All of the noise

rushed through the open window,

as I willingly wound my way through the Purbecks;

from the Cove to Old Harry,

a chalky knife on the map. 

Is this the life?



The dilapidated rust bucket rumbles along as it

takes me to the outside;
toking to this song, a mind expand

A fiery gun hand,
my troubles all left behind.



Where there’s all creations,

their buds and spawn; 

here I am!
without a care,

ensconced within a bed of air,


joining in celebrating

the wind ruffling my hair.


As a tone deaf chorus leaves my lip,

sung from my very own big ship;


happiness and joy

fills my face
with a beaming smile

a mile wide,
a dirty boy
with no bright side,
so often lost to his dreaming.


All around the world

ships and irons are heard clanging;

a banging of our headbones,

waiting to go off

and things.



On land and in the sea,
so far from tidy suburbia;

all the poor soldiers know,
despite their charms,
that’s the way we all go…

Written for the GloPoWriMo Day 18 prompt:
Craft your own poem that recounts an experience of driving/riding and singing, incorporating a song lyric.

It surely was a joyous time, somewhere around 1989, I’d guess, driving my old shitty Morris Marina around the Purbeck Hills, checking out Lulworth Cove and Old Harry’s Rocks, smoking a joint and blasting Cardiacs songs with the windows down and me crooning along as best as I could, for no one in particular, perhaps a tern or two.

The bolded words are some of my favourite Cardiacs lyrics taken from the song ‘Big Ship’ – a joyous anthem that I shared often with The Pond during the late 80s shows. There are many other references to Cardiacs’ songs contained within, along with some band folklore. The title is an obvious nod to the master musician Dr Tim Smith, whom I miss dearly (despite never speaking to him), as do so many others who are ‘in it’.

All this ties in nicely to the recent release of Cardiacs’ LSD album, which is currently giving me earworms.