The Party

I really liked the ideas in this poem by Becky Hemsley which this song is based upon: https://www.reddit.com/r/dementia/comments/13tfncp/afterparty_a_poem_about_grief_and_love_by_becky/

When grief crashed my party

He had all his old friends in tow

Frustration and anger followed

And sat down beside me

They outstayed their welcome

And talked over every other

But left when they saw you show up

And feared your name was

LOVE

Have we met before tonight?

You look familiar in this brighter light

Now that the party’s over

Why did I not see you here before tonight

Why did I not see you here before

This very night

She said

I’ve been waiting for the rest

To tire of you and finally take their leave

I was just dressed as

Dressed as

GRIEF

Please check out this wonderful poem by Clive James, who inspired the writing of this song: https://archive.clivejames.com/poetry/asma.htm

Also, the brilliant suitcase diorama shown in the song image is by Mohamad Hafez in collaboration with Ahmed Badr. https://www.unpackedrefugee.com/

For the great escape

Did you pack a case

For all your cashmere sweaters

It’s cold up there this time of year

Did you carry them

To the waiting plane

Or were your fingers bleeding

From writing all your pleas for help

Your pretty varnished fingernails

Used to fold up all your chiffon and your lace

But for the rest there’s no escape

How did it end this way

When you promised so much progress

When will you feel their pain

Just a second of their anguish

Governed with iron bars

No rest for the wicked

As you unpack your case

Again

20 years ago

Before the overthrow

The future looked so golden

This girl from London fit for Vogue

The uncovered hair

And the pleasant air

A voice for every woman

But in the end just empty words

Your pretty varnished fingernails

Used to fold up all your chiffon and your lace

But for the rest there’s no escape

How did it end this way

When you promised so much progress

When will you feel their pain

Just a second of their anguish

Governed with iron bars

No rest for the wicked

As you unpack your case

Again

My daughter wanted a Christmas song featuring our dog, Ronnie, so I’m just doing what I’m told 😀

The Tinsel Terrier

What a strange evening

At last they are sleeping

And now I’m alone on my rug

I’m the one to keep this family snug

Food on the fireplace

And trees in the wrong place

I’d better behave anyway

Lift my leg and I’ll be in my cage

What’s those footsteps on the roof?

What’s that scent of animals I’ve never known before?

Now who’s that trying to get in

Down the chimney who’s that stranger on my patch?

But he’s no match for me.

Don’t you know

That I’m the Tinsel Terrier

Friend or foe

I sniff out nasty derrières

So what do you think you are doing

You’d better climb up fast

It’s fair to say I’ll bite your big red……..

Hasta la vista mate

I’ve seen you on your way

They’ll be so proud of me

Down he came backwards

Hauling his sack

Was I ever this lucky before?

I’m bad enough with choirs at the door

What a hero I will be

When I chase this guy away from my family

They’ll feed me Turkey for a week I’ll be on the news for the whole world to see

Cos he’s no match for me.

My name is Ronnie

And I’m the Tinsel Terrier

My only job is

To make this family merrier

So what do you think you are doing

You’d better climb up fast

It’s fair to say I’ll bite your big fat…..

Hasta la vista mate

I’ve seen you on your way

They’ll be so proud of me

Now that he’s bolted

I see nothings altered

I settle back down for the night

I can’t wait to see them when I wake

They’ll be so pleased I saw him on his way

Look at what You could have Won by Greg Atkinson

My Mother died in March 2024, a few weeks short of her 94th birthday. She was a wonderful caring and sometimes very funny person. In April, her ashes were scattered in the gardens of the local crematorium and I was struck by the way they resembled a shadow on the grass, albeit white - in a photographic negative way - as if she was still standing amongst us in a family portrait.

The Long Shadow

Scattered by the Oak

A 10 by 2 vein casts a shadow

Of her

On this April evening

Is she right here with us?

Is she right here with us?

Tissue in her sleeve

We walk away

And see her shadow

Unite with the sunset

Farewell

We turn around

And leave her shadow

To blend with the sunset

Farewell

Farewell

Her shadow stretches out

From this solemn place we head home

As the night descends

She’ll sit outside our bedrooms

To kill off the monsters

To kill off the monsters

Till we fall asleep

We walk away

And see her shadow

Unite with the sunset

Farewell

We turn around

And leave her shadow

To blend with the sunset

Farewell

It’s not a song of my regrets

Unspoken words

Because I said it all the night before she left

So farewell

It’s not a song of words unspoken no

Cos I said it all the night before she left us

It’s not a song of words unspoken no unspoken

Cos I said it all the night before she left

It’s not a song of my regrets

Unspoken words

Because I said it all the night before she left

So Farewell

A song I've revisited recently and changed the title to better reflect what I'm going on about :)

One of my songs I seem to like more than others.

Guitar tuning is: C F C g c d.

Caught in a storm

The lucid beginnings are long gone

No escape from the storm

The lucid beginnings

Destroyed by a torrent

That’s pushing her under the sea

She clings to the sides

With her nails digging in

As the storm rages on

She just turns within herself

Here comes the storm

A deluge, a maelstrom before long

Fear the storm

A deluge, a maelstrom

That pushes her under

So much that she struggles to breathe

The lights that diminish

To nothing but black

How can I

How can I

See her safe to shore

When you make it out the storm

It’s so beautiful to me

When you make it out the storm

It’s so beautiful

Guitar Tuning: D A D F# B C# with Capo on 1st fret

Oh No

Another miscalculation

White knuckles all the way

I should have stayed in lane

And recognised my weaknesses

Are here to stay

This town

A parallel note of caution

That was sorely needed

To change the narrative

But now there’s far too many words

To place in the way

Of us

Add a little love don’t take away

As they divide us from each other

Multiply the positives between us

Moderate the negative signs

Smooth the wayward course of all the variables

Measure underlying growth

Oh God

Another fiscal adjustment

The very sort of thing

Sneaked through at 5pm

On a Friday fixed upon

Death-bed tributes

Just a ruse

Add a little love don’t take away

As they divide us from each other

Multiply the positives between us

Moderate the negative signs

Smooth the wayward course of all the variables

Measure underlying growth

And if you loved me just a fraction more

Then it would always be much more than I deserved it

And if you cancel me out what remains?

Well just an empty vessel with no chance to taste it

No chance to taste it

Oh No

Another miscalculation

The Gifted House by Greg Atkinson