I was sat in a café, reading a great poem about my home city of Manchester.*
The opening lines read:
Queen of the cotton cities,
nightly I pick you back into existence:
the frayed bridal train your chimneys lay
and the warped applause-track of Victorian rain.
You’re the blackened lung whose depths I plumb,
the million windows and the smoke-occluded sun.
A couple took the table behind me. The lad never spoke, but the girl:
“I’ve always had weird drinking habits. I used to drink the vinegar out of cockle and muscle jars. I think it’s the cause of my leaking bladder.”
All of this was underscored by a female cover of Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s The Power Of Love. Haunting and ethereal. Alchemical.
All of these things merged and mingled into one tributary, collaborative moment, leading me to the page, transcribing slowly.
*Manchester, Adam O’Riordan.
A lad I know is a member of a local band. He had a riff and outline for a new song, but no lyrics. Being familiar with my book, he asked if I could come up with some lyrics for it, and this is my attempt. Something I’ve never done before, but I think poetry and song lyrics are consenting bedfellows.
I think it works better with the music rather than standing alone in naked print, but here you go.
Will let you know if it makes the radio 🙂
Hanging On 'Til Morning Satellite town where the sun sinks down the people are the sheaves of the concrete fields stirred by degrees by the Pennine breeze Hanging on 'til morning Hanging on 'til morning. The bucket bleed of the rusting heaps the black cats creep where the oil sinks deep wandering free the schizophrenic streets Hanging on 'til morning Hanging on 'til morning The stifled screams of a dead man's dreams sit up and watch the clock and the winnowing fork taking the drop on a lifetime's work Hanging on 'til morning Hanging on 'til morning ©AJM
Three new year-themed songs to ease your way into 2017. An official video from Abba; a song from Jeff Buckley; a live performance from U2. Take your pick.
Happy New Year Jackdaw followers and visitors.
I woke this morning to the news that Debbie Reynolds had died, just one day after Carrie Fisher. The strain must have been just too much for the aged star. “She’s now with Carrie and we’re all heartbroken,” said her son, Todd Fisher. “She said, ‘I want to be with Carrie’, and then she was gone.”
Debbie wanting to be with her daughter is a nice thought, but what a time their family must be going through. On hearing the news, the lyrics of Ja Rule came to mind:
If pain is truly love,
for my family I die.
R.I.P both mother&daughter.