TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 9 – FRAGILITIES MINE

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 9

 To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                        ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting part 9 : FRAGILITIES MINE …

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

Fragilities Mine

☘︎ ☘︎ ☘︎

 

  fragility …

What is a life among so many?

the iron wheels of Dalwinni                  

the cold currency of commerce

where there is no time for verse

only the sharp teeth of the crocodile – bared

exposed to the rank and file

caught like brown rabbits in a snare

with an occasional bloody hare

   fragility

Amid the final dance of death

appeared through angels breath

the delicacy of natures fronds

serve well as angel wands

the wind blew, away they flew

the wind that made me strong

a soldier boy his tunic ruddy

furled his hopes and diamonds bloody

 …

   fragility

We ran to meet the fullest moon

to greet a morbid, sorbet sun

sing the stars our saddest, acrid tune

attest the quarantine of mercy

sincerity feeds upon the leanest souls

crows stand both alone and holy

the warmth that only others feel

resting sound in fields of plenty

   fragility

A tattered, outgrown, tainted gown

patched, matched Saint Crispin’s frown

atrophy and disdain like parched earth

applaud the entrance of dew-drop mirth

Anthony salutes the birth, now worthy sleeps

while Dante’s soul inestimably weeps

the bridge of sighs so tender a culvert

salver for this evening’s pater noster

 … 

   fragility

Bees collect their pollen in priestly vests

duty buttoned daily to their blackened chests

faithful volunteers for an Oxfam-army

rent collectors for a parish swarmy

while cavaliers and roundheads storm the gates

exiles and immigrants both Lindisfarne holy

assemble on the tarmac to learn their fates

soldiers of fortune, angels of mercy – all must wait

   fragility

Once more for England, once more for Harold

once more for Michael at the beryl gate

candescent and lonely,

golden hooves shod for a Royale pony

we drank sailors rum, bit Samson’s loyal thumb

lay down to a Dylan muse, till the words ran dry

just the tune played on in our heads by the by

something sweet that made our mother cry!

   fragility

O’ the colonials reduced in the sieve

blended from where once woad-men lived

not pioneers, engineers, men of vision

not mix-raced, mixed persons, minds of decision

only guilty amalgams who tortured braves

evil persons who once profited from slaves

better for them if they’d drowned in the waves

stand up then and wave goodbye to England!

edenbray8today

ref.13072020

⚙︎ 

Posted in edenbray POMES, PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 8 – The dog

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 8

 To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                        ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting part 8 : The dog …

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

dog 2

. . .

The dog

A lecture

..

I’m a dog

I’m a savage dog

A dog that you don’t need

A dog you should not feed

I’m a sad dog

I’m a bad dog

A dog without a tail

I’m a grey dog

I’m a white dog

I’m a black dog

A dog wog

A prairie dog

A dog out on the trail

A dog that still can wail

I’m a rabid dog

A dog full of disease

A dog without a leash                 

Not a love dog

To sit between your knees

Give you all my fleas

If I lay upon my back

You can see my male sack

And tell that I don’t lack

A dog bound to this verse

Stuck within this curse

Riding in a hearse

Impolite and terse

Hang around

– it gets worse!

I’m a tabloid dog

You can read between the lines

I’m a dog that never pines

I never pay my fines

I’m a fierce dog

A wolf-dog

A dog out on the street

A dog with mangy feet

I’m a lone dog

A lost dog

A dog whose on the run

A dog who has no fun

A dog that needs – a gun!

I’m a wild dog

A riled dog

I’d crap upon your floors

Show you then my paws

Right next to my claws!

Fight then for the cause

I’m a mad dog

A dog with a bad grin

A dog thats full of sin

I’m a dog that eats it all

The guts, the legs, the balls

I’m a bold dog

I’m an old dog

I’m a cold dog

A dog thats lost its way

A dog in a manger

A dog who is a stranger

A real lone ranger

Not a farm dog

A sheep dog

Who does what its told

Leads the sheep to the fold

A dog with a bushy tail

I’m a dog you wouldn’t want

A dog out of control

I should live down a hole

I’m a dog

edenbraytoday

ref. 05072020

 

English Dictionary definition : Wail ~ a prolonged high-pitched cry of pain, grief, or anger.

a dog 1

Posted in edenbray POMES, JAZZ POETRY, PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 7 – TWO HAYSTACKS WITH CONVERGING LINES

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 7

 To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                        ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting part 7 : TWO HAYSTACKS WITH CONVERGING LINES..

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

Two Haystacks with Converging Lines

Giant Haystacks

O Albion, O Albion princess among the wolves

Your lithe ways betray your sensuous moves

O Albion, O Albion she lay down in the hay

Her dog-bitch must brought on by a brewers dray

I know I love thee, I love thee more than money

and in the morning we’ll go walking

out on the horizon

we are never coming back

That egg-blue horizon where lost telegraph wires

suffer the same morbid attenuation of a nation

grey lines disappearing

behind two flaxen stacks

It’s hard to believe until you shake the sieve

that all these lines will meet one day

inside the passions murmuration

where only grizzled monsters grieve

 

Converging and concentric lines

the 1,000th part at heavens gate

where even Romulus and Remus wait

Sanctus Paulus et Petrus there conclude

with pious Pope both their parallel fate

This tattooed Isle ~ this tortured Isle

conscience-worn and stricken

attitudes vile, uninformed, yet still uncertain

Where tolerance becomes a dirty word

and love the final treason

Please rush past my window

with your flutter and your pomp

Don’t bother knocking at my door

you will never find me in

Until you bow the knee,

and then confess your sin

Two haystacks stand in the corner of this field

huge obstacles that can be turned to fodder

Two giant haystacks in a field

One said to the other

You are my brother, did you know

We came from the same mother?

The sun had burnt one to black

thus proved it were an older stack

showed against the younger’s gold

that younger was not that old

Or wise, or thoughtful or caring

just spent its evenings staring

What is the weather forecast today ~ cloudy?

What is the forecast for today ~ sun?

What was the forecast for us today – run?

Have we now forgotten how to cry

or forgotten how to laugh?

The golden future of tomorrow

Have we forgotten how to love

or now forgotten how to give?

God opened a stained-blood window

I took an orange from the bowl today

peeled back its orange skin

I tasted fruit so sweet and driven

could not smell its culture’s sin

Farmer came to clear the stacks away

To open up the skyline panorama

Loaded they upon a cart in threes an’ twos

To preclude this allegorical dilemma

Not a hamstrung minister of indecision

Nor repentant priest, no sharp contrition

We nurse the absurdity of change without drama

compose a litany where waters run most deep

While only two things mean anything in this life

God, and your heart, where then should we start?

edenbray8today

ref.21062020

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TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 6 – DON’T TAKE MY RAGE AWAY

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 6

To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting part 6 : DON”T TAKE MY RAGE AWAY

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening edenbray 06.07.2020

Don’t Take My Rage Away

a lament

Don’t fold my rage away

or pull it down

It’s tumult speaks

from out of the ground

The farmer knows

who turns the earth

Those seeds were sown

long before its birth

and since the tillers shanks

cut deep in lethal rakes

The farmer knows for sure

when we’re making new mistakes

The mad dogs bay

its time to be afraid

Democracies shield explodes

when society implodes

All we count most dear

becomes the stuff of fear

Bring back the Beatles

cancel Armageddon

Don’t burn the barn down

with treasure’s inside hidden

Replace the rotting wood

With fresh timber that is good

Mississipi John Hurt, Robert Smalls

Arthur Ashe, Sachmo, Josiah Walls

They’re all down with Kaepernick

in history’s famous huddle

All those lives, deep footprints

In the Frederick Douglass ‘struggle’

James McCune Smith, the Louisville Lip,

Poitier, Sammy Davis, Ralph Ellison

All sculptures for a better world

where respect is earned not takenn

Where children they may gather

and watch the world grow better

Without the stain of mob-rule,

vandalism, violence or terror

In nineteen seventy two

at the behest of my nurse friend Millie

we were invited to her Jamaican wedding

In a church hall deep in Balham

as guests we laughed and danced

and watched events unfold

We learned a different culture

we ate curry, rice n’beans

and shared in people’s dreams

There were gifts and greetings,

prayers and blessings given

and at 10.30 we left for home

We had spoken of a new day

that was coming for people of all colour

that was nineteen seventy two!

..

Stand in the box car

Stand in the tram

Stand on your soap box

Stand eatin’ chitlin’s

and hot, buttered yams

black-eyed peas,

pork chops and dumplings

Stand on your big red bus

Stand on your ladder

to get a better view

Stand with your eyes shut

Stand naked and true

Yes, stand in that history

of change from within

Everything else soon becomes

an unnecessary sin

Don’t muddy the crimson waters

of those who have been brave

On a day trip to Mutiny

with Sandra, Ben and Dave

edenbray8today

ref.15052020

Posted in edenbray POMES, PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 5 : PREDESTINATION ~ the f-in swan!

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 5 

 To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                        ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting the comedy poem : PREDESTINATION – THW F-IN’ SWAN – A Comedy

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

WARNING: REPETITIVE ADULT WORDS!!

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED! – THANKS

.

⚙︎   ⚙︎   ⚙︎

PREDESTINATION

the fuckin’ swan ~ a comedy!

f-ing swan

…   …   ….

 

That fuckin’ swan flew off today

He flapped his wings and went away

..

That fuckin’ swan flew off today

Said goodbye to things

and fuckin’ flew away!

That fuckin’ swan flew off today\

The fuckin’ swan he flew away

He flapped his wings and off he went

No reasons given, no message sent

That fuckin’ swan took off today

That fuckin’ swan he flew away

Those fuckin’ starlings shout and scream

Those fuckin’ starlings get in your dreams

With their shit and their clitter, clatter

Those fuckin’ starlings they nitter, natter

But that fuckin’ swan he flew off today

He flew off to – a brand new day!

That fuckin, swan flew off today

Lifted his wings

Said goodbye to things

Rose up and flew

Into the blue

Said goodbye to all this shit!

Im going to go and live a bit

No message sent, just upped and went

That fuckin’ swan flew off today

That fuckin’ swan flew off today

He flapped his wings and went away

The fuckin’ swan flew off today

He flew off to – a brand new day!

.

⚙︎   ⚙︎   ⚙︎

edenbray8today

Ref. 21052020

… thanks for listening …

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 4 – AN ESSAY

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 4 

 To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                        ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am re-posting the essay : CAN YOU GET THE SUN OUT, WHILE I COME BACK?

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

CAN YOU GET THE SUN OUT, WHILE I COME BACK?

…   …   …

It is amazing the mediocrity that people are prepared to live with. If I stop and think for too long I begin to feel my age, otherwise I’m seventeen years old, I’m still an adolescent, I love loud music, I fantasise on women, I fornicate and I drink too much. I am truly a rebel without a cause. I’m a revolutionary, I swear, and I want to change the world.

The main difference between myself and the actual person I was in 1968 is that were I that same willowy skinhead with a flashing, charming smile, I would not be able to remember all the countless things that I recall throughout each day. How could a seventeen year old recall such vivid memories which sometimes assault me like a cluster of incoming 8 foot surfer waves, relentlessly arriving in my consciousness to disturb me, batter my serenity, only then to carry on, on their own sweet way.

I fear that when these absurd flashbacks confront me they are basically memory-pockets in the brain emptying their precious stored cargo for the final time. I worry that once remembered, all with the utmost clarity and technicolour vividness, precluded by an MGM lion roaring and introduced by ceremonially-clad fanfarers and everything, that those same memory pods which arrive like cement skips on rope pulleys at a brick making site and un-ceremoniously tip out their treasured content, then hang, swinging in space while I hang with them now in a state of exhaustive, nostalgic euphoria; those same memories then deflate like discarded party balloons as the empty, stale air within them eventually disperses and finally those cute little cerebral pods pop and disintegrate leaving me, no doubt about it, shy of yet another brain-cell, unable to recall the original thought at all and at least another half yard further down the leafy lane signposted to Senility. I’m pretty sure not many seventeen year olds ever have to think like that.

The trouble is, that while nearly everyone lives their life by some moral code, some rule of thumb, some inner motivation, be it a word, a faith, pure hatred or a political persuasion, I myself live my life by a relevant but changing life-theme and currently that theme is also the very same preclusion ~ namely, to live by ‘themes’. When your theme of life has become the concept of ‘themes’ themselves, it occurs to me you may be getting close to the ultimate point of no return, hanging in space and time, a bit like that empty cement skip, gently swinging.

I was born at such a moment in the conscious memory of our nation, an era which I guess will be hard for historians to ever chronicle effectively. The normal bullet points historians set against memorable dates tell a different and sometimes confusing tale when seen from the distance of time, especially when compared with the experience of having lived through that era. The memory does not quite match the history and it becomes truly a case of ‘it was better felt than telt’.

There were no wars, pandemics or great industrial breakthroughs to speak of in the time I am speaking of. A couple of assassinations maybe but the technological advances which were soon to surface, although present were still pretty much in the scientists hands, under wraps and therefore well behind the scenes. Landing on the lifeless moon and walking around a bit seemed the most pressing matter but we weren’t up to that bit yet.

It was a time of increased personal freedom, certainly in the west and there was the advent of the leisure industry for ‘the people’ as a society chastened by the discipline and austerity of wartime depravation and unhappiness emerged with its senses heightened and exposed by a new desire to live life as sensationally, sensuously and fully as we could. A generation determined to fill its proverbial boots you might say.

I suppose the best bits one could draw historically from that postwar period of the fifties and early sixties was that attitudes to race were finally being spot-lighted if not necessarily changed and due to the aeronautical advances made in successfully developing WWII fighter planes that had now exited the skies and were being replaced with a new era of affordable domestic air-flights, the golden age of travel to far-flung destinations was beginning and people from all walks of life were starting to explore the globe in a way ordinary people never had before.

Historians will most probably settle for – ‘a time of great social change’ when summing up the era, which palls somewhat in significance for those of us born into it the further we stand back from it, especially when you consider the achievements of past generations, including our parents, that we have been rightly remembering during the recent VE day celebrations.

Survivor of the WWII generation :- O we lived through the horrors of a global war but showed great courage, fortitude and resolve, We learned the value of ‘community’, lived, worked and loved our way through it all making great sacrifices, for the promise of a bright tomorrow.

Survivors of the post-WWII generation :- O we entered an era of great economic wealth, social freedom and personal liberty. We rebelled against our parents values, listened to pop music, had numerous sexual partners, became ‘individuals’ and dropped acid – all for the promise of a bright tomorrow.

That innate human tendency to be dissatisfied with our lot put aside, I am probably being a little harsher than I could be but then only those reading the History of Post War Britain (1950 – 1965) at the University of Cambridge in around 250 years time will properly be able to gauge if I am correct in my assessment or possibly even understand what on earth I am talking about. It might actually be a very short course.

It is no doubt comparisons that cause us most alarm despite Shakespeares pithy observation that they are odious or the wonderful ‘Sir’ Chris Whitty’s assurances that there is little value in comparing stats, seeing as Europe is not recording cases or deaths using – all settings and of course it is certainly true that you can make statistics say all kinds of erroneous nonsense. Writers and journalists can put what ever kind of slant on things they choose as we have all seen during the current pandemic that we are all trying to live through. If you have been following the Daily Press Conferences as I have you will know what I refer to, and if you haven’t – well, where have you been?

This July, my mother if she were still alive would have reached her 100th Birthday and as a family we were hoping to celebrate her extraordinary life together. Obviously that occasion has been postponed due to the expected social restrictions but it occurs to me that had she still been alive it is very likely she would have been in a Care Home and might well have fallen prey to Covid-19’s malicious intentions like so many of that regal generation have. –

How sad would that have been? … How sad must it have been for so many families over these past few months? To see treasured, loved parents and grandparents, many of whom lived through the trials of WWII in such heroic fashion, now succumb to an even mangier foe and be taken from us in such seemingly inglorious circumstances. My heart truly goes out to those people who have my undying respect and heartfelt condolences and yet it occurs to me that maybe once again that worthy generation of over-80’s have paid a price far heavier than those of us who follow in their wake.

Have they, through their tragic, seemingly unfair demise – have they not passed the baton, opened wide a window of opportunity for their descendants – the next generations?! For now, it is us who must live and we have so much to do. Coronavirus has challenged us all to the very core in a way that no human fighting force, terrorist army or inhuman weaponry might have in this 21st Century. A foe born of today – unseen, unheard and naked – Bare face to bare face, it confronts us to stand up and finally give an account of ourselves. To write a chapter of recovery, of renaissance, a chapter worthy of history’s respect To repent of our adolescent past, our sometimes wanton excesses, our indolence and apathy and to finally grasp the nettle with courage and a full character of heart and warmth that the Wartime generation showed us. The generation that Captain Tom, my mother, maybe your mother or father emanated from.

Finally, the generation born in that moment between moments, where hangs that lonely cement skip, swinging in the breeze, a lost heartbeat in history’s vault and which today may symbolise the halted march of progress in time and space that we have all ,lived through, not lost, during this pandemic lockdown. Finally today, we may say we have our moment to make our sons, our daughters, our grandchildren proud and that we like that Wartime generation, finally, may leave our mark, in how we build again the broken wheel of commerce, industry and human exchange and make our country and this world – more caring, less self-centred and on the whole a happier place to live.

writtenbyedenbraytoday20.05,2020

..

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 3 – MISS AMY WINEHOUSE

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 3 – MISS AMY WINEHOUSE

To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! 

I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                  ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am posting the 3rd piece : MISS AMY WINEHOUSE ~ Intermission

. . .

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

MISS AMY WINEHOUSE

Intermission

…   …   …

AMY WINEHOUSE

… …

And who tore the woman’s dress?

Or spoke to the heart of the bonnie gee?

Who glistened like a sap rose drenchéd?

Now that the nights wind hath abated

… …

Where fury settles ~ a gyr falcon

Cold as meat on a granite slab

the singers heart laid out in moments

warm half-notes rising, falling

… …

She sang to me so sweetly

Threw Jackson paint on my ambitions

Rolled paper joints full a’ musto

O Amy tis a shame about the fame

… …

You lit the a-dangerous firework

You didn’t stand alone though

Did not let your baby-love grow

Out the back of a fetid trash-truck

… …

When I caught the blue fever

You were still dancing round the flames

Your hand on the rusty lever

And no one else to blame

… …

Your beauty to me was so startling

Born of a yellow sun-flower golden

Travelling saloon worlds in red-healed shoes

To become the lady who sings the blues

… …

Back to black n’lost in Hackensack

Ho’ lady, walkin’ round the town

Voice as smooth as corn n’crack

On ha’ way down south ta’ N’Arleens

… …

And she could have been that queen

Whose lustre worn in clusters

Draped round her goddam’ midriff

The many hopes she mustered

… …

You feel there’s always people

Whose courage could embolden

Pockets fit to burst an’ swollen

Yet who n’are is carried by the moment?

… …

To watch and wait, not clean the slate

Or tell the girl her awe-filled fate

She so damn perty in her jeans

She so sexy in her blood-red skirt

… …

And all the while them dark angels

Dressed in black they gather at her back

To sing her deepest harmonies

O Amy Amy Amy, O Amy Amy Ameee!

..

 

edenbraytoday

..

Authors Note – I wonder at my own wisdom – to stick this piece that I have been working on for some while, out there – today of all days – while the world rages with Coronavirus whether imagined or real and people cancel this and postpone that – but if we do not live our lives to the fullest each day while not endangering any other life, then surely we disrespect all those who have already died and who fought to live or even survive in any age, or through any war, or within any regime or culture – Our creativity helps to keep us believing, it keeps us aspiring to greatness and to the hard work of attaining excellence.

Young Amy Winehouse maybe was a flawed personality but by no more or less than any one of us, except you might say that as a celebrity she lived her life under the spotlight of prying and intrusive eyes and for this may therefore have carried more ‘privilege’ and responsibility but I don’t know about that. As I understand it and I did not know Amy, she was a master of her craft but maybe not in the area of control. I am certainly no judge, no jury – for me I would say she was just ‘excellent’ and today or any other day that is quite simply – enough!

~ I hope you enjoy my honest tribute to a sensational singer, character and personality who died before her 28th birthday. It is a pity she did not live but then again who does? Amy should have – 15.03.2020

edenbraytoday

.

 

⚙︎

. . .

Dedicated to, with my sincere thanks and appreciation ~ all the brave members of the NHS and other essential workers who have laboured heroically and tirelessly during the Covid-19 pandemid to help us through this traumatic and sad time

. . .

edenbraytoday

⚙︎

Posted in edenbray COMMENT, edenbray POMES, PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

TALES OF THE SWAN-DYKE ~ 2 – OUR WORLD SO SICK!

MY 2ND PUBLICATION OF VERSE!

Tales of The Swan-Dyke

March – July, 2020 – CV-19

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 2 – OUR WORLD SO SICK

To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! 

I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                  ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – today I am posting the 2nd piece : OUR WORLD SO SICK!

. . .

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                                                                        edenbray 06.07.2020

OUR WORLD SO SICK!

…   …   …

FB_IMG_1587821917368

…   …   …

I took a walk today down where the buzzards play

Drifting in and out of the fuzzy clouds golden grey

And the truth they say is all around you,

thinking about it blinds you

Theres always someone to tell you what you ought to know

Shadowed bundles of grass stacked up in a corner of a field

The sun in my eyes consistently strong is orange, out of range

Not everything in our world is sick and sad, dying and strange

Field grasses laid out in rows are green and the river is brown

On the day I decided to write it all down

the disharmony

In a paper book with an elastic band and a few damp pages

I’ve taken to crying a lot lately but it could just be the jar

Or the curtains that wont hang together when its dark

It was an old, mottled, reddish-brown pen, with a golden clip

Like my grandfather would have carried in his inside pocket

Filled from a bottle of blue-black with a rubber topped stopper

The short, tainted lever was hard to pull, stuck fast in its casing

I’m fond of old people they carry our history in a khaki back-pack

Living out their salad days, they tell us stories in different ways

Our world so sick and sad right now is not dying,

Sick like a sailors parrot

There were two buzzards circling above the path where I walked today

I finally got to write it down on the plain, wetted paper

The sun had gone in and the ink ran in the warp and the woof

By this time things like that didn’t seem so important anymore

Not as important as old people dying, not important like that

.

writtenbyedenbray07.05.2020

.

sailors parrot

… sick like a sailor’s parrot

 

⚙︎

. . .

Dedicated to, with my sincere thanks and appreciation ~ all the brave members of the NHS and other essential workers who have laboured heroically and tirelessly during the Covid-19 pandemid to help us through this traumatic and sad time

. . .

edenbraytoday

⚙︎

Posted in PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 1 – THE SENTINEL

COVER - TALES OF SWANDYKE

TALES of the SWAN-DYKE ~ 1 – THE SENTINEL

To celebrate the launch of my 2nd self-published booklet of 11 diverse poems and essays entitled : TALES of the SWAN-DYKE along with Illustrations and Authors Notes – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ! 

I wrote these poems and 1 essay during my COVID-19 isolation and over nearly 4 months

#NOTE ~ please email ME AT:-

stepheneede689@btinternet.com

Alternatively you can post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and I will forward details of how to make payment ~ PLEASE include your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent + PLUS indicate if it is to be a gift.

Many thanks                                                                                  ~ edenbray

TO Celebrate this occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts – starting today with The Sentinel which has been viewed in nearly 100 countries

Foreward to the Publication

In March 2020 at the recommendation of the British Governments Scientific Health Advisers I entered a period of isolation as a ‘shielding’ measure due to my previous and ongoing health issues and to avoid the threat of Covid-19, a dangerous strain of Coronavirus which attacks the respiratory system, especially of older and susceptible, clinically vulnerable persons. The full total of Covid-related deaths will not become clear for some while but it is already huge on a world-wide scale. This pamphlet of verse and writings came out of that period of isolation.

Most of the writings were composed from notes made during daily, long, walks I made in the fields at the rear of our home in Lincolnshire with either Ruth, my wife or on my own. These writings reflect wider concerns over the pandemic itself, national issues that developed during this period such as BLM but also very real and more personal matters concerning growing old, loneliness, our future – plus mental and physical health worries.

This selection from the poignant ‘This World So Sad’ to the more comedic ‘Predestination’ or ‘the dog’ may at times seem controversial, they contain ‘adult’ words but each of these works is important to me in conveying the true ‘feeling’ of the time and together they hopefully capture the full rainbow of human experience. I hope the reader will catch the humour intended as well as the more serious points of reference.

Thanks for listening                                              edenbray 06.07.2020

THE SENTINEL

…   …   …

WW2-German-Wehrmacht-Luftwaffe-M40-Ubermantel-GREATCOAT-2-VERY-NICE-392061410090-2

… … …

Hold hard the grey coated sentinel

Who draws his breath upon faint hope

Of prussian nights and eternal lights

The sentinel knows his task is certain, pure

To ride the faithful stallion named ‘Endure’

….

To ride through mud and human gore

Around the coast of Britains shore

Through valleys decked blood-red golden

Summer sun bids summer days to lengthen

And face this morbid terror with burnished fist

Faces of morning joy emerge as though through mist

Children of a new day born through trial & risk

Birth, tempered now by no techno-squalid season

Our commanders, priests & thinkers meet to reason

Count the cost, pray the night, face another day of loss

This horse, this horse by whose fetlock, hock & hoof

Has stretched each sinew, elbow, flank & cannon

Born its worthy rider forth to carry unfurled banner

Thru streets, the alleys & the moors and on beside the Manor

While proles consort with trolls to cause a minor stammer

Thus people – do step forward then, to a one, without tremor

This sentinel so adored, while brass coffin handles glimmer

Memories so burned, so broken by the wounded page of time

Some feel more than a brother, some drink more then of wine

The object then of war is lost in laughter’s pain, winters frost

The mountain birds surround the evening dell, a private hell

To them unfurls, unfolds to these masters of the carrion well

Death always is the final wave to those we love or try to save

Regret, sadness, a feathered cowel for each the bravest brave

I salute you, I adore you in your weakest momento mio amico!

Button your tunic then O’tired counsellor, leader of our clan

You rode as well as any could & more perhaps than any should

Dismount your steed, attest the greed yet call only heroes fore

To set in tribute store this army to whom we can add no more

The brave, the true, the sure of heart & foot so dressed in blue!

…   …   …

writtenbyedenbray24.03.2020cv-19

this picture says it all!m

 

⚙︎

. . .

Dedicated to, with my sincere thanks and appreciation ~ all the brave members of the NHS and other essential workers who have laboured heroically and tirelessly during the Covid-19 pandemid to help us through this traumatic and sad time

. . .

edenbraytoday

⚙︎

Posted in PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Leave a comment

SCHEMATICS & DIALECTICS

SCHEMATICS & DIALECTICS

Another Tale of the Swan-dyke

can u get the sun out 1

Hey ho! the brown hare jumping out of my dreams

Hey ho! brown hare jumping, leaping – so full of schemes

Lost in a reverie down in the farmers field

No need now for brown hare anymore to shield

Hey ho! the brown hare leaping and scheming

Grey hare, brown hare, he’s the bard of the meadow

an aristocrat of the shire, an intelligent fellow

he’s Puck, he’s a Hamlet. he’s a fine Othelo,

March hare mad, he’s Nicollò Machievelli

 

He’s the Artful Dodger, a free-range lodger,

a ‘rabbit’ you might  even invite to tea

Hey! ho! brown hare down in the farmers field

hopping and dreaming, plotting and scheming

Hey ho! the white owl stuck fast to his tree

and a yellow-beard bobbing like a lost canary

ploughman yellowhammer heard but rarely seen

brown hare working on his hopes and schemes

Hey ho! the brown hare so wise in the morning

wise as a brown owl at new day’s dawning

the buzzard, the owl, the deer and two horses

down by the swan-dyke by the brown water courses

Hey ho! the brown hare jumping with the bees

leaping and scheming, dialectic and free

edenbraytoday

ref. 16072020

the brown hare

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in edenbray POMES, PROG-PROSE, TALES of the SWAN-DYKE | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment