I was nineteen, almost twenty
back then. In the fifties.
The small after war mill town
in Lancashire
held dark hope for the future.
Smoke stacks and coal stained
buildings left from the remnants
of the industrial revolution.

Now all I felt in my heart was anger.
No jobs poor wages if you could get one.
But I had my looks and burning passion
to get somewhere in this ****** World.

My dad got me a job in the offices
At the coal mine where he was a miner.
it was on the
bottom rung of the ladder
I hated it, but it was a job.
That's where I met her, my boss.
The eldest daughter of the mine owner.

She was pretty and spoiled.
Well educated
at rich daddy's expense I guessed.
But used to her own way.
Nepotism was rife in those days.
She was thirty four but she kept
looking at me almost inspecting me.
Like her next toy I thought

But I was nineteen.  
I had never been with a woman
And she was well built and pretty.
She spoke to me gently and respectfully.
Like a teacher does to a pupil.

And as I listened all I could notice
Were her beautiful breast
and the impressive cleavage
In her blouse.

Every morning is he smiled at me
and wished me  good day.
What she did not know she had starred
In my ******  dream last night and in it
Her expensive clothes lay carelessly
On the  floor next to the bed,
That we were sharing.

She spent time with me
and taught.me a lot
about the business.
Her family owned half the town.

I had to work the weekend
the auditors were coming in
on monday morning early.
At seven o'clock on Saturday evening
we finished our preparations.

Thank you so much she said softly.
You must be famished I am.
She took me into town
in her MG sports car.
We ate at nice pub I had
three glasses of red wine.
I liked it I had never drank wine before.

She said do you have a girl.
I blushed no miss.
Why not, you are very nice looking.
Have you not found one lady
that you would like to ask out.

Yes miss I.mumbled there's one.
She looked at me I thought
I saw a tiny bit of jealousy.
But it could be the wine.
Who is she?
tell me about her it was half an order.

I called upon the glow
of my new found wine friend and said.
She's beautiful miss.
Very very stylish.
Lovely figure
and perfect gray eyes.
I don't think I have ever seen
a woman as lovely as her.

She sounds lovely she said.
But I noticed she was a bit miffed.
Why don't you ask her out.?
Because I don't think
she would accept miss.
Look she said out of the office
You may call me Elisabeth all right.
I said yes miss….er... Elizabeth.
Who is this lady you talk of anyway?

It's …..its you miss.
She went silent.
Looking at me intently.
Have I lost my job miss I asked.
No you haven't its alright.
I am much older than you.
It would not be appropriate.

Men go with ladies
much younger than they are miss.
Yes I know they do.

She took me back to the small
flat she kept in the city.
For nights that
she may be out on the town.
It was cosy and comfortable.
She poured more wine.

Why have you never married? I asked.
She smiled.
Because all those
that asked I didn't love,
all those I loved did not ask
she quipped.

I took my jacket off
it was warm with the wine.
And  the closeness to her.
My small pocket novel sided girlie
magazine fell out of the inside pocket.
I grabbed it quickly.

but she saw it.
Let me see it she said.
I passed it to her blushing.
She looked at the pictures
of the large breasted naked ladies.
They are lovely she said.

They are not as lovely as you are miss.
Have you ever been with a lady.
She asked.
I blushed no not yet,.
She said its time you did.

Taking my hand
she led me to her bedroom.
I am not sure what to do I whispered.
Hush hush now come to me,
She took me slowly and patiently.

I felt my childhood leave my body
Irrevocably rushing into her as my
manhood appeared in its place.

I slept in her arms and
when  I woke in the night.
she took me again
and held my head
onto her beautiful breast
as I slept like a child.

After that she took me to her place
after work almost every day,
She took me to her bed
and we made love.

After  few months I came into work
she called me into her office.
She looked troubled.
I thought I was getting fired.

But she said I'm pregnant.
In those days abortions
were illegal and dangerous.
And out of  wedlock babies poured
shame on lady and family.

She said I want this baby.
I told my mother
She broke it to daddy.
He's furious he wants to see you
in his office now.

I nearly collapsed
with fear and. confusion.
But I made my way to the
managing director's office.
He was a big man with a
moustache and silver hair.
Noted for his temper.

He said I make no bones about it.
You are not suitable
to a member of my family.
I had my lawyer draw up an agreement.
and termination package.

He brought out his checkbook.
He wrote a cheque payable to me
for thirty thousand pounds.
An enormous sum in those days.
Move on leave town
and never bother Elisabeth again.
He said strictly.

I do not know where
I got the courage from.
I looked at the cheque.
And thought of my
hundred and five pounds net worth.
And I tore it half.

Sir, You can fire me,
blacklist my name
in the north of England .
Make my life a living hell.
you have this power I know.
.
But I shall not leave Elisabeth
unless she tells me to go.
And even then
I do not want your money.

He stopped silently.
He always got his way,
No one ever talked back at him.
But.
There was something about this boy
that reminded him of himself so long ago
when he had not two penny's
to rub together.
and truth be known,
he married his wife Maud
because she was pregnant.

Very well
we will call my errant daughter.
and she can tell you to go herself.

Elizabeth came in the room
Her pretty eyes.
Red from crying.
Tell him to go daughter
he commanded.

I offered him thirty
thousand pounds to go away.
But he tore up the cheque.
He wants to hear you
to tell him to leave.
And he will leave
without a penny.

She looked up into my face
She saw the love
in my eyes that I had for her.

Do you want me she asked.
I answered
yes I do

Do you want this baby
she asked firmly
Yes I do.

Do you want to marry me
she asked?
Yes I do .

Old Abel her father knew defeat
when it was inevitable.
Alright against my blessing
you get married next week in white.
No bride of my family
Will go to altar great with child.

Ten years later

Abel had retired
And became the doting grandfather
To  our four children.
After the twins were born
then a year later his granddaughter
a year later his grandson.
he realised that his daughter
was the happiest women
in the north.of England.

.And his son in law
was  good husband and father.

I ran the mine
and expanded his interest
into electronics manufacturing.

We sit together on the river bank
sometimes Elizabeth and me.
I say l love you honey.
You are still the most beautiful woman
i have ever been with.

She laughs
i am the only woman
you have been with
I corrupted you as a youth.

.I am so happy you never
asked me to leave
that day in his office.
She smiled.
No,
I proposed to you instead,my  love.

Why did you not accept the huge sum
of money he offered and run.

Because
Of something you once said
about not being married
What's that then she questioned
All the ones you loved
did not ask you.
And
You were the one I loved
and you did ask me

They’re really rockin’ in Bradford,
Off the Pennine Way.
Deep in the heart of Yorkshire
And round the Robin Hood’s Bay.
All over South Ossett
And down to New Farnley.
Roast beef and Yorkie Puddings,
God’s Own County, Yay!

Yull see ‘em rambling at Ilkley,
Right to the county line,
Sheffield steel and Wednesday –
A football team so fine.
Better still, Leeds United,
Greatest club of all time.

Yorkshire, Kings of Cricket,
Oh what a boon!
Get down that wicket,
We’ll be champs by June.
Down a ginnel or snicket,
See our Olympic Champs.
Coal Miner Picket,
Relight those lamps.

Racing pigeons and ferrets,
Stereotypes tha knows.
Over t’top in Lancashire,
Them there’s our foes.
We’re the greatest county,
Our pride really glows.
We know you all hate us,
It keeps us on our toes.

So we’ll be rockin’ in Yorkshire,
What more can I say?
Us Tykes 're as barmy as Barnsley,
So I’ll be on my way.

Paul Butters

(With due thanks to Chuck Berry and also The Beach Boys)

1951 a small mining town in Lancashire

I was only a young man of 18
back then. In the fifties.
The small after war mill town
in Lancashire was a desolate place.
Its dark soot stained buildings factory chimneys
that poured dark grey smoke
into the coal dust of air we breathed.
Even the town felt choked
by the dark hope for the future.
Smoke stacks and coal stained
buildings left from the remnants
of the industrial revolution.
Seemed to say to me
get out of here lad,
there's nothing for you.

Now all I felt in my heart was anger.
No jobs poor wages even if you could get one.
But I had my looks my youth and burning passion
to get somewhere in this ****** World.
And if I got the chance t would take it.

My dad got me a job in the offices
At the coal mine where he was a miner.
it was on the bottom rung of the ladder
I hated it, but it was a job.
That's where I first met her, my boss.
The eldest daughter of the mine owner.
She was pretty and spoiled.
Well educated and well dressed.
At rich daddy's expense I guessed.
But she was used to getting  her own way.
Nepotism was rife in those days.
She was thirty four but she kept
looking at me almost inspecting me.
Like her next toy I thought.

But I was eighteen.
I had never been with a woman
No experience, whatsoever with women.
And she was well built and pretty.
She spoke to me gently and respectfully.
Like a teacher does to a pupil.

She would bend over my desk
Teaching me the intricacy of the business,
And as I listened all I could notice
Were her beautiful breast
and the impressive cleavage
Inside her blouse.

Every morning she smiled at me
and wished me  good day.
What she did not know she had starred
In my ******  dream last night and in it
Her expensive clothes lay carelessly
On the  floor next to the bed,
that we were sharing.

She spent time with me
and taught.me a lot
about the business.
Her family owned half the town.

I had to work the weekend
the auditors were coming in
on monday morning early.
At seven o'clock on Saturday evening
we finished our preparations.

Thank you so much, she said softly.
You must be famished, I am.
She took me into town
in her MG sports car.
We ate at a nice pub I had
three glasses of red wine.
I liked it I had never drank wine before.

She said, do you have a girl.
I blushed, no miss.
Why not, you are very nice looking.
Have you not found one lady
that you would like to ask out.

Yes miss I.mumbled, there's one.
She looked at me, I thought
I saw a tiny bit of jealousy.
But it could be the wine.
Who is she? tell me about her
it was half a question
yet half an order.

I called upon the glow
of my new found wine friend and said.
She's so beautiful miss.
Very very stylish.
Lovely figure
and perfect gray eyes.
I don't think I have ever seen
a woman as lovely as her.

She sounds lovely she said.
But I noticed she was a bit miffed.
Why don't you ask her out.?
Because I don't think
she would accept miss.
She is far above my station.

Look she said out of the office
You may call me Elizabeth, all right.
I said yes miss….er... Elizabeth.
Who is this lady you talk of anyway?

It's …..its you miss.
She went silent.
Looking at me intently.

Have I lost my job, miss I asked.
No you haven't it's alright.
I am much older than you.
It would not be appropriate.

Men go with ladies
much younger than they are miss.
Yes, I know they do.

She took me back to the small
flat she kept in the city.
For nights that
she may be out on the town.
It was cosy and comfortable.
She poured more wine.

Why have you never married? I asked.
She smiled.
Because all those
that asked me, I didn't love,
all those I loved, did not ask
she quipped.

I took my jacket off
I was warm with the wine.
And  the closeness to her.
My small pocket novel sized girlie
magazine fell out of the inside pocket.
I grabbed it quickly.

but she had seen it.
Let me see it, she said.
I passed it to her blushing.
She looked at the pictures
of the large breasted naked ladies.
They are lovely, she said.

They are not as lovely as you are miss.
Have you ever been with a lady.
She asked.
I blushed no not yet,.
She said then it's high time you did.

Taking my hand
she led me to her bedroom.
I am not sure what to do, I whispered.
Hush, hush, now come to me,
She took me slowly and patiently.

I felt the boyhood leave my body
Irrevocably rushing into her as my
manhood appeared in its place.

I slept in her arms and
when  I woke in the night.
she took me again
and held my head
onto her beautiful breast
as I slept like a child.

After that she took me to her place
after work almost every day,
She took me to her bed
and we made love.

After  few months I came into work
she called me into her office.
She looked very troubled.
I thought I was getting fired.

But she said, I'm pregnant.
In those days abortions
were illegal and dangerous.
And out of  wedlock babies poured
shame on lady and family.

She said I want this baby.
I told my mother
She broke it to daddy last night.
He's furious, he wants to see you
in his office now.

I nearly collapsed
with fear and. confusion.
But I made my way to the
managing director's office.
He was a big man with a
moustache and silver hair.
Noted for his bad temper.

He said I make no bones about it.
You are not suitable
to be a member of my family.
I had my lawyer draw up an agreement.
and termination package.

He brought out his checkbook.
He wrote a cheque payable to me
for thirty thousand pounds.
An enormous sum in those days.
Move on leave town
and never bother Elizabeth again.
He said strictly.

I do not know to this day, where
I got the courage from.
I looked at the cheque.
And thought of my
hundred and five pounds, net worth.
And I tore it half.

Sir, You can fire me,
blacklist my name
in the north of England .
Make my life a living hell.
you have this power, I know.
.
But I shall not leave Elisabeth
unless she tells me to go.
And even then
I do not want your money.

He stopped silently.
and looked at me
as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

He always got his way,
No one ever talked back at him.
But.
There was something about this boy
that reminded him of himself so long ago
when he had not two half penny's
to rub together.
And truth be known,
he married his wife Maud
because she was in the family way..

Very well then.
we will call my errant daughter.
and she can tell you to go herself.

Elizabeth came in the room
Her pretty eyes.
Red from crying.
Tell him to go, daughter
he commanded.

I offered him thirty
thousand pounds to go away.
But he tore up the cheque.
He wants to hear you
to tell him to leave.
And he will leave
without a penny.
tell him to go now.

She looked up into my face
She saw all the love
in my eyes that I had for her.

Do you want me?
she asked
I answered
yes I do.

Do you want this baby
she asked firmly.
Yes I do.

Do you want to marry me
she asked?
Yes I do .

Old Abel her father knew defeat
when it was inevitable.
Alright then,against my blessing
you get married next week in white.
No bride of my family
Will go to altar great with child.

Ten years later

Abel had retired.
And became the doting grandfather.
To  our four dear children.
After the twins were born
then a year later his granddaughter
a year later his grandson.
he realised that his daughter
was the happiest women
in the north.of England.

.And his son in law
was  good husband and father.

I ran the mine
and expanded his interest
into electronics manufacturing.

We sit together on summer nights
on the river bank.
Sometimes Elizabeth and me get a little
alone time. No kids no work.
I say to her  l love you honey.
You are still the most beautiful woman
i have ever been with.

She laughs
i am the only woman
you have been with
I corrupted you as a youth.

I whisper,
.I am so happy you never
asked me to leave
that day in his office.
She smiled.
No,
I proposed to you instead,my  love.

Why did you not accept the huge sum
of money he offered and run.

Because
Of something you once said
about not being married
What's that then?
she questioned
All the ones you loved
did not ask you.
And
You were the one I loved
and you did ask me

AN EXOTIC JOURNEY TO THE
               KHYBER PASS!
              By Raj Nandy

“When spring-time flushes the desert grass,
Our caravan wind through the Khyber Pass.
Lean are the camels but fat the frails,
Lighter the purses but heavy the bales!
As the snowbound trade of the North comes down,
To the market square of Peshawar town.”
- Rudyard Kipling (Dec1865- Jan 1936).

Those immortal lines of Kipling had enticed me,
To delve into famous Khyber’s exotic History ;
And today I narrate its wondrous story!

THE KHYBER PASS:
Steeped in adventure, bloodshed and mystery,
The Khyber remains the doorway of History!
Winston Churchill, then a young newspaper
correspondent in 18 97 had said, -
‘Each rock and hill along the pass had a story
to tell! ’
Cutting across the limestone cliffs more than
thousand feet high,
This narrow winding path of 45 km’s stretch,
Cuts through the Hindu Kush mountain range!
Forming a part of the ancient Silk Route between
Central and South Asia;
Linking Kabul with Peshawar town during those
early days of Pre-Independent India!
The area is inhabited by fierce Pashtun tribesmen,
who live by their ancient Honor Code;
They value their land and liberty, and their winding
mountain roads !
They can be the greatest of friends and deadliest
of foes;
And as the saying goes, for a friend a Pashtun
can even give up his life;
But he never forgets a wrong or when rubbed on
the wrong side !
He always avenges a wrong deed done, -
Even after decades, through his sons!
The indigenous tribes living along the pass,
Regard this area as their sole preserve!
They have levied a toll on all travelers from
the earliest days,
For their safe conduct and passage through the
Khyber, - as Historians say!

HISTORIC INVASIONS THROUGH KHYBER:
At its highest point the Khyber is 3500 ft in height,
But its strategic importance can never be denied!
Around 2000 BC came the Indo-Aryan tribes
from Central Asia,
Migrating to the rich fertile plains of Ancient India!
In 326 BC, the great Alexander came through,
By bribing the local tribes to gain their favour,
To defeat King Porus on the banks of Jhelum River;
And set up his short-lived Bactrian Empire!
In 1192 AD Afghan warlord Mohammad Ghori, -
Invaded India to set up The Sultanate at Delhi!
In 1220 Genghis Khan with his Mongol hordes
came through the Khyber;
With the help of local tribesmen to plunder the
ruling Arab Empire!
In 1380 through this pass came Timur Lane,
To wreck and destroy the Delhi Sultanate!
And finally from Kabul through the Khyber path,
Came Babur to establish the Mogul Empire with
his victory at Panipath!
From 1839 till 1919, here the British had fought,
- three ****** Anglo-Afghan Wars!
And before retreating, drew the famous Durand
Line to ally fears;
But this Line is now the cause of bickering and
tribal tears!

THE BRITISH KHYBER RAILWAY:
At Jamrud Cantonment town 17 km west of
Peshawar,
Lies the doorway to the historic Khyber!
The track passes through a breath-taking rugged
mountainous terrain, -
Through 34 tunnels, over 92 bridges, a 42 kilometer’s
of winding stretch!
A five hour’s journey at Laudi Kotal gets complete;
The line stands as a tribute to British Engineering
feat!
The legendary Khyber Rifles had guarded the
western flanks of the British Empire,
With garrisoned troops guarding this route entire! @
Since 1990 this train is run by a private enterprise, #
With local tribesmen always taking a free joy ride!
Recent Taliban attacks made Pakistan to close
the Khyber Pass,
An uneasy truce prevails, only God knows how
long it will last ?!
But with that Durand Line of 1893 demarcated,
Forty million Pashtuns today stand divided, -
Between Pakistan and Afghanistan!
With hopes, aspirations and dreams of becoming
United!
- Raj Nandy
New Delhi .

NOTES:-
Battle Of Panipath, April 1526, where Babur defeated numerically
superior forces of Ibrahim Lodhi; thereby establishing the Moghul
Empire in India!
On 04Nov1925, the British inaugurated the Khyber Railway to carry
troops up to Laudi Kotal on the other end, short of the Afghan border
to guard the western flanks of the British Empire!
@KHYBER RIFLES: - Raised in early1880s with HQs at Laudi Kotal,
& garrison troops manning the Forts at Ali Masjid near the
mid-way point of the Pass, and also at Fort Maud to the east of the
Khyber Pass.
KHYBER RAILWAYS: With 75 seats, a kitchenette, and two toilets;
pulled by two old Lancashire engines of 1920 vintage! It cuts across
Peshwar Airport under Air Traffic Control! It was stopped in 1982, as
economically not viable! Started again by a Private Enterprise
in 1990, in collaboration with the Pak Railway! After the Partition of
India in 1947, the Khyber is under the Federal Administered Tribal
Area of Pakistan! A difficult and a volatile region to govern! The
Khyber now remains closed due political reasons! Thanks for
reading.
* ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH RAJ NANDY

I sit on my **** by the fireside chair
and talk the mill talk to the calender man
but he doesn't care
he just watches his gauges and pressures
how precious he is
to the factory owner who allows him to live
on a pittance each week.

And while he clothes the World
in his mind he would seek
a botany bay
where his ancestors lay
and put roots in that ground.
The sound of the press, blocks the sound from the bell
just as well
because that ringing in his ears is not the bite from the future
but the teeth in the fears of his past
and another bolt of cloth has been passed by the foreman
and ticked off the list that he keeps in a book
to read to the crook who works in accounting
and pushed to the double entry
in another book amounting to
daylight robbery
but the snobbery of the age is another page set
in the mill town you get
****** all.

The fine hall's for the Master and all you survey
are the ruins that lie in the ruins of another day.

Get away
to get away and walk through a gateway into a better day
but the Devil you know is the Devil you pay and what would he say
if you jacked in the mill
and worked down the mines
better times indeed?

up theer atop
Pendlebury hill

Lowry still,

matchstick thin
a flat cap
cheeky grin,

he paints the rain
grainy,

although
not always on a Sunday.


I Watch him by the mill race,
a mill shed face
that catches old like new
for me,

L.S Lowry
ought to be
hanging in the Tate,

oh wait,
he is.

Mill to mill a bitter pill this treadmill that we're led to

and from mill to mill we will always be

candy for the mills of society




they gab in the background about Christmas,

alas

no Christmas for me

the foreman has told me to work that day

and no turkey shall I see




cold ham and pickle with cheese and a tickle of trout

lightly poached (nightly poached) from the river that runs through his Lordship's land




and yes




I bite the hand that feeds me for it's the same hand that needs me in mill to mill when will it all end.

They were different times

The only thing I know about old man Venn
He used to tie two cats' tails together
Hang them over the washing line
To watch them fight
Cruel old man Venn

There was a man in the village
He killed dead pigs
If a farmer had a pig die
He'd cart it home then squeal and shriek
Like a dying pig
Then pass off the meat as fresh
Everyone knew about it

A couple in the village were always arguing
One night the man said he was going to drown himself
In the pond
She said do you go an' do it in someone else's pond
I ha' got to drink that water

Jim said there'll be a fire in the village afore long
Russell said how d'you know that then?
Down at Hall Farm I see him stripping the paint off his window
With a blow torch
Right near the thatch
He knows better  'an that
Sure enough the old farmhouse burnt to the ground
He built a bungalow with the insurance money
Old Jim was right again

Russell met his wife to be during the war
He had a few days leave but not long enough to go home
So he stayed with his mate in Lancashire
Ended up marrying his mate's sister
She came down to Suffolk
One of the local women said to her
Where do you come from?
Lancashire she said
I didn't think you was English she said

A farmer said to Jim
That wholly made me sweat to write out your cheque
For thatching this year
Med me sweat fust said Jim

For hurdle making they would cut ash pole in the wood
Using hand axes
When they finished the women from nearby cottages
Would come and pick up the chips to start their fires

Plastic engineering
quite fantastic
so endearing.

But we make no bones
you can't live lives
in plastic homes
eat plastic bread
drink plastic tea
plastic honey's not
for me.

Let's try and be
the reality
we look to find
but seldom see.

If I take the fall or give
up hope and hang myself
with a plastic rope
how would it look in
years to come
when an archaeologist
(From Lancashire)
says,
'eeh by gum
I've never seen the like before,
plastic face, plastic eyes, plastic ears and plastic jaw'
and you're wondering what all this plastic's for,
but you're not alone, not on your own
there's lot more in their plastic home
thinking the same.

It's all in the name
if they'd called plastic, gold,
we'd all have been sold on
the idea.

They’re really rockin’ in Bradford,
Off the Pennine Way.
Deep in the heart of Yorkshire
And all round Robin Hood’s Bay.
All over South Ossett
Down there to New Farnley.
Roast beef and Yorkie Puddings,
God’s County Yay!

Yull see ‘em rambling near Ilkley,
Right to the county line,
Sheffield steel and Wednesday –
A football team so fine.
Better still, Leeds United,
Greatest club of all time.

Yorkshire, Kings of Cricket,
Oh what a boon!
Get down that wicket,
We’ll be champs by June.
Down a ginnel or snicket,
See our Olympic Champs.
Coal Miner Picket,
Relight those lamps.

Racing pigeons and ferrets,
Stereotypes tha knows.
Over t’top in Lancashire,
Them there’s our foes.
We’re the greatest county,
Our pride really glows.
We know you all do hate us,
It keeps us on our toes.

So we’ll be rockin’ in Yorkshire,
What more can I say?
Us Tykes're as barmy as Barnsley,
So I’ll be on my way.

Paul Butters

(With due thanks to Chuck Berry and also The Beach Boys)
© PB 2\5\2016.  Slightly Amended 14\4\2023.

There's a tale that's spoken
When dawn has broken
By gateman and watchmen and guards
And it's echoed by thieves
As the night time leaves
As they shuffle their crooked cards

Of a demon disguised
And a doctor despised
So be weary of coaches at night
There's a roaming physician
Of the devils tuition
A curse and a bringer of plight

Oh, Doctor Sinestre
The butcher of Leicester
A man with a hunger for pain
With top hat and tails
And talon-like nails
There are many he's happily slain
He travels by night
And is fast out of sight
And away by the first light of day
He takes eyes and ears
As grim souvenirs
And your body is left on display

It's said he was born
With a singular horn
Which he uses to gouge his prey
And my grandmother swears
He was brought up by bears
Which he killed in a grizzly display

He's a magical voice
A remover of choice
To beguile the strongest of wills
He can tear you apart
And pull out your heart
So quickly the blood never spills

Oh, Doctor Sinestre
The gory molester
An animal dressed as a man
If you hear him approach
In his ebony coach
Then away just as fast as you can
He feeds on the weak
On souls of the bleak
And seekers of fortune and strife
He removes your afflictions
Diseases, addictions
As swiftly he cures you of life

He has eyes in his ears
So he sees what he hears
His teeth once belonged to a snake
The soles of his feet
Don't meet with the street
Not a print or a sound does he make

There are maps of strange lands
On the palms of his hands
And thick purple hair on the back
There's a bat in his hat
All sluggish and fat
For if ever he fancies a snack

Oh, Doctor Sinestre
The mayor of Chester
And prince of the circles of hell
He giggles and gloats
As he fiddles with goats
He dabbles in chickens as well
A spaceship he flies
Through Lancashire skies
He can turn you to gold with a kiss
He's a ghost driven mad
By his alien dad
And.... Are you TOTALLY sure about this?

Thursday morning and I board
the Preston train, a dumpy DMU,
but less of a cattle-truck today.

Over the bridge or beneath
lines to Platform 5 to wait:
Branson's Scarlet Pendolino
will glide in soon bound
for Birmingham - wonder
who I shall meet and share
travelling moments with ?

At the caverns of New Street
I must wend to Moor Street
and a Chilterns train trundling
me south for Warwick's 1,100th.
birthday weekend and 100 years
since trains of Lancashire PALS
cattle-trucked themselves to
Flanders fields never to return.

(c) C J Heyworth June 2014

Hob nailed clogs and leather boots are what gives this man his homely roots
I puts them under me bed at night and in the morning I choose which pair is right and that depends on my mood.

Food is also a big contributor, I'd go a mile for hot *** or a pound of tripe and gripe if they were not up to scratch.
No, thee cannot match what we lads have and what we calls our own,born and raised we've grown in God own Land and if not God then someone even greater had a hand in this.

Lancashire the golden shire,not that them Yorkshiremen would agree with that sentiment but if God or whoever it was meant for that lot on t'other side o' pennines to be an agreeable sort,
he or she would never have invented such a sport as
cricket.

Who bowls without being too speedy?
Who'd bowl 'til his fingers were bleedy?
  For England he should
  But selection no good
Lancashire's leftie, Gary Keedy.

A Poem by my alter ego, Count Orlok, the ******* vampire bat*

O how the blood lust ravages me,
My thirst for the red nectar of life is all-powerful.
I rise after nightfall from my grave eager for the slaughter
And I soar into the night sky like a bat out of Hell
(a pretty accurate description if I may make an aside).

I have reached new victims in a new town to quench my thirst
But the stench emanating from the slums of Oldham
Totally kills my ******* appetite stone ******* dead.
With a shrieked "South-East Lancashire can get knotted"
I fly off, having soiled myself at both ends in disgust.

Huevos Cabreaos
followed by an Americano,
taking respite from those morning Lowry figurines with their bon bon shopping priorities.
A Puerto Rican girl has just passed the La Tasca informal interview
and is immediately hugged by her awaiting friends,
life is so fast and we all think like wikipaedia, fragments of momentary knowledge ,
even the menu here has a photographic memory lock,
outside a Big Issue seller makes his first sale
the broadest Lancashire accent,
can soothe somebody's day,
here is the reality of listening too.

****** on by bonny dogs
and soaked by the fog
that clipped back the grass round its base
and the face of it
was a lamp that lit up the dark.
Standing soulfully lame
with a name quite generic
and in a cobbled street so specific to the
Lancashire town.

As night comes down across the Pennines
and the lads on the late shift go back down the mines
the warm light remembers more times than it cares too
now old
past its prime
it stands a monument to the time
when ladies in bustles
bustled past
casting shadows it seemingly grows
or is that my imagination?

The government de-flowered me
it stripped me naked and
overpowered me
while the state police sat and watched it
on CC TV,

Perverts.

did we vote for this?

Election fever hits the town like a
dose of chicken pox and when the
fox is in the coop
they only do what foxes do
count coup,
I don't blame them, the
sly old dogs.

and the E.U
is how it's said in Lancashire
with an accent tha' knows
like
eeh you
yeah you know who and we
know who and they know you
and you're ******.

When they check you out for microphones
they're measuring you up for the glue in your bones.

It's a bit of a giggle,
a laugh or two
then the government screws you
and what can you do?

I keep company and sit

with the empty shells

and yet the clam pit's full,




perhaps there was a cull on clams.




I claim my free prize,




I see potatoes with

the eyes that don't see me

oh goodie, goodie,

chips for tea.




We're either in it for the money or the fame and altruism's just a name  that rolls off eager tongues

so

I play dominoes with those who play with blank dull faces in spots I'd rather be than having tired old chips for tea and still the eyes cannot see me




it comes again to what we know and what we grow and who plants where and when

a company indeed of men, primitive, Methodist, I've gotten ****** with most of them

in the fields and down the pub by half past ten for half a pint of brutish beer, we are only what there is out here and what we give is not too much or not a touch on what we should.




This rambling day,

ivy I would rather be than that

with eyes but who sees me?

a rose, a rose, she grows

but not so quick as can't be cut.




In Yorkshire they aspire

In Lancashire, perspire,

In Wales they have a choir

I prefer to sweat.




As you might plainly see or

as it seems to me to be

poetry's a conjuring,

something

to clear the system out

akin to Ex-Lax

I have no doubt.

I was on a train out of Chorley
Happy to be sad to be leaving
Smalltalking strangers with a great accent
Hot and uncomfortable because my super cool leather jacket wasn't breathing.

Lancashire, you've made me think!
Actually, trains make me feel pensive.
Or was it Mrs Barton?
Bumbling and hypersensitive (in a nice way)

"Remain vigilant through your journey"
"Do not leave your heart unattended or it may be destroyed"
We'll get into Cardiff at zero zero six teen
That's technically Friday; there'll be drunks to avoid.

We're past Crewe and I know
Younger me made the right decision.
The path I sometimes hesitate to follow
Is bold, beautiful and scenically inefficient.

It twists and turns, trees stream
Past the train's windows
The sky looks lovely tonight
A candyfloss cloud for each of my woes (only three or four obstruct the sunset and they make it shine all the softer)

Mother of a lover, you said
You thought you'd never see me again
You often think of me, and will "follow me".
Facebook makes it easy to pretend.

it was so long ago
I was not much more than a boy.
I noticed her in the office
blonde classy and oh so ****.
in those days I got romantically excited
if a breeze passed by my chinos.
I asked her for a date
to go to the movies she accepted.
then she took me home
to meet her mother the dragon.
her father was dead.
she was possessive of her daughter
and hated me from first glance.
the feelings were mutual.
finally she went out for the evening.
and I was alone with her beautiful daughter.
I got what I wanted and had ***
it was not making love
I did not understand the difference back then.
I lost interest after that
the chase was more exciting than the act.
six weeks later she told me she was pregnant.
back then the only option was marraige.
I got drunk at the wedding
it felt more like a funeral to me.
we had to live with her mother
we had no money.
and her hate for me festered daily.
my new wife would not have ***
with her mother asleep in the next room.
we drifted from each other further each day.
I started going to the pub nightly.
coming home drunk and noisy.
the arguments were loud
and finally her mother threw me out.
my mother would not let me back home.
her down to earth Lancashire upbringing.
you made your own bed lad
now go and lie in it.
I saw my wife in town
we sat in the square and talked.
I thought how beautiful she was
and what a swine I was.
she wanted me back
she said she had always loved me.
I told her I would live in garden shed
before I would go back to her mother's.
we looked around for somewhere to live.
and found a tiny flat more of a rathole really.
but she fixed it up with second hand furniture.
and cans of paint.
we slept in our home for the first time.
we made love not ***
I knew the difference now.
by the time the baby came
we were friends
I think I loved her then.
it took two more years for me
to know I loved her.
we spent the last twenty five years
together and she is my friend
my lover and my companion.
we raised a family together.
and became grandparents  together.
so I did not get a romcom movie
love affair.
but somehow against all odds.
we found a kind of loving.

Racing now, well out of control
the charabanc rushed away down the hill
the man from in front who was carrying the red flag
ran after it with a powerful will
but the old charabanc had a full head of steam
and was not going to stop on its own
the driver it seems had left off the brake
and he too chased along as he moaned.

The speed limit set for this new kind of bus
was just four miles an hour at the most
but the speed it had gathered as it fair raced along
would easily get it first past the post
but this old charabanc was running on steam
so its boiler was pushing out clouds
and eventually all of the water ran dry
when it stopped in front of the crowds.

The driver caught up, the flagman caught up
as it happened there was no damage done
so they filled it with water and started it up
and sheepishly drove away from the fun
with the flagman in front with a frown on his face
as he listened to the charabanc’s hiss
for he no longer trusted the driver and his brake
and he was sure he’d not signed up for this.

©Joe Wilson – Charabanc on the run 1900

I dedicate this to my late grandfather-in-law, Norman, who as a boy carried the red flag. He later went on to own the company and I was very fond of him.

If you read this aloud with as broad a Lancashire accent as you can manage you'll get the idea I'm conveying. :-)

My dear departed, big-hearted dad used to say,
if you pick your nose your brains will fall out,

I've met several people who must have picked their nose
those people who never know which way the wind blows

and to me, it just shows
how clever my dear dad was.

It's a good day to live, to die, to try and write
I might even say it's a good day to wonder
outside of Pandora's keyhole
but you'd think it was a euphemism,
an alchemy when in reality it's a truism
as real as this.

If you'd told me the secret
let me in on where you keep it
we could do away with injustice
as you do away, every day.

In Lancashire
which is where the cheese is from and
on some promenade or off on the side
they're going to frack

Westminster backed the money men
and now we're ******* in knots
so
tell me how local is local when London's
disloyal?

I'd ask a Royal
but there's never one about when
the **** hits the fan,
well
not since Princess Diana
but
that's another sad story.

The fugitives invaded me in the
sixties series somewhere on
TV,
one armed bandits
one eyed half wits
we watched it all
Janssen
Thinnes and
that lot on the bins
for
a touch of class.

Alf Garnett
he could be a gas
and Irma down the Street
with her
coronation chicken feet.

Taken over
one channel at a time
sublime?


Well it was all in Black and White,
so we could tell the day from night, but
not real life you understand
just pictures on a screen
now repeated
though I have seen them all before
I watch again
I so adore

**** York

Samantha,
wiggling her nose

Bouquets of barbed wire
tied to a rose.

Top cat smarter than Kojak
and the Flintstones in their
dream homes down in Bedrock.

Knock me up some dreams to dream
and I'll scream ******
Norman Bates
Hitchcock laughed at
those blind dates.

Niven
Cribbens
Poppins

moons and balloons and railway children
who'll then tell me where it went then?
Standing for the Anthem,
auntie Beeb and then some
chips and curry sauce of course
it's how we rolled in
Lancashire

You have no idea how much
I want to be there
under the glare of a
prairie Sun.

you could not conceive
how much I believe
in the rule of the gun
under the glare,

but what's done
is done

I'm the son of a farmer
from Lancashire
tapped out on the wireless
but
the sun is so
pitiless
out on the prairie.

My Grandfather,
with his bare hands
built that house on our
fertile land,
were I was born and did reside
and there it stil does stand.
Rite on the borderline
of Greater Manchester
and Merseyside.

Since the day I could walk
and way before I did talk,
I'd help a little
with sickle and pitch fork,
and I'd watch the workers
like a hawk.

One day I'd reached my prime,
my farther said I'd  come of age,
and then at last came the time
for me to get my first ever wage.

"Now its time for you to get paid
(Great maybe now I'll get laid.)
Have a think about investing
(does not sound interesting)
In some great machine
like a tractor,
so your workload does lessen"
(Or maybe I'll live the dream
and get on X factor,
now I can pay for a singing lesson.)
                            
"You tended well to our crop
a bumper harvest you did yield.
Best we've had for years
Good on ya son."
"Great now I can sit on the Kop
always wanted to see Anfield
and go out for beers
around Goodison!"

I got dressed up to the nines,
on a sunny day ,in the finest Lacoste.
Here come the good times
In the big city I got lost.

Thier was some kind of parade
for those with pride.
I was given a serenade
by a chap with his hair dyed.
"Have no fear come in for a beer
you dont have to be queer
all are  welcome here."
Was not sure what that implied
but I said thanks and went inside.

First place I'd been in Liverpool.
Bunch of lads inside playing pool.
I picked up a que
and asked could I play to,
they were not cool            
"Who the hell are you?"
I did not sound Merseyside
so they took me for a fool.

For what it was worth I tried to explain.
"Only had to bunk six stops on train.
I'm local enough so dont complain.
I'm the man that grows your scran,
digging the earth in the pouring rain."

"Stop your bul you wool,
you sound like some kind of manc,
we'll give your ars a spank!"

I  was not sticking around for abusing.
I downed my tonic
and out the door I did walk.
Although I did find it amusing,
and somewhat ironic,
that a scouser could take the ****
out of the way anybody did talk.

Feeling dejected and worried
I'd almost come to harm
I went back to work on my farm
to the Job I'd hurriedly rejected.

But then the nights did draw in
and it did start to get colder
and again I felt my life was boring,
need to live a little before I get older.

Had enough of merseyside
with thier closed off unions.
I'll try my luck on the other side.
I'll go meet the Mancunions.

Yes its going to be great,
yes I'll have a night to remember.
I'm on the lash around Deansgate,
on the twenty fourth of December.

Strait in first place I saw
It looked all I'd hoped for
and more, top draw.

They had an event of some kind
seemed to me it was for charity.
I'm not usually one for morality
but twas night before Christmas
so I did not mind.

A fundraiser for the down and out
refugees that were homeless and brasic.
Some were prancing, call it dancing,
others just hanging out.
The juke box was banging out
a Stone roses classic.

"Pint of smooth."
All stopped to move,
I felt the needle scratch out of that groove,
and no creature was stirring In that public house
not even a mouse...
When I say nothing was stirring
thier was three hundred pair of eyes
that did stare at me  from all sides.
But you know what I'm saying.
I open gob, record scratches off,
stops playing,
and no creature was stirring
in that public house, not even a mouse
and the barman, he looks at me and he says.
"Are you Scouse?"

"No bro
I meen no are kid
and I'm here to spend
doe you know so
dont flip your lid."

"Whats that you said?
What do you meen
what am I doing here?
I'm Lancashire!
Born and bred
I'm out thier in my wellies
watering turnips to keep
you townies fed!"

"I'm not on tour
I'm no pretender."
Was going well for me
until they all saw me
take a selfy
outside the Haçienda.

In these modern times
most try our best
to be excepting of the rest.
Strait, gay, white or brown,
but I say its just as important
to extend that hand of friendship
to those in the next town.

For after all,
if we got together
and gathered our masses
we would surely be the most awesome,
the very best.
We.
The great working classes
of Englands North West!

(20 minute poetry)


Hoodies oh goodie I'm in for a treat,
I shall pull up a chair and put up my feet
the show is about to begin.

In the red corner is *****, he looks a bit ropey, wouldn't trust him with a dog on a lead.
And in the blue corner weighing in at some tonnage from Sandwich in Kent,
is bald headed Bob who looks a bit of a **** with his pink leotard trying hard not to be the **** that he is.

Showbiz Sally's getting really rather pally with my right leg, she'd beg to differ, but something's getting s... Wait.. Ha, a comb in my pocket and I nearly broke it or 'Brock it' as they say up Lancashire way.

St. Paul's just a stop on the way to the bank and Bob's just told Frank of his love.

And the crew is cast out at Holborn, I doubted they'd stay,
for more entertainment one needs the circle line,
I'm on my way.

Not one day passes that I do not think of this slender link we’ve had
In this time so short so much I have learned from our brief cohort
That I save myself pain by forgetting this seat you hold in my soul
Rejoicing in every single sole exposure or clue this future may hold
For you and me so separately existing yet so close I feel you writhing
In my heartbeat

My logic has head start as I cannot see your mind before me
It saws the man within me into two true beings which must be honoured
By luna we are coloured emotion so raw it restores us to our former self
Puts reality on the shelf so I may gasp view from my temporary podium
Make some sense of this loneliness I feel when you are far away
Yet here to stay above me

Whether it makes change to this being is my choice
Yet seeing these words laid down before me
Makes want to stay this passion
For stunting these growing desires
That phantom princess bestows upon me
With her wise non-chalance
I will take no chance

These pesky mystics have stepped up their game.
The moon has locked me in her gaze
As I lay my head within lion’s haze
This maze ***** within my being betrays
The memory faded by passage to Sion

I am high on you
Still
Against my will
Almost
For it elates my thrill
For life
For all I see right but for severance unknowing
Of what befalls the dark side not showing me the future
Impatience immature for which
I beg forgiveness
Honesty pure will tell tale of life's sweetness
I have found in feeling so profoundly
About your energy

It has caused a synergy within me and I cannot help but be grateful
For the music that flows in my veins now grows ten-fold
By moon the scribe flows
As Lancashire rainfall releases the grip
On my open heart
The best part
All this time I am smiling
Yet lunar promise shows you are far from me
This moon has me state intention so temporary
For she is now gone
Here ends the moon that shone

I was thinking that this is a good time
to
catch up with some friends of mine
unfortunately
they weren't thinking the same

unlike me
they didn't have the urge to see
what scandals the clock had
marked on me

a good time?
guessing it's any time we enjoy.

I enjoy old time,
pre decimal
when dinosaurs were commonplace
and holidays were spent at home.

Christmas?
what yuletide ride on you on?

Christmas has gone mate
sold off to China by
the welfare state

no presents for anyone.

There's a moral clause
for Santa

dilemma's are the nemesis
we can
stay indoors, get wired
or
go to work, get fired

I want to be inspired.

Drop me from a B52
you can do it
I
know you can.

Now
I'm
off the beaten track
eaten dinner
can't go forward
can't head back
limbo
looms,
which reminds me of the old
cotton mills
on the rolling hills of Lancashire
and the yolk yellow eye of
the fried egg sky
in those Summers
long ago.

and put your feet up by the coal fire,
eat the pudding and keep ferrets,
alternatively
across the way is Lancashire
the place that put God on the map
and pigeons on the front line.

you could spend your time between the two
but why would you?

If you love rolling hills,
Bradford and half-forgotten
cotton mills
there's little hope for you,
but if you like
hot-***
whippets and
Scafell Pike
ger on yer bike
and head for
Lancashire.

I'm not sure who you were speaking to but the man in the greatcoat assumed it was him and he could have been 'the thin man' or 'the third man' but not the 'bird man of Alcatraz'

see me and
it's jazz painting by Dali
or possibly
Toyah slings Goya on the canvas
she's a lass is our Toyah
but is she from Lancashire?
doubtful.

Tracey
will you race me
around your unmade bed?

There's
nothing peculiar in being peculiar
the peculiar thing is it's not.

Woke up at sun up
as the night burned
in Bacup.

Lancashire bred
no use for t'bed
'cept for occasional slumber
and if she calls my number
the less occasional
fumble.

It looks a nice day
for *******
on a boat out
from t' bay
or just for laying and
for lazing on sand.

It would be grand
if thee'd come and join me
for a dip in t'pool,
then lunch from the chippie
and afterwards a walk down
the prom' with
a Mr Whippy along
for company.

I'm off now
wi' nets,
no answer from thee
I guess I'll be
******* today.