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June 8, 2016
Tonys Time Machine
Wednesday 8th June.
11am – 1 pm
Today sees the return of
‘June Rocks’.
with
This week in History,
and the Old Grey Whistle Test memories.
Tony with be reading
‘For The Love Of Music – Part 7’
Written by
Harriet Blackbury.
(Repeats at the usual times)
June 5, 2016
‘Ossie’s Dream’ sang Tottenham Hotspur
keeping ‘81’ FA Cup dreams alive.
‘Here We Go’ sang Everton FC
with Howard, back in 85.
Going it alone in song,
in 87 were Chris & Glenn.
Their ‘Diamond Lights’ at No.12,
just missing out on the top ten.
‘Glory, Glory Man United’
reached 13 in the charts in 83,
but with ‘Come on The Reds’, in 94
finally at No.1 was Manchester Utd FC.
In 72. came ‘Blue Is The Colour’
making it to No.5 for Chelsea FC
In the 90’s, ‘No one can stop us now’ & ‘Blue Day’
and then ‘Blue Tomorrow’, in 2000, finally.
In 78, ‘We’ve got the Whole World in our hands’
sang Nottingham Forest FC & Paper Lace.
In 70 ‘Back Home’ No.1 for the England World Cup Squad.
And in 90, ‘World in Motion’, again taking a No.1 place.
‘Anfield Rap (Red machine in full alert)
in 88 shot up to No. 3 in this chart mix,
then ‘Pass & Move (It’s The Liverpool Groove)
reached No.4 by The Boot Room Boys of 96.
So many more songs to choose from;
some more in tune than others.
But the sentiment always the same,
Footy folk, a solid band of sisters & brothers.
May 31, 2016
Tune in to
Tony’s Time Machine
Wednesday 1st June.
11am. – 1pm
(Repeated Thurs 8am
Frid 1am, Sat 6pm )
Today’s Tony’s Guest
is
John Trotter
(Support Worker – Morecambe)
who will be discussing
Disabled access to
Premiership Football Grounds.
Also,
read live will be
‘Football Club Nicknames’
written by
Harriet Blackbury
Have fun folks
May 30, 2016
There’s The Shaymen and The Silkmen,
and many clubs called The U’s.
There’s The Shrimps and The Shrews,
and lots of clubs called The Blues.
There’s Railwaymen and Tractorboys,
and The Brewers and The Shots.
There’s The Cobblers and The Glovers,
and The Red Devils with the hots.
There’s The Spurs and The Gunners,
and The Toon Army and The Tykes,
and The Hammers and The Potters,
and The Pilgrims taking hikes.
There’s the Rams and The Wolves,
and The Eagles and The Seagulls.
There’s The Mariners and The Owls,
and The Saints and The Gulls.
There’s The Shakers and The Trotters,
and The Cherries and The Tangerines.
There’s Pompey and there’s Posh,
and Canaries in yellows and greens.
There’s The Black Cats and The Tigers
and The Hatters and The Dale.
There’s The Bluebirds and The Wanderers,
and The Terriers and The Vale.
There’s The Baggies and The Toffeemen,
and many called The Claret and Blues.
There’s Donny and there’s Palace,
and many more I could chose.
Whatever club our inclination:
Whichever club holds dear, our heart,
we’ll stick with through the ages,
til the day that we depart.
Whether riding high in the top flight,
or in the family leagues below,
Football is our Saviour,
and the game we all love so.
Written by Harriet Blackbury
May 26, 2016
‘In’ says Corbyn
as does Blair,
but ‘out’ says Boris,
flicking hair.
‘In’ says Cameron
so does Major.
‘In’ says Brown –
there goes my wager.
‘In’ says Hezza
so does Clarke.
Two trusted stalwarts
make their mark.
‘In’ says Obama
nervous but brave.
‘Out’ says Thatcher
from the grave.
‘In’ says Osborne
with little material clout.
‘Out’ maybe The Queen
though there is doubt.
‘In’ says Teresa
but only just,
whilst Mrs Merkel
says ‘In’ – a must.
‘In’ says Cleggy
and Farron too.
Trump says ‘Out’
his point of view.
‘In’ on some days,
then ‘out’ makes sense.
My bum so sore
sitting on the fence.
‘In’ says Sturgeon
and Lagarde.
No opinion yet
from Stratford’s Bard.
‘In’ says Soames
but ‘Out’ Lord Owen.
Who knows which way
this thing is going?
‘Out’ says Gove
and Lawson too,
and for JCB –
a Brexit view.
So much to weigh up
So much brain strain,
but a wasted vote
if I abstain.
‘In’ says Abbott
and ‘Out’ Portillo –
a friendly fight due
with a political pillow.
‘In’ says Jaguar
and Land Rover.
I’ll be so glad
when voting over.
‘In’ say The Kinnocks
through family ties,
which kind of comes
as no surprise.
‘In’ says Mandelson.
‘Out’ says Rees-Mogg
The answer clear
as pea-soup fog.
‘Out’ says Putin –
Europe’s backbone gone.
Lord Archer relaxed,
another Best Seller, No. 1
‘In’ say those
you wouldn’t think!
I’m so confused
I’ll turn to drink.
‘Out’ says Farage
with pint in hand.
‘Out’ says Whittingdale,
‘making a stand’.
But If ‘Out’ is do-able,
how long the wait
before progress seen?
is the main debate
Little clues from Dimbleby,
or ‘This Week’s’ Neil,
though Molly’s advice
my vote would seal.
So many undeclared
we can’t lean upon.
Impartial too has to be,
The Speaker – John
That man of letters, Johnson –
the campaign leader of ‘In’,
whilst IDS a firm ‘Outer’
shaking loud the tin.
And ‘Out’ forever
has been Bill Cash,
but Prescott’s ‘In’
with fists that bash.
‘In’ says Ashdown
and ‘In’ says Steel
so too Baroness Williams
I strongly feel.
Some say voting ‘In’ would fix
what isn’t yet broken?
Whilst voting ‘Out’ – a verbal minefield,
as yet unspoken?
‘In’ says Richard Branson,
‘In’ says Karren Brady
Respect, both for him
and this wise business Lady.
And If such proven leaders
(who know more than we)
are saying we must stay –
it’s making sense to me!
Whilst Brexit sounds OK in theory,
too many mavericks would be in charge,
and if it all went ‘belly up’
we’d be exposed to the world at large?
So ‘Yippee’ – what a sweetener,
to have Lord Sugar close at hand.
Some sense, at last on offer,
to help us clearly understand,
as the right cross indeed is vital –
we all must have our say,
and now someone we believe in
might finally save the day.
Taken from my Collection at www.blackbury-poems.com
May 23, 2016
and as with matters
of the heart,
distrust formed madness
from the start.
No love so strong
could time endure,
No quick-fix pill
a freedom cure.
and so long gone
the one who came,
and changed the world –
What was his name?
and as with matters
of the heart,
no barrier cream
could stop the smart.
No love so wrong
could stand the test,
so separate paths
always the best.
and so long gone
the one who came,
who’s now blocked out –
What was his name?
Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene;
events got the better of me.
News, not so good, arrived unannounced
on a daily basis you see.
There seemed no end to suffering;
all sorts of memories flooded back.
Re-opening dusty compartments,
where ghosts from the past attack.
Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene,
and in isolation sat.
Over – thinking as I tend to do,
when numb and feeling flat.
There seemed no end to misery;
I thought how life unfair,
and worried for the outcome,
of those, now facing their nightmare.
Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene;
life stopped me in mid-stream.
A good spell of going forward,
broken with a scream.
There seemed no point in mixing,
but if only I’d been aware,
that you too were sat in darkness,
without your ‘Jolly’ gene, beside you there?
Last week I lost my ‘Jolly’ gene,
but with time, it will return.
Sharing support, the answer,
when for the past we yearn.
So next time you lose your ‘Jolly’ gene,
and sense you fail to see,
just get in touch and let me know,
and we’ll chat until we are gloom-free.
May 13, 2016
In vivid green
with turquoise hue
appeared a kingfisher
out of the blue.
So moved was I,
the sight I shared,
as it came nearer
into view.
‘If that’s a kingfisher,
I’m Brad Pitt’,
said the protagonist
by my side.
‘Ornathology not
your strong point, dear’.
So in silence
we continued the ride!
In vivid fear
of my next remark
in case this time
I spotted a lark,
so moving as it
ascended the sky,
with plumes of grey,
so sleek and dark.
My protagonist
now buried his head
in the centre fold
of The Times.
Thinking.’God help me –
how long must I endure,
this old bird
and her potty rhymes.’
The truth behind a misconception
far too private to explain,
but amazing how a lack of knowledge
can put on one, such extra strain.
The truth behind a misconception,
as constricting as barbed wire.
Wind travelling in the wrong direction
killing the flame of loves desire.
Bruised and battered
through rough and tumble.
A knee full of cinders,
heard Mother grumble.
Out all day long
swinging from trees.
In all kinds of weathers –
sunshine and freeze.
Before ‘Health & Safety’
back in the day,
down on the farm
hiding in, bales of hay.
And up for a prank
playing tip-latch.
Whilst quick slight of hand
needed for Jacks.
Many a glass-alley
lost down a grid;
all part of life
when as a kid
nothing too problematic
stuck in the mind –
everyone an inventor
of a simplistic kind.
Just mauling about,
but never a threat.
Playing back-street footy
in the rain, soaking wet.
Feeling safe as houses,
everyone’s door open wide.
Nothing worth stealing
was there inside.
A thre’penny bit or a tanner
given weekly from birth.
Paper money, a fortune
if ten bob, one was worth.
Legs, the best form of transport-
a stick aiding the hike,
or a real tour-de-force
if one posh, with a bike.
How far we have come,
Great-Grandparents recall,
reflecting on their lives,
now we have it all.
No wonder they frown
and think us spoilt to bits,
The best teachers are they,
with wise words from their lips.