“My conscience plays upon me now”…

~

What are we afraid of…
The dead will tell no lies…
Everything we’ve hidden…
All the things that we despise…

Like skeletons in the closet…
Locked away from view…
Each of us has them…
Every year we add a few…

Memories so painful…
Of all the things we did…
Darkest Black and secret…
And all we were forbid…

We knew what we were doing…
Had the freedom of choice…
The fruit we ate was bittersweet…
But laced with Satan’s voice…

Now we keep them quiet…
And try hard to forget…
The moment that we came undone…
And actions we regret…

But memories cannot hurt us…
Unless we let them out…
So keep them locked up tight…
Don’t succumb to inner doubt…

And accept we all have demons…
Not one is beyond reproach…
None of us are flawless…
As we ride in life’s stagecoach…

It’s part of the experience…
And all part of life’s plan…
Temptation comes in many forms…
For either women or a man…

So what are you afraid of…
It’s written in your eyes…
Everything you’ve hidden…
All the sins you can’t disguise…

~

“Who get lost when the Sun goes down”…

Forty for Forty…

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So, a quick update. It seems an age since HardRock Calling and my last gig. A planned trip to theatre land didn’t pan out at the weekend, so it meant my total remained frozen. So far I have attended 16, with 7 pre: booked.

This gives me a 23 for the year and way short of the required 40. However, the exciting news is that I have added another date to the list. The super cool David Byrne is playing only 2 shows in the UK – London and Birmingham.

So I am sneaking to Birmingham to see him play the Symphony Hall, which is a venue I have always wanted to attend, but never been. It certainly has to be more glamorous than the last place I went to a gig in this city – namely the Glee Club.

As my 40th hits in September (25th for those wanting to join my celebrations!) then there is clearly no chance of hitting the required 40 events this year. So it is with much regret and a heavy heart that I am going to have to…. Extend this into 2014 !

Yes, I have the green light to keep on gigging and with much arm twisting, I have accepted the challenge. So, this quest has to be complete before I am 41. This now takes off a lot of pressure, because it means I don’t have to book gigs just for the sake of it.

So, upcoming are David Byrne, the amazing Justin Currie. The super young and handsome Tom Odell. Then I go on a comedy binge, with the astounding Nina Conti  before Phil Jupitus and Jimmy Carr are unleashed on me.

The jewel in the crown remains my solo trip to see Nick Cave in London and words can’t explain just how much I am looking forward to that. The last of my currently booked is the little known Kurt Vile and have decided to do that one cold and not research.

However, one I do not need to research is David Byrne. If I am this cool in my 60’s, I will be one very happy man and with the added bonus of the sultry St Vincent with him, what more could a Yorkshire man want for the evening.

Oh, one final thing in response to a couple of lovely emails. (you can email me at jamieblog2013@hotmail.co.uk anytime about anything) – but please read the “what’s it all about” page with regard to the poetry on here. My words and the songs connect. That connection is mine. Any interpretation is yours.

Right, update over; Leave you with the aforementioned Byrne and St Vincent and “Who”.

Enjoy

“Not through confusion, through fear”…

~

Back in the place…
Where all this began…

Her face twisted with anger…
Left one broken man…

The violent words spoken…
And such vicious lies…

The crossing of swords…
Did she even realise…

The extent of the impact…
How it made him feel…

He wished she was dead…
To end to this ordeal…

He’d chased this queen…
With a foolish heart…

Unrequited and unwanted…
She ripped him apart…

Smashed down his defences…
Put him in a spin…

Made his skin crawl…
She knew how to win…

But this wasn’t a game…
This was real life…

And he had to rebuild…
So many tears, so much strife…

She crushed the boy…
Without a hint of guilt…

But just look at him now…
See how he slowly rebuilt…

Reborn from the ashes…
A phoenix from the flames…

He has the same features…
But inside things have changed…

He looks through his eyes…
With a different perspective…

And a new found vision…
Yet it’s all so subjective…

Because in a heartbeat…
She torments him again…

That savage fork tongue…
The root cause of his pain…

Now he’s back in the place…
Where all this began…

And the memories still haunt…
The fearful boy inside the man…
~

“It’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world”…

Questions, Bognor, London…

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I am not sure I have the answers, but this week’s trip has got me asking questions. Firstly, it was back to Bognor to see my old friend. Life has been cruel to him over the years. He lost both his wife and child in child birth. A skiing accident then robbed him of his mobility. Then a stroke took his remaining sanity.

Yet his eyes remain kind – blank, but kind. He has travelled through his life without malice, followed his god and done the things the right way. Yet he will see out his time in a home, miles from anyone who really knows him – just waiting for the day his god deems he has been punished enough.

Where is the fairness in any of his life story? I acknowledge that life is about balance and for all I know, he could have committed some horrendous crimes along the way – but still, his punishment doesn’t seem to fit any crime. I tell young Ollie that the first rule of life is, life is not fair.

So it shouldn’t surprise me and my friend would be the first one to say that worse things happen to other people – that was always his nature. Not that there is much of it left. We spent 3 days sitting, talking, taking him out. Each time he forgot we had been the day before. The light in his eyes sparks, but it goes out just as fast.

The remainder of the week was back in my spiritual home of London. I know what you are thinking, that’s 3 times this year already and I just never get bored. However, there was a slightly different slant on this trip as I made the decision to reconnect with someone – or at least try.

It’s interesting that we go through life making connections with people. Some stay, some fade, some are lost. Sometimes through a decision made, sometimes simply by not realising. When I look back, I have allowed a few connections to fade.

I regret most of them – not all – and I wonder if I should have done more. But the balance is that it has to be two way right. With the best will in the world, you can’t manage to keep in touch with everyone. Which is where I think I went wrong and another friend is right.

I laughed out loud this weekend reading Oscar Wilde’s “The picture of Dorain Gray” – one of the characters referred to people he meets and some are friends, others acquaintances, others are merely people who pass through his life.

My friend is amazing at putting people she meets into this context. Sadly, I lack the ability and treat most people the same, I take people as I find them and I try to take time to scratch the surface to see if there is a connection – I always hope there is. However, I maybe am guilty of investing time in the wrong people.

That of course leads me wide open to chasing the wrong people in my life. Maybe it’s just because I want to be liked. Maybe I have a desire to be popular. Maybe I should finally and gracefully accept that I am what I am and the people still around me are the ones I should cherish more.

Anyway, I did take a decision to reach out to someone and reconnect – I was fearful, but pleasantly surprised to see I was remembered at least. So the rest of the London trip was surprisingly chilled. A boat on the river the highlight and great weather. Who could ask for more?

I did manage to escape into the darkness of London for two nights. Both very different. One night sat at the foot of Nelsons column at midnight. It is an amazing experience and one I can recommend. Just sat with a coffee watching the traffic buzz around like never ending flies. It seems a bizarre thing, but most therapeutic.

The other night was milling around Soho and the centre of London. It never fails to excite me and there is never a dull moment. From couples almost getting it on in the street, to others having drunken arguments. The sights, the smells, the exotic nature. I could walk for hours just being a voyeur.

So, in closing this ramble, other questions floating around.  At what point do you really begin to take responsibilities for your actions? At what point is the excuse that “It felt right at the time” no longer valid? At what point in your life do you look back and acknowledge that – no matter how good the intention – you have hurt people along the way?

And at what point should you go back and actually try to fix things – or do you let sleeping dogs lie? As I said, I don’t have all the answers – but I do have a good song to close. Walking down Soho reminded me of this song – could only be The Kinks and “Lola”.

Enjoy

“I’m not losing my mind, no I’m not changing my lines”…

~

The pain deep inside…

Is burning again…

Can’t swallow my pride…

Or remember when…

The last one came…

Where the first one went…

This only feels like…

It’s Hell’s decent…

Where the fires ignite…

And they dance on hot coals…

But nobody realises…

Just what “they” stole…

And that which was taken…

Was never returned…

It left a big hole…

The memory still burns…

It causes the pain…

And there is no relief…

In a world that’s so cruel…

Everyone is a thief…

Even if they don’t know it…

Or if they don’t care…

All this is true…

On your bible I swear…

Yet you haven’t a clue…

“They” took it from me…

Come on, open your eyes…

Can’t you fucking see…

That now I lie standing…

Up against this broken wall…

The world is against me…

But I won’t fucking fall…

It’s time to step up…

And begin to rebel…

Give it back to me…

Or bid your farewell…

The wheel keeps on turning…

And this just can’t go on…

So consider yourself warned…

This is my mission, my song…

The pain deep inside…

Drives me forward again…

Time to swallow your pride…

And prepare for the hurricane…

~

“All that she touched, she set on fire”…

~

She is like a masterpiece…
Hanging on the wall…
In every way she’s flawless…
And towers above them all…

Her eyes shine like diamonds…
With soft skin like a peach…
Hair that’s akin to pure spun gold…
That smile requires no speech…

She’s every artist’s muse…
Cause of the poet’s pain…
The more you gaze upon her…
The further you’re driven insane…

She leaves you totally breathless…
In her presence you go weak…
A glance can make the difference…
Her company you crave and seek…

There’s no one else quite like her…
No matter how hard you look…
Many men have tried to ensnare…
But she’s dodged their every hook…

And like so many before you…
You can look but dare not touch…
She’s a fantasy off limits…
Even though you want her so much…

She remains just out of reach…
But keeps within your sight…
When she’s not sat beside you…
She’s in your dreams at night…

She’s the burning in your desire…
And the sunrise in your east…
Leaves your soul tormented…
Upon her lips you want to feast…

And hold her naked body…
So close and never let it go…
The Devil planted this seed…
Your mind now makes it grow…

But she remains a masterpiece…
Just like Dorian Gray…
Beautiful, graceful and elegant…
She’ll forever stay that way…

~