Fog

Mist. Windows steamed up.
No room inside
for an unwanted pup.
Fog all around.
No home of my own.
November is dark
for a dog alone.


Capability Red            1971

Junior Apprentice Lunatic Show

There is a performance on a village green.
Maurice plays Horace: What a scene!
Colin and Cyril will both be there.
Come and see 'em, it's worth the fare.
The show's being held in Villagegate.
Quarter to seven. Don't be late.
Join in the chorus, let yourself go.
At the junior apprentice lunatic show.
They could make your business grow.
The junior apprentice lunatic show.
Ho ho ho ho:
Lunatic show.


Capability Red             1971

Got It Made

The tool shop beside the shipping office,
enjoys the pleasure of a roaring trade.
Customers come in for odds and ends
Maurrie Israel's got it made.
The bakers are a different piece of cake.
You see; they're always in the red.
There's another bakers around the corner
and they bake better bread!


Capability Red     aprox' 1972

Scientific Discovery

If you look closely.
It isn't a square.
Nor even a circle.
Now it's not there



Capability Red              1972

Mirror

Mirror, what do you see?
Within. A fragment of me?
Or, behind you, am I to believe.
Your conscience is infinite
do you ever get fed up with what you see?
But I can only see myself.
Or, is that what you want me to see?
Alice through the looking glass.
And malice through the mirror.
Oh mirror, what do you see?



Capability Red       1976

Conflict Ain't What it Used to Be

Note: I used to write a lot of angry political stuff when I was active in politics. Not any more. However, yes, there's always a 'however' isn't there: Every once in a red moon I get the urge to rant. So for the first time in ages...............

                Conflict Ain't What it Used to Be

Some pundit observed; "a funny old game
there's no difference, they're all the same"
Gove, Milliband, Haig, Balls.
A bunch of careerists without a cause.
David Cameron? What a joke
pretending he's an ordinary bloke.
And Boris Johnson; who are you?
The original rebel without a clue.
No. Conflict ain't what it used to be.

"We're all in it together", that's a nerve.
A bedsit in Peckham is what you deserve.
You get dirty mauve mixing red and blue
I'd flush those bastards down the loo.
A big brown turd like a floating barge
is the politest way to describe Farage.
Who are these people? Where are they from?
They've got no roots, they don't belong.
Conflict ain't what it used to be.

Back in the day you knew where you stood,
they were bad, we were good.
We were red, they were blue.
Tell the truth: Who were you?
It was like a civil war
the miners strike in Eighty Four.
Now it's all: " Don't rock the boat.
It might cost the party votes"
Nowadays conflict ain't what it used to be.

Defending jobs, we went on strike.
We told Tebbit: On yer bike!
You took your turn on the picket line,
stood with your mates, rain or shine.
Wore the badge, sold the paper
none of this 'opinion poll' caper.
The people's flag waved with pride
verses sung, we didn't hide.
Now: Conflict ain't what it used to be.

MP's calculating all their expenses
whilst making a living sitting on fences.
Breakfast TV, Question time.
It's hard to make this drivel rhyme
But I rarely turn the TV on
I'm not sure if I want to go on.
Social media?  Can it get any worse?
And I can't write another verse.
Because: Conflict ain't what it used to be.


Capability Red          September 2014

Her Greatest Discovery

Teasingly combing the guilt out of her hair,
cascading monsoon like onto her bedroom rug.
She asks the dressing table mirror:
What does it really mean, this sudden abandonment of angst?
This innocence of the first time.
Where nothing makes sense. Words no longer rhyme.
And that pointlessness of purity?
That deprivation of joy?
The furniture of fear never seemed so uninviting.
In the elegance of opera gloves she had opened up her mind, awakened her awareness.
Walked unaccompanied through the door marked: Childhood's End.
The door slammed behind her.
Paradoxically she had opened Pandora's Box, and now:
She realised, it could never be closed.



Capability Red            August 2014

Thesis for a Friday Night

I've got x ray eyes that see through more than just your black satin blouse.
And my intellectual radar picks up possibly more than you would otherwise allow.
As your pulse rate grows, the adrenalin flows and, who knows where it will all end?
Tell me: What'll yours be? Another G and T? Please don't opt out of it now my friend.

My theory is that death is the common denominator, I'm convinced that I'm right.
And I'm gonna get my point through to you, sooner or later: I don't care if it takes all night!
You've got that cuban heel, automatic appeal. Do you straighten your seams in a full length mirror?
Have a word with the quack. You'd do wonders for Quasi's back. You must know that you are the proverbial sinner.!

When the big bell sounds shall we stick around? Remember; it's only Friday once a week.
Or, we could pop in Mario's and I could walk you home. Perhaps we'd fall asleep.
Oh don't utter a word, please, don't be so absurd. Just nod your head or smile.
I've been here before and if I was ever really poor,  I know you'd pick me up once in a while.


Capability Red                1975

Aneld Erlyper Son

She's oh so unpredictable,
With her mind in her carrier bag.
But, isn't she sensible.
Oh! What a life she had.
Her bus pass in safe.
In a pools coupon envelope.
I wonder what became of that?
And my: That hat!
It's something else.
Mind you. She is getting on.
Getting on the bus.



Capability Red    1980

Let Me Write About The Places I Know

Let me write about the places I know,
the plants that grow and flowers in the garden.
Allow me to sit on a bench by a tree
from where I can see: Life's to's and fro's, beggin' your pardon.

And after wandering a meandering mile,
I'll shelter for a while in faraway sleepy Shaldon.
Reflecting upon; things that float, like fishing boats
My ancestors once built in Maldon.

With borrowed words that'll never return
Or, let me earn a living from my writing.
I'll fritter away this boring routine,
recording what I've seen: Nothing particularly exciting.

If I ride on board a bus or a train.
Pausing yet again at bustling Waterloo Station.
Sitting alone, I'll memorize and eulogize
each time framed observation.

I'll try to describe in verse or rhyme, how
Time after time, people hurry around me.
So. Let me write about these places I know.
Before I go: Beyond this world that surrounds me.



Capability Red   June 2014

From Where I'm Sitting

It's One o'clock, the typists are free,
the clerks are out, it's first degree.
Solicitors, Barristers, suburban mums,
a public schoolboy with a group of his chums.
They moan about Yasser, sink halves of lager,
 men eye the barmaid
and mutter 'they'd rather'.
Then:
It's back to the office.
Home to; 'the wife'
doing the garden, watching That's Life.
And once again, Monday morning.
There, there, there, surely it isn't that bad:
You can disguise yourself in a collar and tie
and a 'ready to wear' from Burtons.
But.
Please, Mr Suburban man
On Saturday night, pull the curtains



Capability Red           aprox'   1976

TINA

Memories fade like a newspaper cutting in a frame from yesteryear.
The dream approaching platform ten, does not stop here. Not stop here.
Bargain hunter-gatherers compare discounts below half price,
the simple boy is deeply immersed in the world of his hand held device.
Between Corinthian columns the role of Monkey Harris is rehearsed,
audition over, into the night urbanian hordes disperse.
The restlessness of myth is traded in dealing rooms,
besuited, consciousless zombies feast on tomorrows gloom..
We are all customers now, there is no such thing as society.
Quality, value, rewards, emptiness in every shade and variety.
But the lifestyle that you ordered is currently out of stock.
Thank you for using TINA, the heartbleat of the flock.
And ideas left unattended will be removed and may be destroyed,
have you swiped your self  checkout card? Resistance is null and void.
Was this template for tomorrow ever the voters choice?
consumer charters, opinion polls. Profits that have no voice.
Read our price guarantee, enter our loyalty maze.
There is no alternative. There are no reported delays.


Capability Red          2014

Little Men

Look at the little men.
They're all walking slowly away,
climbing the stairs of wisdom.
Oh, look, they've all opened doors.
Except that one. He's coming back,
he's asking for a pair of shoes.
Why? He can't run.
A millennium says he'll never learn.
Any offers?



Capability Red           aprox' 1974

Three Years

Three years, fulfilling the third carriage fantasies.
Never knowing if she's coming or going.
Becoming a star in a middle age dream,
a voice on the 'phone,
or a face in the stream.

She's Marilyn Monroe
to the business man from Tring,
and every Tuesday evening
a schoolgirl on a swing.

She's only twenty two
going on fifty one.
Her face keeps coming undone.

These three years have been hell.
She can't tell her Mum or Dad,
they'd be sad.

And where
will it end?

Another three years?



Capability Red            aprox 1974

A Day in Her Death

Morning comes as well it might,
and hours surrender, hail the night.
Oh. She's out again!
Wandering.
Feline.
Beeline for the door.
We've seen it all before.
A day in her death.

Single bars and clubs you know.
She may come
and she may go.
She'll never settle down.
But bet your life she'll be around.
It's just a day in her death.
A day in her death.



Capability Red             1976