Keeping Grassroots Live

Posted by on Jan 30, 2015 in Literature, Music | 1 comment

There has been a lot of talk, for quite some time now, about the fragile state of the live music scene. This is a particularly hot topic in a desperate independent circuit facing venue closures and lower turnouts than a Tory conference on welfare, but it is all so affecting bigger venues and internationally established artists. Worse still: the problem seems to be transcendent of genre and geography (with the exception of inner city development...

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Blessing On A Bedroom

Posted by on Feb 24, 2014 in Literature | 1 comment

Come, rest now dear one in the loving arms And gentle warm embrace of night so meek, Surrender burdens to the gentle charm That seduces eyelids to thy cheek. For every curse wrought thereupon the day Is banished as surely as the light (Which chases ‘ere the darkness on the morn That thy soul in joy may be reborn) Oblivion not feared but something craved: The eternal glimpse, a vision without sight. Come, dreamer sleep! And sleeping be...

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Urban Sunset

Posted by on Sep 8, 2013 in Literature | 0 comments

The great glowering disc falls helplessly to the ground, An oil painting of orange and red; Slender fingers of bruised light reaching across earth and sky Obscured in part by a blanket of white heat Rising from the cold, hard ground Where sits a monument: An icon of change, A beacon of hope, A slowly turning shadow in the dying embers of the day

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Silent Pen

Posted by on May 6, 2013 in Literature | 0 comments

When I have writers block, sometimes it becomes my subject. This is one of my older poems now, but the fact that I can still read it suggests it may have some longevity in it. What do you think?   Alone, I sit in silence with no pen, Remembering the times we used to share. Soft trickling words would bubble up ’till when A melody would surface in the air. A song! What joy: when words begin to live In simple melodies that kiss the ear....

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Winter

Posted by on Feb 28, 2013 in Literature | 0 comments

Father heaves a great autumnal sigh And lays her down in darkness Her sallow countenance belies A crystalline hope As carefully, delicately she draws Her pristine gown of white Around her neck, as she awaits Her groom, the coming spring. by Ben Cook This poem was one of my impulsive challenges following a discussion about school assignments and one in particular that was to compose 8 lines on the subject of Christmas or Winter. I can only...

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Unheard Prayer

Posted by on Feb 22, 2013 in Literature | 1 comment

Hush, come quietly by For now the mice are praying With tiny hearts aglow in the final, dying flicker Of a single candle left to burn. Hush, come quietly by For now the walls resound With tiny tongues and the faintest echoes of the past As each extols their maker. Hush, come quietly by For as the candle gasps, Its last light upon the altar leaves a shadow Of a final, hopeful...

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