1. WHEREVER I‘M AT
IS SOMEWHERE ELSE
CHARLES MEASURES

2. www.war with words
(a punch up at the poetry factory.)
The problem with words is that they are unreliable. You may think that
you have reached an understanding as to their procurement on the basis
of supply and demand: the right word, in the right space, on the line of
your choosing, at a time that is convenient to you and they decide to go
on strike. “Sorry mate. Poetry. Not much sales potential. Transfer us to the
biography of a Page 3 girl, something with a bit more depth.”
For ‘depth’ read ‘lucrative’. However one is forced to admit, that once
personal terms have been agreed, this would be particularly good news
for the letter E, who would be on overtime rates, whenever the words
silicone, expose and knicker elastic were used. Whereas the letter C’s
unprintable predilections of a more adult, hardcore nature would require
the intervention of ACASS (Adult Censorship against Salacious Syllables).
So your work in progress takes on an unexpected dimension of interpretive
reality, as the words slide off the page and onto the carpet, in a display of
solidarity and then proceed to march in tight formation, spelling, OFF
TO THE PUB. “Don’t even think about hoovering us up mate. We’ll
be up your trouser legs so fast, your body posture will suggest a serious
infestation of nits.” Words can get to you like that and it is difficult not
to take it personally. “Besides, you are not fully accredited to use us. You
have no degree from the University of Typefaces, Words and Translations
(UTWAT).”
Given a moniker like that, I fully endorse Groucho Marx’s suspicions of
joining any club that would have him as a member. One is left with no
option but to tough it out and console oneself, that words, like water,
eventually find their own level. As regards those personal terms, the letter E
might like to consider Elite, Effluent and sometimes, even, Enjoy.

3. Contents
w.w.w. war with words
contents
Cautionary Tales.
The House Rules
Makeover At The Last Resort Salon
As You Walked Out
Show Me The Skid-marks
Beware Of Low Flying Aircraft
The Audient
The Audient
Return Of The Audient
Prime Time Fodder
The Audient Advises The Leotard Queen
Whatever You Are Into
Focus-Hard
Lap Dancers
Waiting For The Tram
The Kid
…. and one for the pot
What Will You Fall For?
Epiphany At The Supermarket
Bullet Points For A Sermon
State Your Case
Wherever I’m At Is Somewhere Else
Wherever I’m At Is Somewhere Else
(A-Side) “Don’t go out without some product.”
(B-Side) “One.Two. Welcome to pain.”
Searching For The Elephant
Whose Kingdom Comes?
Whose Kingdom Comes?
The Son Of God Contemplates The Lyrics Of Stairway To Heaven
The Son Of God Reviews The Lyrics Of In My Time Of Dying
Self Pity Blues
I Keep The……….Whatever
II The Low Down
R.S.V.P.
ENG. LANG. AS U LYKE I.T.
G.C.S.E. English Language (Alternative Poetry Paper)
Questions
Answer 1) Delete Where Inapplicable Blues
2a) A Kynge Of Yore Fancies His Chances
2b) Ready For My Accident Mr. De Mille
3) End Of Term Report
The Author Signs Off
A Man’s Got To Do
To be continued
Let’s Do Lunch
After Hours

4. The House Rules
It was a spiffing wheeze, to escape
the purgatory of down time
in the sermon,
dragging on through evening vespers,
with ‘spliff to go’ from the vestry,
to be delivered
on the vicar’s scooter,
from each supply of kneelers stashed
with the darkers,
in the cassocks’ cupboard.
A nice little earner for the choristers,
to supplement the restoration fund
and the spire’s unusual leaning
towards the Northern Lights.
The changing hymn board numbers,
a covert exposition
of the quantity in each drop
and the additional bags for each collection
unequated with the giving
of the attending flock.
The parishioners unaware of who
was now on high,
as “cave-ee” registered in high falsetto
from the look out in the tower.
Something was going down,
faster than the eventide was falling,
whilst the local constabulary approached,
to plod amongst the congregation.
Christened ‘the church of St. Columbia’,
in the local trade,
the incense burning, as the cover up
of this a.k.a.,
was not an offering pleasing to the Lord,
who was not one to take things
lying down,
or indeed, take such things at all.
The snuffer angel was dispatched,
to go ahead and ‘make His day’,
the one that He had made,
to rejoice in
and be glad
that His house was built,
upon the stone,
which the builders had rejected,
not a Class C foundation donated
by the stoned.
A for Adam
and now for the ‘administration’
The Book was open
at anti trust
violations inside the family
who took the fall
and force of heel and toe
for conspiring with a mouth
piece charging on an infinite scale.
Those waiting on probation
would go down

5. to an eternity on remand,
if to be ‘wise’ was only to be made a prefix
for promoting ‘guys’ from the choir
into the crew.
Consider the Doobie Brothers.
If robed in glory, and unceasing in their exhortations
to ‘Listen to The Music,’
would not professional haircuts have made it easier
to see the light?
Makeover
At The Last Resort Salon
The Emporium of The Pampered Pussy
was not a rendezvous
for meeting minds from Mensa,
across the road from the Punch and Judy show,
where the rinse of tide
slurped the mud pack and blubbered seal,
dredged along the front.
Beehive hairdos, styled to match a bargain
bucket aspiration, were in danger of collapsing
like sandcastles with seaweed extensions, mangled
in the battlements,
and the weekly ‘Salvage Special’ of price
cut facials, to include re-pointing with the slap
of a foundation trowel,
were robbing the blind behind their sunglasses
and counterfeit intelligence.
But she needed to get away from it all
and herself, mutton dressed as mutton,
and before you could say,
“Kiss Me Quick.” or ask, “Can sun lotion be applied,
from the rising slick of oil oozing from the greasy spoons?”
she walked in, to be ponced upon
and resurrected,
to hit the streets,
as road kill.

6. 10 11
As You Walked Out…….
You were looking good,
too deep to fathom in those shades,
which kept the daylight at bay.
From a distance the camera boys thought
to trust their intuition and pocket their speed-dials,
locked on Code 10-31
and go with the flow of humanity passing
over the gateway,
as you pulled your weight into shot.
A black leather profile, with no I.D.
to check out, against the visual
clues of those considered ‘most likely to…’
Go for some over/under action on a pusher,
waiting for the drop,
or a hard rocking dude with time
to kill, before showtime
and the moves that would make him famous:
to strike out against the Chord and blow
the good people away.
“Not a mainstream sort of guy,” you alone
would know what was going down,
your long, brown hair blowing in the wind,
unlike the answers that had left
no exit for the eye:
the golden key that did not reach you
in the mail,
to spring the lock of an abandoned cell
and the treasure map that never was
in that upturned box of morning cereal.
No standing count from 1-10
to hear the flutter of approaching wings
that might bear you up
towards the Angel Isle.
A four second frame was all it took,
for you to close your eyes
and burst through the membrane of water.

7. 12 13
Show Me The Skid-marks
Should I check for skid-marks,
in the driver’s seat?
You haven’t been there,
revving between the ratios of your low polar
moments of inertia.
Your published word protests,
“I was really going quite fast, actually,
in my solitary game of chicken, through the vacant darkness
along the better county roads.”
Haute cuisine phrases to titillate
the palette of those who could not stomach
visions of a hound from Hell,
hot upon the trail,
but would indulge a Chihuahua
from Cruft’s,
scampering at the heel:
a house trained little devil
to release
for polite applause and a walkie
on the wild side,
with the writers circle, after biscuits
and a decaf.
Keep it real.
It takes balls, or some front to put out
the lights and invoke
the soundtrack of the night to sleep,
with one eye open,
or both,
should you remove your top
and set up the local boys for a late night
take away of sweet and sour, spiced up
with the aroma of shredded
rubber.
Are you hot
wired for speed-dating,
as you gun the gas,
in your pimped up ride, to fuse
in with the slipstream
and backdrop of the shadows?
Then morph at midnight
to thunder drumming in the monolithic
movement of a monster,
favoured by the Chechnyn rebels:
one Godzilla of a mother
truck, with ‘Terra’ tyres fitted
to crush lampers
and fell pylons across acres
of the national grid.
Airbag
is the only feature not going spare,
on the custom list of options
you are rapidly running out of
on the street,
where your grip is paper thin.
Terms and conditions apply,
to lower my suspension of disbelief,
when you put your foot down
and claim the flowers I will leave,
against the roadside cross.

8. 14 15
Beware of Low Flying Aircraft
It is a bad trip,
when the pilot is higher
than the plane
h
e
f
l
i
e
s

9. 16 17
The Audient
You remain on the level,
as your spirit sinks,
lower than the silhouette of rooftops
and chimney pots,
a black and blue facade
of brick ambivalence and a night time
standing still.
On standby,
the candles flicker, like landing lights
across the spread of tables.
The floorboards creak, refusing to give up
the ghosts of yesterday’s late arrivals
when you notice a matchstick
withdrawn from the pile on the table by the door,
your solitary take
on a token gesture, to offset against the cost
that demands you pay your dues.
The intrigue of my name proves an equal draw,
as you approach my corner,
with your soft shoe shuffle and leveraged smile
to keep on rolling with the show.
I will, of course, take each word and phrase
I hear, personally,
should I so choose.
There are no other tongues to argue
otherwise spare me
the routine of, “Don’t go
changing” in the break.
One thumbs down and I can walk,
to leave you
dying, that much quicker,
where you stand.
Remember, ‘For one night only’,
I am
all you’ve got.

10. 18 19
Return of the Audient
Face the music dude,
your fans have had to
fortify themselves, since the days
of Watneys Party Seven on an intravenous drip
was the thinking man’s alternative
to failing,
as a football hooligan.
As the old adage, stuck on wrecking balls
and station wagon rear ends, so succinctly puts it,
“Shit Happens” and tonight’s the night,
to “queue the do-do”
from the dry ice machines
and recycle nitrogen across the stage.
No need for scratch and sniff when you know
what’s coming at you.
Steamin’ is the word to introduce
this visual clue of curried eggs and baked bean special,
in la Poopoo Bombe Surprise,
where previously such texture was in aural format
only to enhance with realism,
the signature tone that is
Edward Van Halen’s
‘Brown Sound.’
Your tribute to EVH was pure flash
in the pan and your solo runs
cleaned up with the daily papers’ rush releases,
“Laxative Kid in the dumps. Two weeks on the trot.”
The scuttlebutt blew down town, you had finally run
out of gas, in a late night curry blow out
and were laid to rest in the bottom
of your 4x12,
in the great rehearsal studio in the sky.
And yet, no front page scoop,
to probe if you had engaged the follow through
of no return,
or merely left the building incognito,
when you let it rip,
with a blast from your past.
The truth will out, or does it only just
repeat, with a touch of slap-back echo as you sound-check,
in an empty hall?
The finger tapping exercises on your scalloped
board before you get on
and I who also cannot wait for the show,
to end and for you to get off.
Still, let’s play this by the book,
‘101 New Uses For A Truss Rod,’ to be precise.
I need go no further than No 2,
for a plank-spanker that never made it
tight but loose.
If you would be so kind, as to assist,
by bending over,
I cannot promise you will not feel a thing,
but once the insertion is complete,
I can guarantee
that you will reach forever that part,
from where your sound has always come.

11. 20 21
Prime Time Fodder
(for the armchair talent scout)
No lad, honestly,
you must resist the temptation,
to sing
the ballads of Meatloaf,
though for one so short in years,
truly you have the frame
of a well developed heffalump,
which can fill a screen,
more than your talent will
ever fill a room.
The Audient Advises the Leotard Queen
Does the camera give……the fuller picture
of your intensive thigh action?
A biological workout, stripped down
to exercise
the gushing pens of hacks,
with one hand free to “work that remote.”
The routine
Forward Back Pause Forward Back and Hold It
just there “I like it” Reviews.
Then Repeat 10 times,
to reassure you of the profile you still cultivate,
each time you create a song and dance.
Consider dental floss, as an alternative
endorsement to compliment your royalty
cheques, in your portfolio
of advancing years:
spread returns
from working your butt to opening
your mouth
and not your legs, for a target
market that will subscribe
blind loyalty
to underwrite the shares
in your divinity.

12. 22 23

13. 24 25
Focus-Hard
It’s a lonely job
flashing,
with pre-mediated intent,
but someone has to
get the jump
on members of an unsuspecting public.
A hand held conviction in self
absorbed promotion,
with the triggered rise of points
to be clocked
from each focused image, shrinking
with the rear
view into the distance.
Lap Dancers
Full
audited uplift.
Presented bare
face
cheek
by the ‘Rather’
phew
to touch so many
for so much.
Suspense in the balance
sheets.

14. 26 27
Waiting For The Tram
The afternoon was closing,
resigned
to the grey drizzle
descending
on the hopeful shoppers
waiting
for the tram
and Saturday night.
Expedition trophies bagged, at the bargain hunters’ feet,
the clink of bottles in the line up, promoted
to football highlights and the wife’s game plan
to bring on her new little number,
as the final whistle blew.
The overspill of designer labels to be paraded,
once the clubs had shut.
Through the newsagent’s window,
the carousel’s dwindling spin
catches an old man,
whose arms barely reach
the top shelf, to sift the indices
of cellophane and bottom drawer preferences.
The vacant admission, from behind the counter
that they had seen it all before
the till registered
the solitary walk, back
to the curtains drawn and the light bulb,
with no shade,
to begin thumbing pages and auditioning
those women.
The Kid
Feral, still embedding, in his eyes
you would not trust him,
to bring back your daughter, on time,
though on tempo he can pull
together a wasted veneer of Rolling Stone
to re-define satisfaction, should he
ever get it.
Cocksure strut before the mirror,
with low riding jeans and underwear endorsement
riding higher
than his would be position
in the charts,
lip-service is all he pays, “to take it easy.”
Once he takes the converse tread across the boards
to flick the standby
into overdrive as the jack plugs in,
he wrings the neck.
Repeated down-strokes shred
each number in the shapes he throws.
His shadow strikes the forward rush
of outstretched hands.
Who can touch him now?

15. 28 29
….. and one for the pot.
Wanting it large,
watch out
for the love hunter, baby,
prowling in the mid-day sun:
a maximum beef-bus of prime English
virility, smouldering with intent,
to bag those bedroom eyes, in the afternoon
(of my later years.)
Who’s going down in this righteous stakeout
with the Main-man cutting loose,
hot and on the scent?
My woman can always stop me in my tracks
and satisfy the animal
in the soul of a hard lovin’ man.
“Nice cup of tea dear?
Let’s take the Battenberg and muffins
and sit together,
under the parasol on the lawn.”

16. 30 31
Epiphany At The Supermarket.
So there you are, my friend,
the messiah resurrected for the 40th anniversary
edition with bonus tracks and the DVD:
a cut out length of proposition, rising above the rack.
The pose, the poise, the leather trousers that knock
bare-chested imposters off the stage
for a touch up with reality
in the mosh.
Where are you hanging out these days
of self imposed exile
from the publicity of your over exposure
and the band scoring hate
on notes slipped between the backline and the affront
to headline testimonial?
The washed out tyre tracks to the roadhouse
where the neon bickers
in contempt against the sky.
In an upper room, the old timers, that remain, barter
history and liquor as undiluted
as the time when the force in numbers spoke
to defy the guns
and draw the line from which flames were sparked,
to spook the cities and smoke the lie
that “It can’t happen here.”
Under new management,
let him who would be A- List trade the limo for a mule
and clothe himself in shrink wrap to embrace
a new betrayal: identity forfeit
in a bar code, to secure a digital conversion.
Subject to heavy rotation
and file Icon under surveillance.
Encrypt those records of the unreleased
numbers locked up in the can.
Do not ask what your country can do for you, but rather
do not question at all.
It’s democracy as usual for The Man
piling limbs and dog tags
in the corner of someone else’s yard.
To protect liberty, simply press ‘delete’.
Watch. Who’s counting
as we go down slow to the check out,
under the camera’s eye?

17. 32 33
Bullet Points For A Sermon
The text: And the Lord said (something like), “Jonah has gone AWOL.
Requisition some submarine transportation to facilitate the completion of
his mission to Nineveh.”
To preach Good News
and shoot parishioners on the way
to church, is a dichotomy
between pastor and patrol as to how goodwill
is to be escorted across the fundamentalist divide.
A little payback on the return is a more viable
proposition: less high profile to conceal
under wraps
with the bad news families bury every day.
.………………..
In the wanderings of his faith,
the patriarch left the curse of idols,
to cut the covenant in blood
and be proved righteous by the deed.
A new act brings patriots,
behind the tracks of armour-plated Abrams’.
These gentiles who return,
bear currency printed with God’s name,
in their year of shock and awe A.D.
Allied Democracy to lift the curfew
and the vengeful prayers
of those who would take a baby’s head,
to smash against a wall.
………………….
Turned inside out, the truth will not wash,
or set the captive free,
as market force and prophecy conspire,
with the pedlars on the street,
to create a one size fits all slogan
and cover up,
no matter where the electrodes burn
the imprint into the skin.
………………
Cross reference Angel with Apache,
as they hover in the sky
and their role play interchanges,
to protect each prayer
that still ascends in convoy
along the route of Jacob’s Ladder.
Whose descendants will stake their claim
to be as dust
of the earth, mere fallout,
whilst blown out buildings level
into landfill,
crushed bulk and bone?
………………….

18. 34 35
What the Lord gives the Ali Babas take away.
Not 30 pieces of silver,
but one hundred times that weight in cashback,
to redeem a lifetime offer, exclusive
of guarantees, before a Kalashnikov
registers a deal breaker
in the head.
Are there holes punctured in the story,
as there were the hands and side?
A flaw that will not reconcile the plot,
which each insurgent strike will claim?
To everything there is a season,
as the cart wheels turn and the donkey
labours packing heat.
The hidden charges no hotel will deny
leaves them that more open
for business, than the clientele would prefer.
The compass swings to way-marks
and distant cries,
from the delivery that once brought
the unborn child to the stable
of the inn.
…………………..
Two millennia later,
are the wise men nearer to the star,
as their diplomatic shuttles transcend daily
the camels’ resolute strides,
which still plot their course, with each foot
grounded firmly in the sand?
With each agenda brought down
to earth, as the corkscrew turns
through 45 degrees,
these new ambassadors present only questions,
Which Way? What Truth? Whose Life?
to rewrite the litanies of history.
………………….
Before the final analysis of the One
who keeps the score
and decides when stumps are drawn,
how many will play the game
in the spirit,
with a bat held straight?
On a need to know only basis,
enter the house of ‘Bob’ pitched in its sanctuary
around the cricket green
and seek in earnest the fine art of mediation
and all things universal:
the unassuming truth that lies sorted,
on a dusty shelf.
One copy of the Bible, Debretts and Wisden
to restore Eden’s ‘Green Zone’
and pleasant land.

19. 36 37
State Your Case
Can you forswear the distance that has brought you
to brush the dust off from your clothes,
where the last bell hangs silent in the tower
and the tongues of rumour remain?
Do not speak to me, in words, or offer up a sign,
when no direction grants the right to counsel.
What price to open up the book and write the answers
in the darkness from where you came?

20. 38 39
Wherever I’m at is Somewhere Else.
(The A-side: out)
“Don’t go out, without some product.”
(Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri?)
Behold the vosened ones,
those fair of locks and lanky length,
across their pimple-punctured facial features:
a rite of passage performed with oxy
Acetylene and a blow torch to prove their manhood,
when once a dragon’s fiery breath crimped hair
and made redundant blow dries.
Offer it up for the crop of outspan medium beauties:
the marauding maidens and Eye-Hump
Monthly exhibitionists, all bronzed and radiant with the afterglow
from a heavy factor overcoat,
as hard to crack
as the sealant from a can of decking oil.
Ave! Festival veterans overdubbing
something Grecian in the mix of ashtray grey
and reduced hair deficiency syndrome tied back in a tail.
Brimstone black T Shirts taut against the ‘tubbular rotundis’ overhang,
buttressed up by belt buckles,
marked with skulls and displaced confederate flags.
(Will it be more than oven temperature when the anti-Christ appears
in the local Asda,
with the discount vouchers to be redeemed,
against each purchase of Diablo frozen pizza?
And if the South will rise again,
will the rebel flag once more be raised,
beyond the river where they carry ‘shooters’
in postal districts both South East and West,

21. 40 41
to whip those booties of the Northern scourge beyond
the Watford Gap?)
Are these volumisers and denin druids who measure up
to decibels and pints of house brew spilt
down their distressed leather jackets,
portrayed in their true likeness,
or just an artist’s mere impression in the interests
of security and Health and Safety regulations,
to banish lightning
outside the backstage door, when it’s time
for lighting up?
(The B-side: inside out)
“One.Two. Welcome to pain”
(Mindless Self Indulgence: £12 on the door)
After Forever
tomorrow will bring the Pain of Salvation
and the reality check of stacking shelves,
with the over dues on the rent.
Where will they be when you need them,
the dark gods you summoned,
with two horned gestures through the Walls of Doom,
in your quest to be invincible and the force
you felt, as 10 pints of lager kicked in
your mental superiority,
to dispatch you the Way of All Flesh
for a late night kebab on the High Street?
The hardcore realization that a Mutiny Within
your innermost being was filling the cracks
in the pavement,
as the paramedics arrived to witness
your prostrate body art posturing
in street defining homage to a Cradle of Filth.

22. 42 43
‘Searching For The Elephant.’
No previous
for running guns across the Mexican border,
or, come to think of it, along the county line,
where Surrey abuts the badlands of the Sussex prairies.
I carry
no Colt 45
to shoot a crap game in the crucibles
of Crawley.
I have no horse to ride
like I stole it
from a one horse town
where a hat trick of hookers hustle
the highway in Horsham.
And I bear no sheriff’s badge
to bust wide open
a bordello
in the backstreets of Bognor.
No escape
back to the edge of Eden
on that midnight train from old El
Paso,
only the slow coaches stalling with the milk train from Effingham junction
shunting yard.
Fast forward to future happiness and Croydon
in the rear view mirror.
Still no Dodge to pick up Moonshine
with the back roads liggers
on the run from Dorking down to Dryhill,
along the Medway Delta to the Maidstone Mardi Gras.
Just a cavalry charge of Harleys and Mustang fastbacks
in the rear.
The week end outlaws from the city
trying to outrun,
not the Gatlings but the Gatsos.
Fast is good,
when one’s juice is running out and time
is written off,
but accurate is better,
on the draw,
before the sidewinder strikes.
No wanted posters,
but a sneaking suspicion of surveillance,
not with cause, but just in case…….
the target figures won’t add up
and to take down some ‘good ole boys’ will square it,
with no questions asked.
Break with the past
and rewrite the Battle of the Bloody Porch,
with the grey suits of the underachievers
and the po-faced elect pushing prams,
piled with plunder from the peasants,
getting what they deserve.
‘All down
but nine’
and the Nine
lukewarm
carrion
chilling out.

23. 44 45
Only blood
to wipe from the guns
and go on the scout
for some other chickens
to play
roulette.
As the corral dust clears,
a stranger rides, with the Sun behind his back:
a dead ringer
for a forgotten face that never lost
against a loaded deck.
Do not mess with him, before he spits
into the earth,
or even worse,
upset his mule.

24. 46 47
Whose Kingdom Comes?
Matthew 2:2-3
… Some men who studied the stars came from the east to Jerusalem and
asked, “Where is the baby born to be the king of the Jews? We saw his star
when it came up in the east, and we have come to worship him.” When
King Herod heard about this, he was very upset, …
‘Peace’ is a whisper in the tyrant’s ear,
to trouble sleep
and confiscate the nightly dreams
that should lie
so sweet upon the silken pillow.
Soothsayer!
Shred the sacred page
of prophecy that raises spectres
and pretensions of a child born king
against a conscience sinking deep,
deep as blood
that will not drain with the slime
from the fortress moat.
Cut to the chase and pursue deliverance,
as decreed
by the prerogative of force.
With a master stroke, the horses ride
and soldiers draw their swords,
to kill the scene
and bring the curtain down.
By royal command
of the usurper on the throne,
“Boys will be Boys,”
no more as they fall in line with birthdays.
Present and correct, strike one.
Strike two years old.
……………….
How hallowed is this Jerusalem and the vision
set in stone, to rebuild the temple’s glory,
secure within the city walls,
where the King of the Jews denies his trespasses
and the money changers’ craft profanes the holy ground?
Stay not the royal hand
that cuts no slack with the backstabbers
in the palace corridors, but concedes to tithe
a slice off from the action, besides
the heads that roll across the dungeon floor
and from the heirs asleep in the royal bed.
The expedience of sacrifice will make straight the way,
to nail the sovereign name
and pass curses down on children’s heads,
when the Morning Star arises and the people cry
“We have no king but Caesar.”

25. 48 49
The Son Of God
Contemplates
The Lyrics Of Stairway To Heaven
In The Garden Of Gethsemane
If there were two paths you could go by,
I would buy time
and sleep on it.
The Son Of God
Reviews
The Lyrics Of In My Time Of Dying
From The Cross
Who dies easy,
if they gamble at my feet
when angels march above?

26. 50 51
Self Pity Blues
I. Keep The ….. Whatever
When life has taken more chunks out of you
than there are in a Yorkie bar
and there is nothing left,
but some late night action,
picking up the price reductions
off the shelves,
down the supermarket on a Saturday night.
Remember to keep the ….. whatever,
like an old dog being dragged out for a walk,
before finally being put down.
II. The Low Down
I woke up this morning, sort of
going down slow.
Did I wake up this morning? Maybe,
I just don’t know.
If the Lord sent His chariot,
I’d be too blue to go.
Heard the Lord say, “Call out
My name, if you want to be blessed.”
Heard the Lord say, “Boy, it’s time
to confess.
Who are you going to turn to,
when it’s easier to stay depressed?
You’ve got a one way ticket and two directions
you can ride.
You’ve got a one way ticket, there’s no way
you can’t decide,
to put it all on me,
or let it slide,
over the black water where the owl
calls your name,
over the black water and no one else
to blame.
It will be too late to ask,
who puts a shovel in the flame?”

27. 52 53
R.S.V.P.
To be young enough for death,
to be no more
than a box
to tick, as an optional extra.

28. 54 55
G.C.S.E. English Language
(Alternative Poetry Paper)
Questions:
1) You have got the Blues. Write a blues song, showing that you
understand the original blues format and the psychology behind the lyrics
but place it in a more contemporary context.
2) Imagine your school drama department taking part in a C.C.F. 1st
Aid exercise in which one, or two, Ford vehicles have been deliberately
‘crashed,’ so that the cadets can practice their medical skills in an
emergency situation.
Candidates may choose a scenario in which either one, or two, vehicles are
involved. Where there is only one vehicle, the driver must be female, but
where two vehicles are involved, only one of the drivers need be female.
Write two poems suggesting that one of the male cadets may have strong
feelings for the female driver to whom he is administering his medical
attention:
a) in the style of Old English, illustrating your broad sweeping
knowledge of the history of English literature.
b) in a contemporary vernacular that suggests street credibility with a
hint of bling.
• Both these poems should contain a subtle reference to the make of
Ford involved.
• Female candidates attempting this question may change sex if they
prefer.
3) In poetic form write your own end of term report outlining your
progress and artistic direction as a poet.
Turn Over

29. 56 57
Time Allowed:
For Question 1) The needle time of any three blues recordings of your
choice. Additional time will be permitted for changing over 78s and 45s,
but please bring your own record players and extension leads. Any recording
deemed by the invigilator to have been recorded by a pseudo-blues artist,
which usually includes one of the following names, Snake, Death, Orange,
Licorice and Washington will be asked to leave the examination hall.
For Question 2a) The length of any CD recording of one work by a
classical composer of your choice, or Rick Wakeman.
For Question 2b) The running time of one CD recording by one of the
following artists: The Kaiser Chiefs, The Fratellis, The Kooks, or Vampire
Weekend. In an extreme medical situation Amy Winehouse may be
admitted. Bonus tracks, or special editions are not permitted under any
circumstances.
For Question 3) Give the invigilator a ticket for Glasto and the candidate
will be permitted as much time as required to complete the paper.
Answer 1) Delete Where Inapplicable Blues
I woke up this morning/
Two weeks late/ In time for Happy Hour/ Live on Crime Watch/
To find my woman had gone/
Was still here/ Was on that eastbound train to Cromer/ Still shopping in
Lidl’s/
So now I’ve got the Blues/
A brand new Hoover/ A manifestation of poetic intuition in the silent
vortex of didactic vernacular and a CD review in Exchange and Mart.

30. 58 59
Answer 2a) A Kynge Of Yore Fancies His Chances
(with a damsel in distress)
“Oh sweetest frippery that doest summon
the blessed wind of vicissitude,
to buffet codpieces in the crumple zone.
See, what transport of delight breaks
with sudden purpose,
to run aground the sandebagges of saundry
army surplus
and fling forth such an apparition,
let loose in waftiness and full sail
from the very seat of Heaven,
that the orbs of my sight may swell
and pixilated soul profess redemption,
until the hourglass, upended,
brings such charades and festive japes to close,
in the quarter of an hour.
How fareth the wench?”
“She liveth my liege, she liveth,
though verily her raiment is well pasted
with red sauce
that much besmircheth her comely shape
and posture springing.
Her complexion rivalleth, in fashion most stryknge,
the river Ouse, when sunk to its lowest ebb
and reaches of the tidal flow.”
“Then forsooth,
apply your necessaries post haste,
to restore lustre to her cheeks
and buff her up a treat.
But a pox be on the carriage of superannuation:
a monocoque
disembler that would feign
the role of ESCORT
and charge toward the sanctity of our persons,
in grievous manner and vindictive suit,
to then spew forth the vilest form of chav
and offend with utterings,
as bent as axle
articulation in the lowest trough of earth.
Henceforth, my noble paladin,
raise high your banner of the Red Cross
and proclaim 1st Aid and St George.
Draw out your cotton buds and tear off
the strips of lint, to plug the orifice
that rant and blasphemy may cease
from so base a creature,
and I may then, perchance those lips
O’honey and lem(on) sip,
as her countenance restores
when the tide once more rolleth in.”

31. 60 61
Answer 2b) Ready For My Accident Mr. De Mille
Trolley doll honey
hush
you so crashed
like
strategically parked
right
on the verges of my expectation
to wannabe a spin off
on man oeuvres with you,
rebel army ‘gel’
in lustrous boho kit:
fatigues
endorsed with ketchup decals
and serious commitment to chocolate
brown tan
talisingly close to camouflage
in the shrubs.
Fire lighter
Day-glo lips igniting
a fusion of powder
puff
and crucial bling:
a controlled explosion
detonated
under the mushroom cloud
of your blow dried hair.
Supreme FOCUS model
dashboard dookie diva
through the open door to the wind
screen test
of 1st Aid exercise chic.
Slow-mo action
replay
of my quickening response
time.
I did not remember to take your pulse,
but watched your chest
moving
in and out
to check that you were breathing.
You most certainly were.
Solid rush
to fan the pages of Aid – Zeal,
resting under ‘R’ for resuscitation
and the recovery position,
to bring you round, to my way of thinking.
As I moved closer to administer
the Kiss of Life,
your eyes opened,
miraculously
you came alive.

32. 62 63
Answer 3) End of Term Report (What is he like?)
He continues to make steady progress
towards consolidating his individual calling.
Not for him the dedication of saving Mother Earth,
or the resourceful sensitivities to protect
the bee, as its population dwindles,
but still a tender gardener,
with a more contemporary focus,
in his JCB that arrives with his clarion call,
“Okay people, let’s rotovate and then slab it.”
File
Quit Author*Q
Edit View
New *N
Open *O
Close *O
Save *S
Save As
The Author signs off…

33. 64 65
A Man’s Got To Do
I must go down to Cobham
and do manly things in the town.
I don’t know what it is exactly,
so I just drive round and round.
I flirt with the engine a little,
to keep up the revs and the noise,
like Steve McQueen in Bullitt,
on V8 muscle and alloys.
With my hands on the wheel
at a quarter three,
though it’s only half past ten,
I drive myself here, so I can go there
and then come back again.

34. 66 67
To be continued……..
“The nomination of Charles Measures for the position of Professor of
Poetry at Oxford University would be as welcome as a monster truck
parking on the Dean’s croquet lawn.”
Anonymous Poetry Spokesperson.
“Lacrimae rerum. Stercus accidit.”
Charles Measures.

35. 68 69
( when the royalty cheques come in)
A massive thank you to my good friend Richard Lawrence for the generous
gift of his time, to once more come up trumps with all the artwork to help
me bring to life the visual aspect of this book and for all the meticulous
detail necessary to complete the final layout ready for submission.
Thank you also to Robert Norbury for the use of his photograph for the
front cover. I strongly recommend his excellent website, in particular
his skillful and evocative use of black and white photography, at www.
robertnorbury.com
I would also like to thank the following for all their support and
encouragement, as I undertook “my new direction man.” Richard
Chapman for penning the kind words for the back-cover, Darren Poole,
Richard West, Phil Lloyd, Oli and Clive “remember us when you are
famous” Harrris, Neil Davis, and all those at Mole Valley Poets.
And finally, a big thank you to my son James for his listening ear and for
showing the wisdom of Solomon when confronted with some of my more
wayward ideas.

36. 70 71
The House Rules (pages 6-8)
Background
The starting point for this poem was when a friend of mine, a professional
fund raiser, asked me for some original ideas for fund raising for a church
project he was involved with. Feeling somewhat frivolous at the time, I
replied, off the cuff, “What about spliff to go from the rectory? That would
tap a hitherto unused resource, as well as guaranteeing an unparalleled
income revenue stream.” I exercised a modicum of self control from
getting completely carried away with the creative flow and refrained from
mentioning my idea for an accompanying slogan, “Can you say no to
Spliff to go?” Obviously, apart from the moral ramifications, there was
the technical drawback that for such a resolution to be passed by the local
P.C.C. (the parochial church council) and then to be endorsed by the local
boys in blue, there would have to be major change in the mindset of both
the government and Lambeth Palace. And there would still be the not
inconsiderable final hurdle of approaching the Almighty for His personal,
divine ratification. The odds on such a deputation returning in anything
than a highly barbecued state would not be great.
Sometime later, I remembered from my college days in the mid 1970’s
when a friend of mine went to a fancy dress party dressed as a clergyman.
On route he pulled in at a petrol station, which had just closed. In those
days few filling stations remained open beyond 6:00 p.m. Knocking on the
kiosk door, he was told, “Sorry mate, we are closed.” Not to be defeated, my
friend pointed to his dog collar and exclaimed, “But I’ll be late for evening
vespers.’ To this he received the reply,” Give me a minute Father and I will
open up for you.”
From this personal reminiscence, my mind went from ‘vespers’ to ‘vespa,’ a
make of motor scooter, and the beginning of this poem was under way.
……………….
the darkers: sunglasses
“cav-ee”: misspelling not withstanding, derived from the Latin ‘cavio’ to
beware.
The Northern Lights: a particularly strong form of Cannabis produced in
Holland. It is also used in scientific research as to whether it contains any
medically beneficial properties.
Snuffer: snuffers are referred to in 1 Kings 7:50. These were used for
putting out the ten lamps standing in front of the innermost room (the
Most Holy Place) in the Temple built by King Solomon.
Class C: depending on different police and government initiatives, the
classification of Cannabis alters between B and C. At the time of writing
this poem Cannabis was a Class C drug, but it was to be later reclassified as
Class B.
In 2009, the divergent views on this reclassification were to make national
headlines when the government’s chief advisor on the Advisory Council on
the Misuse of Drugs, Professor Nutt, was dismissed by the Home Secretary.
Professor Nutt had publicly stated that the way scientific evidence was
collated suggested that alcohol and tobacco were more dangerous than
some classified drugs and that reclassifying cannabis to a higher category
had increased its cachet to potential users. Presumably there was panic in
the Treasury that in the light of such revelations Quantative Easing might
have to be introduced to make up the shortfall of takings at the House
of Commons bar. As yet there are no confirmed reports of any proposed
motions to restock the Commons bar with something to create an ‘aura of
mellowness’ during those long all night parliamentary sessions.
The Book was open: synonymous with the Day of Judgement, Revelation
21:12-15.
………… Books were opened, and then another book was opened, the book
of the living. The dead were judged according to what they had done, as
recorded in the books……….
Whoever did not have his name written in the book of the living was
thrown into the lake of fire. (Good News Version)

37. 72 73
Somewhat removed from the Final Day for submitting fully completed
returns and Divine accountancy procedures, the phrase for books being
opened is applied when there is a vacancy for someone to be ‘made’
a member of a crime Family. Unsurprisingly, for such an alternative
interpretation of a Biblical idiom, nothing is written down. The Lord’s
Judgement will be awaited with interest, to see if allowances will be made
for this invisible membership scheme and its undisclosed benefits, or
whether the full rate of 100% on demand will still be due.
‘administration’: the higher echelons of an organized crime family.
anti trust violations: ‘domains’ claimed for the exclusive preserve of
organized crime.
The Doobie Brothers: having taken their name from a joint, the Doobies
became one of the more successful 1970’s U.S. rock bands, whose major
hits included Listen To The Music. They were also endorsees of seriously
long hair.
Makeover At The Last Resort Salon (page 9)
Somewhat to my surprise, I have discovered something about myself
through reading my own poems. I have been known to be less than
complimentary about some of Britain’s seaside resorts, as is evident from
the poem Twinned With? in my book Rural, Rock’n The Ridiculous.
However, from the poem A Coiffure Too Far, also from the same book,
it would appear that deep within my subconscious, my mind draws a
correlation between my dislike of certain resorts and that of equally
disturbing hairstyles, if not ritualistic scalpings.
I have resisted the temptation thus far to increase my book sales, by going
public with my nominations for the top three worst resorts, in the hope
that the outraged local citizens would buy my books with the intention of
burning them. But in all probability I would still be disappointed as one of
my nominations does not have a bookshop for a 22 mile radius. I rest my
case.

38. 74 75
As You Walked Out (pages10-11)
Code 10-31: police code for a jumper.
the Chord: the 32” wide beam running along the Golden Gate Bridge.
The Bridge’s four foot safety railing has to be climbed over in order to reach
it.
Show Me The Skid-marks (pages12-13)
Low polar moments of inertia: a polar moment of inertia, at its simplest,
without resorting to scientific formulae and equations, is a quantity related
to an object’s tolerance to withstand an outside pressure, or force, before it
bends, or loses the integrity of its original shape: the higher the quantity,
the greater the ability to withstand pressure.
For further illustrative examples, relating to the word ‘polar,’ and its
disorderly effects, whether applied externally, or self induced, check out any
celebrity glossy magazine, or watch an episode of I’m A Celebrity Get Me
Out Of Here and then upgrade to a programme on Kerry Katona.
‘Terra’ tyres: the rather substantial 66” x 43” x 25” tyres fitted to monster
trucks, their original designation being for fertilizer spreaders.
Beware Of Low Flying Aircraft (page 14)
‘Hiaku Cinema’ was the response by fellow Mole Valley poet Tony Marcoff
on reading this poem because of its somewhat visual nature. Tony is one of
this country’s most original writers. Just as there are a select group of guitar
players recognizable by their signature sound, Tony is the only poet I know
who has an instantly visible signature style in the way he presents his poetry.
A Haiku is a Japanese form of poetry, which uses seventeen syllables in a 5
7 5 form over three lines. On the basis that rules are there to be broken and
that writers are meant to push boundaries, I have added a title, which the
traditional Japanese form does not allow.

39. 76 77
Return Of The Audient (pages 18-19)
Edward ‘Eddie’ Van Halen: one of the all time great guitar heroes and a
supreme showman, with a signature guitar sound. He is accredited with
creating the guitar playing technique of finger tapping and he described
his unique guitar sound as ‘Brown.’ Acres of trees were felled to produce
copy on how this celebrated ‘Brown Sound’ could be achieved. Not all of
the thousands of ‘wannabee Eddies’ he inspired would strut their stuff
and entertain with the same degree of technical expertise and musical
eloquence.
Pure flash in the pan: excessive use of finger tapping, usually by guitar
players seeking to impress but only succeeding in highlighting their limited
musical vocabulary, is often referred to as ‘widdling.’ Guitar players
who indulge in this form of abuse are sometimes referred to as Widdley
Merchants.
Scuttlebutt: originally derived from a term in the Navy to mean the
rumour mill. The ace Texas Blues guitar player, the late Stevie Ray Vaughan,
had an instrumental track “Scuttlebuttin” on his album Couldn’t Stand
The Weather.
scalloped board: a guitar neck that has had part of the fretboard scooped
away between the frets, to facilitate faster guitar playing: the legendary
Ritchie Blackmore, the former Deep Purple lead guitarist, being arguably
the finest exponent of the guitar player’s craft on these customized necks.
Truss Rod: a metal bar inserted inside the length of a steel strung guitar
neck, which can be adjusted to keep the neck straight.
The Trist (page 77 )
(clock) hands embraced together: it’s midnight
Turbo babe: you look great in the moonlight
off the peg: let’s go skinny dipping
saw-tooth with extra throb: a piranha has bitten my vitals
schluff: from the German schluffen, to be covered in chocolate blancmange,
or to be in deep doodoo.

40. 78 79
…..and one for the pot. (page 28 )
The author certifies the poem is based on true to life drama, whilst on
location
in the kitchen. Any inference to the ageist spat between certain former
vocalists of Deep Purple is entirely coincidental.
Epiphany At The Supermarket (page 30-31)
the mosh: an area that developes in front of the stage at live concerts
where members of the audience can ‘collide’ with each other in some
physical form. This can include slam dancing and body surfing, but to the
uninitiated it may seem little removed from a punch up. However for the
more seasoned moshers there is a code of etiquette.
Moshes occur at the heavier end of the musical spectrum and thus far there
been no reports of moshes amongst the fans of Celine Dion.
heavy rotation: multiple plays of a song on American radio stations over a
24 hour period. This can also apply to extensive repeated playing of a track
in a record store. Unlike the shop’s customers who may hear the track only
once during their visit to the shop, there is the possibility that the shop’s
staff may develop ‘listening fatigue’ or an aversion to the track after its
constant repetition during the course of opening hours.
Bullet Points For A Sermon (pages 32-35)
Canon Andrew White is President of the Foundation for Relief and
Reconciliation in the Middle East. He is also Vicar of the most dangerous
parish in the world, St George’s Baghdad. He tells his story with that of
Iraq’s own history, both pre and post the Second Gulf War, in his book
‘Iraq Searching for Hope.’
The opportunity to hear him speak, with his sense of charm, wit and
underlying political insight and tenaciousness, is not a chance that should
be passed by. This poem is respectfully dedicated to him.
………………..
Nineveh: the town, which Jonah reached by completing part of the journey
in the mouth of a whale, regardless of any fishing regulations imposed in
the Gulf region at the time, was located in Iraq.
Apache: American military helicopter.
Ali Babas: thieves / desert bandits
corkscrew: a 45 degree sharp angled descent by planes, to lessen the risk of
being struck by ground to air missiles whilst trying to land.
house of ‘Bob’: British Office Baghdad
to restore Eden’s ‘Green zone’ and pleasant land: Biblical tradition places
the Garden of Eden as having been in what is now modern day Iraq.
Babylon and Mesopotamia are the two most recognized names for Iraq in
the Old Testament.
William Blake’s celebrated poem Jerusalem (1804) which was set to music
by Hubert Parry in 1916 and is best known as a hymn and sometimes
referred to as England’s alternative national anthem, is influenced by the
folklore stories that Jesus visited the west country with Joseph of Arimathea.
Blake, who was concerned with the oppressive realities of post industrial
England, concluded at the end of the hymn that such vision of Heaven as
Jesus may have brought with him, as represented by Jerusalem, needed to be
rebuilt ‘In England’s green and pleasant land.’

41. 80 81
Once one has completed a poem and it is ‘out there’ for anyone to read,
one never knows how people will relate to it, in terms of their own
experiences. One of the most difficult ideas to resolve in this poem was
that of Abraham’s exodus with the arrival of tanks. I even e-mailed a friend,
somewhat tongue in cheek admittedly, that given the amount of time I was
spending on this idea, perhaps some form of therapy might be in order.
However, on reading this poem, Andrew White informed me that he first
met Dawoud a boy he was to later adopt as his son, hiding in a tank.
Consequently, the hidden significance of this idea, which I would not
have had the remotest chance of guessing, made all the previous effort
worthwhile.
Wherever I’m at is Somewhere Else (pages 39-41)
(A-Side)
Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri?: the question that every fashion
conscious
trendsetter would want to be asked down the Paxemin Romana on a
Saturday night, “How do you do that with your hair?”
(B-Side)
“One. Two. Welcome to pain.” Is it a covert message to sado-masochists?
Is it a prophecy that as part of government cut backs on public spending
anesthetic will no longer be available for surgery on the N.H.S.? Is it a
portend of what must be endured, on the basis of ‘No pain. No gain,”
before the volume kicks in and there is cathartic release from some form of
musical bondage? Don’t try to pigeon hole me, I can’t be bagged dude.

42. 82 83
‘Searching For The Elephant.’ (pages 42-44)
The Battle of the Bloody Porch: The name given by the camera crew to the
final shoot out in Sam Peckinpah’s western The Wild Bunch (1969) about a
group of aging outlaws: “ ……The earth had cooled. They couldn’t.” In this
end scenario, the remaining outlaws capitalize on an unexpected element of
surprise, to take on the Mexican army.
Dryhill: the northern part of the town of Tonbridge that is not flooded by
the River Medway.
Three Western terms (not specifically from the film):
a) All down but nine: to have missed the point.
b) to go on the scout: to go on the run, despite having a legitimate reason,
such as self defense, for a homicide.
c) corral dust: lies / deceit
Freudian Analysis of Searching For The Elephant.
Background
Many would be revolutionary leaders / rebels despite their undeniable
commitment and personal fervour for their cause, usually have some inner
gap deep within themselves that they are trying to fill, or escape from, that
exists outside the sphere which has called them to stand up and be counted.
In the case of Jesse James, for example, the absence of his clergyman father
and untimely death was an underlying cause of his eventual outlaw status.
Report
Possibly as the result of some hitherto undetermined childhood experience,
the patient exhibits an irrational fear of being locked up in a darkened
room and subjected to repeated listenings of Eddie Calvert and Anne
Shelton records being played backwards.*
There are also advanced signs of a developed prophetic intuition
proclaiming the threat from a perceived nationwide epidemic of
surveillance cameras.
Recommended Therapy
The patient should be allowed to purchase a Ford Mustang and be
permitted to enjoy what he assumes is his unassailable right to enjoy the
freedom of heading down the highway, though he may have to settle for the
A3, as far as the roadwork’s at the Devil’s Punchbowl.
*Patient’s note to shrink:
It’s a vinyl issue mate. Even at an early age my precocious audiophile ears
could not stand the sound of a needle crackling on shellac, it had to be
vinyl every time.

43. 84 85
Whose Kingdom Comes?
An altar call
to convert
or increase the medical insurance.
Whose Kingdom Comes? (pages 46-47)
Matthew 2:2-3 taken from the Good News Version.
King Herod: King Herod the Great was King of Judea from 37BCE
- 4BCE. His position as king was secured by his skillful negotiating with
Rome, as he had no direct claim to the throne through the Israelite line
of King David. He embraced the Jewish faith out of a mixture of political
expediency and personal conviction.
During his reign, King Herod undertook extensive major building projects
throughout his kingdom. In Jerusalem, this included the construction of
a new palace, a greatly improved superstructure for the city wall and a new
temple. The original temple, known as Solomon’s temple, was destroyed
in 586 B.C. when the Children of Israel went into exile. In 535 B.C.
construction began on what was known as the Second Temple and was
completed in 516 B.C. In 20 B.C. Herod tore down the existing temple and
completed a new one in just eighteen months, though additional building
work was to carry on for several more years. In consequence, the Second
Temple was also known as Herod’s Temple.
To tithe: to tithe is to give back to God a tenth of one’s increase, or a
tenth of all that God has blessed one with. The principal of tithing is first
mentioned in the Book of Genesis and is also covered in greater detail
in the Books of Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. For the people of
Israel, a largely nomadic and agriculturally based society, this would mean
giving a tenth of one’s crops, or animals, though the spoil obtained from
victory in battle over one’s enemies was at times also permissible.
In New Testament times the concept of giving money as part of tithing
was becoming more evident. There were normally appointed officials,
often the priests, who were responsible for collecting the tithe. Today many
congregations still adhere to the custom of giving a tenth of their income to
their local church, or church related organizations.
The underlying principle of giving is to develop a responsible sense of
stewardship of all that one had been given and to realize that one can never
out give God.
“We have no king but Caesar.” John 19:15 (King James Version)

44. 86 87
A Kynge Of Yore Fancies His Chances (pages 58-59)
I’ve always been into the literary greats man, Chaucer, Shakespeare and that
Restoration playwriting cat, Congreve.
G.C.S.E. English Language (page 60-61)
Question 2) C.C.F. The Combined Cadet Force (C.C.F.) is an
organization under the auspices of the Ministry of Defense that gives
teenagers, both male and female, the opportunity to have a pre-taste of
life in the armed forces, whilst still at school. Its primary aim is for pupils,
starting at the age of 14, to develop leadership skills and self reliance. Some
pupils do later join the armed forces as school leavers, but the C.C.F. is not
a covert form of pre-recruitment.
Pupils have the option of joining one of three sections, the Army, the
Royal Air Force, or the Royal Navy. The Army section tends to be the most
popular. This may in part be due to the fact that participating schools
can accommodate an armoury and rifle range within the school grounds
but space for a landing strip and an aircraft hanger can prove more of a
challenge. Few schools can claim access to their own maritime waters.
It is expected that cadets attend camp for one week a year at a military
base. ‘Real life’ exercises include rescuing hostages in kidnap situations and
administering 1st Aid in simulated car crashes. Unsurprisingly, male cadets
are found to be more highly motivated when the hostages and crash victims
are female cadets who most closely resemble Marilyn Monroe or Cheryl
Cole.
The Son Of God Contemplates….Stairway To Heaven / Reviews … In My
Time Of Dying (pages 48-49)
Stairway To Heaven, the Jimmy Page and Robert Plant composition, is
regarded as one of the greatest rock tracks of all time. It appeared on their
1971 album release Led Zeppelin IV.
Along with Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water and Cream’s Sunshine
of Your Love, it is one of those tracks that should not be played in guitar
shops, unless of course you are in fact Jimmy Page, Ritchie Blackmore, or
Eric Clapton.
……………….
Led Zeppelin’s version of the gospel standard In My Time of Dying was
recorded for their 1975 double album release Physical Graffiti. The earliest
known recording of the song was by Blind Willie Johnson in the1920’s,
albeit under the different title of Jesus Make Up My Dying Bed. However it
was Josh White’s version that was to prove to be the influence on the Led
Zeppelin recording. Apart from any Live recordings, this was to be their
longest recorded studio piece, with a running time of just over 11 minutes.
This song was featured regularly in their 1975 concert set lists, but after
a serious car accident involving himself and family, whilst on holiday in
Rhodes that same year, Robert Plant pondered the wisdom of singing a
song with an undercurrent of grim foreboding and at one point vowed
never to sing it again

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