It’s brief,
short and to the point
as per usual
when we talk on the telephone,
only truly opening up
to each other when we sit
and take up room on the sofa.
It is my fault,
I am lost in the minefield
of unexploded conversation
when technology is the preferred state of
carrying words;
yet when I am
face to face
with you
my son, our chats
mean the world to me.
Ian D. Hall 2017
For all who said no,
You can’t, won’t, don’t,
It’s not possible,
You never will,
It’s in your head,
You’re not capable,
It’s just a whim,
You’ll give up, give out, give in
For all those who stopped me before I started,
For those who stopped me dreaming,
Who made me content with just O.K.,
Who made comfortable too comfortable,
I’m saying yes,
I’m hearing yes
And I am trying,
I’ll fall, I’ll fail
And I’ll try again,
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
The future is not written and yet every possible scenario that could plague humanity has been played out, thought of, given so much consideration by experts and the layman that if disaster did find its way into the rolling news there would be many who would shrug their shoulders and carry on digging a hole, avoiding all possible means of Impact.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
The Darker My Horizon, the clearer and lighter the past seems, without the benefit of hindsight, without the ability to see what that future brings, the more it is shrouded in a thick veil of mist. Impossible to perceive what you might be doing in two years time and yet in full glorious Technicolor you can sit back and transport yourself a decade and relive an emotion that may have been as powerful as a seismic shock across a continent, such is the power of Time and it is the kick in the fat underbelly of those who cannot see beyond their own reluctance just how timely the band’s album Acquiesce is.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
Cast: Neil Dudgeon, Fiona Dolman, Nick Hendrix, Jason Hughes, Manjinder Virk, John Bird, Susan Jameson, Raj Awasti, Tia Bannon, Joe Dixon, Daniel Eghan, Susan Fordham, Frances Grey, Esther Hall, Stephen Hawke, Michael Haydon, Bruce Lawrence, Natasha Little, Mark Powley, Mike Ray, Paul Reynolds, Parth Thakerar, Glenn Webster.
The village green, second only to Lords as a natural home of English cricket, a place where the icy, money tentacles of show business have not crept in and the game remains pure, cricket at its most gentlemanly, where the only thing to worry about is bitter rivalry, untamed jealousy and the wearing down of the natural order; where the Last Man Out might still buy the round or quite easily find himself the target of death.
I am of Cornish blood,
it hangs in my veins like the apple
orchard that hugged the cliff
looking down on The Tamar,
rough water leading to two miles of joined land,
looking across to Plymouth
and the Hoe in which I kicked a football
and the early swimming lessons in the sea stormed
and tossed lido, perfect on summer’s days
with ice cream in hand
and the barnacles wading in with the march
of the sea.
I am of Cornish blood, it races through my veins,
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *
Time is nothing more than illusion, something purposely created by humanity to make sure we find ways of being productive and marking the hours between dawn and dusk so that the darkness of night has something a little more concrete to hang onto, to remind us to get something down on paper that is tangible and worth leaving for the next generation.
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
To see the wreck on the shoreline, fire blazing through its hull, the explosion waiting to happen as the flames get nearer to the gunpowder and the bottles of premium whisky, the mast holding up resolutely and with pride; sometimes you just have to Swallow the inevitable and move back a few feet to take in the bigger picture, the dynamite of Rock that is about to shatter and pulverise the masses into submission; this is exactly what life is for, making the Rock move, to see the Burnt Out Wreck blaze in fury and fire, nothing comes close to excitement as this.
In wasting away by wasting the day,
a certain call from the crow on the church
roof reminds me that the rest
of the time available to me
as I spin in the void
is now in the red, I owe
Time, meaningless,
malingering Time,
a bomb waiting to explode
and Big Ben crumbles
but Time is to be honoured,
I am in debt to Time,
the second, the minute, the hour strikes
as the sun dips behind the crumbling edifice
of Johnson’s Cleaners;
Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
Tomorrow never comes, for many the possibility of it being worse than the day they have just lived through is enough to make sure the alarm clock never rings, that the year to come could be as cloudy as the one that just faded with nightmare stealth into the past. Tomorrow though should be viewed with a sense of optimism, with a sense of candour and hope and one that no matter what is the stepping stone to being able to breathe easily.