TODAY’S PLAYLIST

News on the dental front, good news and bad. Good news, I get to keep my tombstone tooth, bad news I have a Gum abscess. So I’m on very strong antibiotics and cannot drink for a week! I tried to laugh that off but the Dentist severely warned me if I drink then I will end up in hospital. Even with the antibiotics my face has been throbbing with pain all night. Nothing worse than toothache… Well nothing except a broken ankle.

Weather warnings today of torrential rain, which makes a nice change. Had planned to go fishing with my bro, so thats probably out.

Dale M

TODAY’S PLAYLIST

Readying myself for a visit to the emergency dentist, always a pleasure, as the whole side of my head feels like its been cleaved by an axe. So, if the usual occurs and the tombstone tooth is removed I will probably have to change my diet to krill, as chewing will be futile and sieving my food is the only option.

Good day Monday, always the best day for nasty options.

Dale M

HISTORY

HISTORY

The revision of the revision is complete,

until the next revision is due.

With His story, fact is muteable,

The winner takes it all…

for now.

The winner is never immutable,

because strength fades and

another champion claims all past laurels.

Many heroes are exxed out of the story,

and only memories hold them still,

Until finally they are cleansed,

photo-shopped out of the frame.

And even as you deny this,

how many heroes are you submerging?

cleansing from your pantheon,

Because the old values are no more?

The moveable feast of our past,

Make maintaining a time line difficult,

Because who we were, is who we are not,

And those ancient beliefs stick in the craw,

like fois gras, or delicious baby veal steaks,

The old ways are beyond the pale.

In this quicksand, finding a footing,

Is illusory, like God, the sands shift,

And good is then bad, and bad inevitable,

The only way to combat history,

is to hold on to your memories,

no matter how false they themselves might be…

Dale M 2021.

I WON’T KNEEL

I WON’T KNEEL

Save your breath,

I won’t kneel,

I’ve held your false prophets in contempt,

Love is the only goal,

Fame and fortune you can keep,

The pursuit of love,

Is the only game in town.

And this is not to say sex,

Love is pure,

not prurient,

Love is a conjunction of minds,

Not bodies,

Not bodily fluids…

That is just adventuring.

I miss the salve of love,

I miss the you-ness of me,

And the me-ness of you.

The ying and yang of we.

I won’t kneel,

To envy and dislike,

I won’t hate even if hating

Is the only game in town.

We will only progress

if we worship love

and care for one another,

anything else is heresy.

Dale m 2021.

STRAIGHT

STRAIGHT

The queer scrapes of the bohemian life,

Stoned, booze buzzed, listening to Hair,

With a mellow red light, fashioned from withies,

And a scarlet chiffon scarf,

Knowing those tight pursed red lips,

Are rehearsing the moves on yours,

As she studies the chess board,

uncertain whether to let you win or not…

She has already won twice!

And you are already uncertain as to

which game you are playing?

It’s 3 0’clock in the morning,

And you decide it is now, as you lean forward and

stroke the bald sides of her head,

avoiding the gel of the mohawk,

She feels aflame, always the same…

The scary ones are always the softest.

You lightly brush her lips with yours,

and the electricity sparks.

She stands. The chess board spins.

What music do you wanna fuck to?

She chooses mellow, a Mahler,

Symphony no.5, she shows her taste,

This is for you, the drop of the mask…

Always there below is the broken child,

Still waiting for approval.

You clap your hands and smile,

You make the way to bed, a mattress on the floor,

Both undressing without guile.

And there you lie, with hot octopus limbs,

encircling and enveloping with need,

because love is always a need.

All is soft because you love the softness,

and she with her point to prove,

screams for hardness, screams for more.

And then the booze wishes to be free,

and you jump up half ashamed and fully erect,

run to the bathroom and throw up,

Swig mouthwash from the bottle

and try to make up for the moment

now well and truly lost.

You sleep for a while and then awaken to the

morning glory. This is no gentle affair,

bruises and bites on your shoulder.

She gets up and makes coffee.

you move the sofa in the lounge and pick up

a piece of charcoal, and draw her naked on the wall.

These reckless entanglements, quantum and divine,

This is what you miss if you are always straight.

DALE M 2021

DEEP NOSTALGIA #4

WELL MY HYPERTENSION NURSE WAS QUITE HAPPY WITH MY PROGRESS, AND AGREED THAT I WAS RIGHT TO COME AND ENQUIRE ABOUT WHEN TO TAKE MY BLOOD PRESSURE TABLET, GIVEN THAT THE ARRAY OF DRUGS I TAKE EVERYDAY COULD EASILY CAUSE A REACTION WHEN TAKEN TOGETHER. SO, I HAVE STOPPED TAKING IT IN THE MORNING AND AM NOW TAKING IT AT NIGHT WITH MOST OF MY PAINKILLERS. AND HERE I AM WAKING AT 9.30AM AND FOR THE MOST PART COMPOS MENTIS. SO IT SEEMS TO BE A GOOD MOVE.

I’M GOING TO GET UP IN A MOMENT, AND TAKE MY LITTLE GIRLS FOR A WALK.( THE DOGS)

LET’S TAKE ON THE WORLD, ONE STEP AT A TIME.

DALE M

THE VAGARIES OF MEMORY

VAGARIES OF MEMORY

This is the song I remember was playing when I learned of Ian Curtis’s death. It is a clear memory. No distinguishing memory to cut across it… Yet when this single was released, Ian Curtis had been dead for three years. The rest of my memories of that day are accurate, it was 1980, I was in flagranti with a beautiful married chamber maid, whose husband was away on the oil rigs in Aberdeen, and I was distraught. Stuck in a loveless engagement, soon to become a 30 year loveless marriage… But no. that is not right either, the delectable chambermaid had been in 1981, and the connection with Ian Curtis was her surname.

So my perfect memory is three times wrong, wrong song, wrong year, and wrong reason to remember.

Yet the memory persists. Its perfect symmetry suits my logical mind. Will I remember that the memory is absolutely fake the next time I hear the song?

No, I will instantly remember the beautiful girl and my beautiful perfect body, and the sang-froi of loss and longing in the song, the memory and the loss of a hero.

Our minds prefer the perfect image to the truth, a bit like the media.

Dale m