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Think Again

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So you think that the Russians want war These are the children of parents who died in the last one Do you think that's possible knowing their past That they'd ever considered repeating the past When twenty million were slaughtered by NAZI invasion They died fighting on our side you know In a fight to defend human kind from NAZI terror and hatred In the name of humanity bitter and torn In the name of our children as yet to be born Before we do that which can never be undone I beg of you Think, Think again And again and again and again and again Do you think that the Russians want war These are the children of parents who died in the last one Do you think that they want to go through that again The destruction the bloodshed the suffering and pain In the second world war out of every three dead one was Russian If we try with all of our power Can we not find a way to peacefully settle our difference In the name of humanity bitter and torn In the name of our children as yet to be bo...
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Lame

My right knee appears to have gone again. I proportion blame on striding round Liverpool or the utterly inadequate bed at the Albert Dock Premier Inn … or just being a little bit broken.  It suddenly became a significant problem in June 2017(?) stepping into the garden to tend the barbecue, a shooting pain felt behind my knee and suddenly not being able to adequately weight-bare. Then it just worsened as I worked a lengthy & stressful shift the following day, where I couldn’t be released to return home. By the time so landed at Huckleberry Heights, after hobbling to my car parked miles away in Bethlehem I was in a bit of a mess. Almost crippled. A visit to A&E and X-ray the next morning revealed I had ligament and tendon damage, and underlying early joint wear indicative of arthritis.  Matters were significantly complicated by my Dad going not hospital the following day for cancer surgery, and knowing I needed to be on-duty to support my parents. So I dosed myself with...
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I’ve always been a mess

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I’ve always been thirsty; I’ve always been a mess. I’ve always been hungry; I’ve always been a mess. I’ve always been greedy; I’ve always been a mess. I’ve always been jealous; I’ve always been a mess. 
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Once more …

 Friends say I should write a book, and yes I have ideas, but I can’t escape the feeling that the biggest tale I have to tell is my own. I need to write this down before I can address all the stories that buzz around my mind. So here I am, back to the Shipyards, the abandoned Shipyards and embracing Odd Art. It may help?
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