They strolled confident in their own
insular internal world.
Part of the scene.
The up and coming generation
in their new scene
Adults – those gone before – responsible for bringing them into the world
of the teens ‘n twenties
They strolled on by…
…On by the buildings on each corner, on by the buses and cars, stopping and starting, on by the geeks, and business people, the booted and suited and ordinary souls, on by the out-of-it, on by the traditionally bound, on by the non-heads, on by the suburban mice, entrenched in their nine to five lives, – no turning on, no tuning in, no dropping out,.
On by the traffic wardens dressed to bill, on by the shop windows of expensive clothes, on by the bowler hats, on by the policemen, on by the tramps, on by school kids, from whom they were only – once removed.
At last their destination reached – the pub, to partake of their ritualisational, recreational, idol worship, of pint of beer. To sit and pose and postulate and pontificate and predicate on all things under the sun, but chiefly music and progressive rock, and stuff, allowing the odd mundane surmise to interrupt, while conversational dole queue endurance was shared to mutually sympathise, – safe in the arms of being set apart and not being a part – of society as it was – by and large as the majority sees it. Back in the day, long gone away – when a better world was supposed, and all would eventually be well, more well than before, with mind expansion – such was pseudo – as later found out, – and making relationships that didn’t last but smelt of lasting – in earthly utopia’s forever, these would change from day to day or week to week, like ascending vapour all encompassed in physical attraction only – or mostly, – and where was this generation heading? – out the exit to an entering into – of a new set of thoughts that wasn’t knew at all – but became another version of all that was previously shunned.
And now as I reflect on this – gone past – back in the day – ‘what pray – do ye conclude?’
’Tis far detached from me…’
‘The liberty that endures and did replace
– that – found I’.
I’m not sure what my dad used these for, but I sketched them and still have them – tucked away in a drawer. They of course mean more to me because they belonged to him.
Pop Festival – I suppose that’s what we called it
One in particular was a turning point for me
Plumpton near Brighton, if correct my memory be
With beer in hand – running, startled, at sudden sound
The Festival had begun – this was a beckoning call
Running with a friend – ‘it’s about the music, that’s all’
But the atmosphere on me was dark and lost
I didn’t understand it’s foggy devilment
Only that the darkness was not heaven sent
Extremity of hopelessness – lost and undone
I tried to grasp why? Everything should have been fine
But a battle was ensuing for this soul of mine
I stood up and danced before all
Reaching for the sky for some answer – not found
Feet in the air, but soul on the ground
Inner conflict, doubt, confusion and all
Pain and hurt, depressed, with chagrin
‘Why am I here?’ ‘What has brought me to this bin?’
Many thoughts – none making sense
Laughed at, mocked and told to sit down
Fearful, confused, thinking myself a clown
Ashamed and something else,
I got over it – and carried on my way
Living to fight another day
But many months later
The lost was found
as Grace came after
That shadowy time –
and tears turned to laughter
It’s the way the Christ always works
Drawing near to the tears of despair
Sending to flight the power of the air
Dark and lost devilment
From the heart that cries out
– has to leave –
when faith replaces doubt
Its a strange language to others
when a man can say –
I met Jesus today.