Email to TLJ

I think I must’ve sent these to you already but my Alzheimers has got the better of me – anyway here they are (again?)

Sweet Angel T** L**. Ahh, to hear your sweet voice in the morning is the perfect start to my day, how I am hopelessly lost in your goodness, kindness and grace. We talked about you meeting Sue and Chris for lunch and that Sue might say something that may put you in an awkward position and I feel like, fuck it, let’s just tell everyone that we love each other and that everything will be OK! Sounds easy I know. Ho hum, hope you can come see me – I want yr cuddles baby!

Patient Patient
We are harmonious
We are discordant
We are waiting
We are patient
For the patient
We are the patients
Running out of patience

I think I have become a very patient person over the last few years. I never used to have patience with people, especially ‘stupid’ people (or ‘normal’ people maybe – not even sure what I mean here myself!) People who didn’t understand me I didn’t have much time for. I learn from people like yourself that sometimes it is worth the effort to get to know people better and I am making the effort a bit more these days – I’m actually enjoying working here at the moment – there was a certain atmosphere of a team spirit over Christmas which was enjoyable although one or two people seem to be in it for themselves, digging away at people and things that they don’t understand – I guess a sign of immaturity (much as I was immature in my behaviour before when I was younger).

Black Squares
Walking across the tiled floor
Multi-coloured tiles lay out my track
I can choose three different routes
But why do I always choose the black
Black squares – under my feet
Black squares – look so neat
Black squares – lay out my track
square square square
black black black

This is about where I had my first job which had black and white check tiles much like our kitchen had before we had it recovered. Funny how something so trivial could spark a poem out of me in those days – now I write much more emotional style pomes.

Is Martin Sugared
Is Martin sugared?
Is Martin sweet?
Is Martin oblivious
to unbearable heat?
Is Martin cold?
Is Martin hot?
Is Martin what
You’re exactly not?

Martin was a guy I worked with – I wonder what happened to some of those people? The guy I worked with specifically in that first job was in a punk band called the Void (they never amounted to much more than a few legendary local gigs – where I sang with them one time too!). A few years later he became the town mayor – the other contender tried to put shit on him during the election because he was bisexual – his plan however backfired as it was seen as malicious slandering and irrelevant to whether he would be a good mayor or not. And while he was mayor he did all he could for the youth of the town etc (he was about 40 but still a kid in many ways. His name was Phil Webb but everyone called him Piwi – everyone!)

Pot Noodle Steve
Pot noodle for dinner
Pot noodle for tea
Pot noodles believe
In pot noodle Steve

Another guy I used to work with – loved his pot noodles.

Sow the Seed
Here is life or here is dying
Only sin is lack of trying
If we don’t try we may die
Food in need so sow the seed
Next year better next year stronger
Next years furrows that much longer
Plough the field pick the yield
Mouths to feed so sow the seed

Stole four of these lines from another poem (which I forget now).

Snow
It snowed today
Kids shout hurray
Everybody’s out
Hear them shout
Hurray for the snow
Let everybody know
Why does snow get everyone together?
Why only snow not any other weather
I hope it snows some more
I hope it covers the floor
So long as it gets everyone out
To be together to lark about
Snow
Don’t go

Remember vividly the day that inspired this poem. Kids who wouldn’t normally come out and play with our ‘gang’ came out and had snowball fights and all sorts of fun. We can’t have been that bad, can we? Something about the snow must have softened up the parents to let their kids out. Anyway, it was such a great feeling to have everyone together.

Brad’s Mental Institution
It’s a funny little head
It’s got a knob on the top
It’s pointed slightly
You only need tap it lightly
And it sinks in
He’s got a funny little head
With a knob on top
It’s pointed slightly
You only need tap it lightly
And it sinks in
And folds up into an epileptic fit
And sails away on a galactic trip
To where spastic children hold the hammers
That knock you on the head
Strange you turned the tables on yourself
Wake up – it’s time for bed’

Brad was a type of nail I think – that was the kind of stuff I was selling in my first job.

Fun to be Young
Fun to be young again
I still play hide and seek
And I still cheat
Fun to be young
And play in the snow and sun
Knocking on people’s doors
And playing pretend wars
Fun to be young
And where it all goes on
Playing football in the park
And kiss chase after dark
Fun to be young
And forget where it’s all gone

Ain’t it so! I know you feel the same way – probably everyone does.

Acquiesced
The motion on the first part
For the aforementioned first party
Agrees with the second party
That the first part is wrong
The first party and second party
Are agreed that the motion on the second part
Should be agreed by both parties
And both parties agreed after not too long
Acquiesced – I give in

Piwi was reading a book which had this word in so I wrote a poem about it.

Jabberhead
Jabber
Jabber
Jabberhead
Open your mouth
Ten miles wide
Vibrate your larynx
All can see inside
Laugh your mouth
Ten miles high
Waggle your tongue
Words start to fly
Jabber
Jabber
Jabberhead

Have a recording of this song – found that tape recently too – am contemplating bringing it in but fear you will laugh at me because it is just me dinking around with a crummy guitar and awful singing! I know this will only encourage you more to want to listen to it!

2 Litre Virgins
Those two litre girls
Fighting men of the real world
Coax them back to bed
And slap them in the head
They’ll go all around the world
Those two litre girls
Boasting how loose they are
Snogging in the back of the car
Get back to your flat
Where she’ll show you where she’s at
‘You’re not touching that’
Freeze
Two litre virgins standing at the pump
Telling you when to jump
Boasting they’re as wide as a bucket
You know what to do – if it moves
Fuck it

I guess I must’ve got teased a lot in school! Didn’t like the way girls could lead you on and then drop you. I remember having a huge crush on a girl when I was about 12 or 13 and couldn’t believe it when she asked me out – only to find next day her and her friends laughing at me for believing it could’ve happened. Hmmm – deep emotional scars. I still love girls though, better than boys if you know what I mean – I got more shit from boys in the end.

Strange
Some people think I’m strange
But I don’t think I am
Some people just treat me
Like a stranger in a strange land
Some people think I;m strange
But I don’t think I am
They say I cut myself off
I don’t think they understand
But I’m also looking and thinking
They’re strange

Really clicked when you said your sisters thought you were strange. I think it is an endearing quality (I like to find strange people) and really we are not that strange at all.