall,

being, of course, ‘Take Five’.

 

One of the daydream believers,

with many hits on the go,

Davy Jones, part of the Monkees,

also starred in Film and Show

 

Billy Preston – keyboard legend,

sang his message loud and clear.

Another of the greats,

alas no longer here.

 

Deep Purple’s keyboard player;

Jon Lord, played his part.

Their valued founder member,

who’s passing broke our heart.

 

Flautist with the group who put,

vegemite sandwiches to rhyme;

Greg Ham from ‘Men at work’,

too soon ran out of time.

 

Half of a British writing duo;

her legacy has much ‘content’.

‘Where are you now my love’,

sang our own, Jackie Trent.

 

So many more were taken,

So many, I could name.

It comes with liabilities,

this fickle game of fame.

 

So many idols lost;

sudden death hard to digest.

Their music, their legacy;

our gain at their bequest.

 

June 16, 2015

 

 

Tonys Time Machine

Every Wednesday

11.00 am – 1.00pm.

Alison and Caroline

will be reading

For The Love Of Manchester

on 17th June.

‘For The Love Of Manchester’

can also be heard on the

‘Forever Manchester Show’ at 2pm

– both shows repeated throughout

the week at the usual times.

 

 

June 12, 2015

 

 

Loving Minnie Riperton was easy.

This perfect angel touched the heart.

Her hit so hauntingly beautiful;

all too soon did she depart.

 

One of the original Supremes,

Florence, destined not to grow old:

But a part of Motown’s hit machine,

with songs of pure gold.

 

War! – What is it good for?

asked Edwin, who then gave his reply.

‘Absolutely nothing’, he soulfully cried out,

then settled in the UK, until his goodbye.

 

Heinz strummed just like Eddie,

taking to the stage alone,

This clean-cut tornado of a singer,

made the song his very own.

 

Mary was sticking to her guy,

like a stamp to a letter:

Her hit strong enough to make sure,

we would never forget her.

 

Ginger Baker, was another,

who lived and breathed his art.

The undisputed cream of drummers,

who we keep very close at heart.

 

Bobby – The Womack legend:

His name synonymous to those,

who know their music well:

This soul man, sweet as any rose.

 

Nick Drake, from deepest Warwickshire,

with three albums to his name,

has now at last deservedly,

though posthumously, found fame.

 

Joe Cocker’s famous gritty growl,

let us know he was on stage.

Yet another of Sheffield’s finest,

helped us release our pent up rage.

 

Ronnie ‘plonk’ Lane of the Faces;

a lovely guy who suffered long:

Happy memories of them touring,

when the band was in full song.

 

Monday Monday, surely destined,

never to be the same,

without the joyous laughter,

from Cassie’s sassy frame.

 

Last of the Big Band Leaders;

James’ party was non-stop.

Such pleasure he gave to millions,

with jazz right through to pop.

 

So many more were taken,

so many, I could name.

It comes with liabilities,

this fickle game of fame.

 

So many idols lost;

sudden death hard to digest.

Their music, their legacy;

our gain at their bequest.

———–

To hear this poem read live

tune in to 

Tonys Time Machine – LDOK.net  

on

Wednesday 1st July

11.00am  to 1pm

 

June 7, 2015

 

 

Thirty years and nothing,

No contact, no hearsay.

The thought of re-uniting,

has my mind in disarray.

 

To meet up at the cricket ground,

was a brainwave, I have to say,

If he’s looking rather dodgy,

I can just go on my way.

 

He got me into music,

back then, in the day,

I’ll offer to buy him a beer;

I can’t see him saying ‘nay’!

 

Can he have changed ‘that’ much?

Until we meet, I just won’t know,

But we both still like cricket,

so it’s now on with the show.

 

And if he does my head in,

after the first nervous hour,

I can pray for divine intervention:

‘Please god, let there be a shower’.

 

And if it turns out well,

a second meeting there could be.

But one step at a time,

right now, will do for me.

 

Later that same day

 

The day went very well;

rain didn’t stop play.

Old memories flooded back;

we sure found plenty to say.

 

 

We spoke of happy times,

when we’d met at grammar school,

after he’d fallen off Mount Snowden:

– What a silly fool!

 

And how he wrapped his Mum’s car,

around a telegraph pole,

at Bowland’s ‘cow arc’ bend,

with me, in the passenger role!

 

And how he got me into music;

mostly rock and folk.

And introduced me to good ale;

he sure was my kinda bloke.

 

So yes, at the close of play,

we both were back on song,

a bit older and much wiser,

but we so, still got along.

 

And as Lanky, Lanky, Lancashire,

in our ears did ring out,

we turned to each other knowing,

our friendship, solid, without doubt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Written for LDOK.net  

( Tonys Time Machine)

To hear the concluding part

to Harriet’s poem,

tune in on Wednesday

11am – 1pm

 

 

 

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