Part two

The memory banks break ranks and scatter to the four winds. Can’t remember a thing now how did that happen and why? Brain cells die an echo tells me but I already forgot…

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South Shields 1963

. Her eyes, lit coals burning holes through my skin I wanted to be and she wanted me and grandma called me in for my tea and she went off on her tricycle. first loves, I had a two-wheeled scooter made from the finest red tin I scootered that beauty everywhere,. her eyes still burned…

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Its been a long day

I write to remember what I should forget and then forget to remember to forget and then I get confused and write some more, but I remember what I had for breakfast in Saltdean on the fourteenth of August 1972 which worries me to death, well, perhaps not death but somewhere very close to it…

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Morecambe fairground

It was a sixpenny slot which wasn’t that much, but when that’s all you’ve got it was. twenty shots to pot twenty ducks and you’d get your sixpence back, quack bloody quack never once got it back and I always walked home, that should have taught me something about something, but when you’re ten you…

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Christmas 1967

The canal was frozen over the river was flowing with snow, so many opportunities we didn’t know where to go. The elvers were burrowed in deep the salmon, all fast asleep but we were young and wanted to watch them run, until Mum called us in for tea…

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Gypsy Rose the third

    In spite of or because of what was I really thinking? and as the counsel of Kings cast their votes each one brings to me thoughts of what was to be and what was to come.   The crack den was open for business when the morning struck fear into death and as…

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Father

It’s been a long time Albert, since we sat in the Yorkshire House, chatting and having a sherbet aye Forty seven years if memory serves which is more than the barmaid did when she found out I was sixteen. That was sweet beer but I’d swop an ocean of it if you could be here…

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Dreamer

  I see the reel play in my head but feel it in my heart, each frame in super stereo and choreographed in slo’ mo’…

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Eight point two

Still better because because it’s better than it was and it was that bad. ‘.I cannot recall just when, but mum did say it were after ten…’ remembering the bay today the fairground rides, ghost train, slides, and the goldfish that I never won. Listening to the gulls always seems to pull me there where…

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Foxholes

Do not disturb the shadows where the days lay tired sleeping or walk on hot coals through your memories where the dead are keeping watch. There was something in the, something in the, something, but I now forget, regret? well it rhymes and there were some times, some times, but I forgot again. It’s just…

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The night train

of thoughts, but then you reminded me of all those things that had blinded me when all that I find to see is you. Memory is trickery, a bit ‘hickory dickery’ when the clock is against me. If age is the slipstream then the jet age was my dream, but I woke, flamed out and…

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The bargee

On the towpath which is no path for the fainthearted is where it all started, watching the sticklebacks separating fictions from facts making several pacts with myself which in turn turned into chains and chained me to the troubles I went through. Catching the dragonflies making eyes at the jack pike like I knew it…

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From the lost diary of Franklyn Brindley

What we then thought was fact was, in fact, a fiction because addiction can make us believe what we want to. and it’s when the shivers run through you and the knives come to cut you and the doctors are trying to ‘nut you off ‘ only then do you think that there might be…

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The time trap

I swim in them so those pictures from a minute ago or a thousand years ago are still stowed in the album…

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Sun on Sunday

The power of a good prayer works wonders a bit like Double Diamond but it doesn’t get you drunk. My memory foam mattress remembers me when I was a stallion, I’m glad because I don’t. Prayer won’t help me there. So here I am and where might that be? you may well ask. I suppose…

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Trying not to be s trynosaur

Ready to fly off die off, cry off, boredom likes to kill. People I have known who’ve flown, took the final bow how I miss them. Old men and memory are taking me, but I will resist them, I have no time for old men although the ladies are quite sweet. But it’s a numbers…

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Old man on a chair, watercolour 1956

We used to be didn’t we? then we went our separate ways you into the night and I into the distance of those lonely days watching interminable television plays based on love and romance let loose and yet instead of playing the field I became a recluse preferring to be alone seeking no company needing…

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Boats and barges

Funny how one remembers the old way which way back then was the way. Mum picked up her pay from a little side window at the infirmary almost as if they didn’t want anyone to see it. Sister stood by the old canal wall watching the ‘lady Fiona’ which by the way which was the way…

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Monday

The bait bag or snap tin was what dad put his sandwiches in and off to work he went, not a city gent, but skilled in his own way and worked a day for a day’s pay, We used to watch for him coming home and when we saw the works van we ran down…

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White Christmas

Where’s the snow where did it go? When I was a boy before you were born or maybe not we got a lot of snow and you know it didn’t feel so cold back then when I was a boy before the internet and before I forget which I do can you remember the snow…

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