Past & Present

7. Feb, 2017

My net on bamboo, my jar on a String
At the boating lake in early spring
Watching the stickleback watching its track
Poised at the lake edge ready to attack
The model yacht’s sailing, catching the wind
Across the ripples the yacht’s they skimmed
The wooden boats, dads struggling with oars
The lake beside the Tynemouth shores
Hunting the rock pools for limpet and crab
Using your stick to give them a jab
Watching for bloodsuckers and slippery seaweed
Mapping our steps before you proceed
Forgetting the tide getting caught on the rocks
Seeing your pathway that the water blocks
Climbing cliffs getting rest on a ledge
Little daredevils living life on the edge
Sneaking into the Prior, past the armed Guard
Playing at soldiers a massive bombard
Walking down the pier for no reason at all
Standing on tiptoes looking over the curved wall
Rocking penny shove machines in the amusement arcade
Running off with the pennies we made
Cheeking the parkie in Northumberland Park
Then running off just for a lack
Making bows and arrows out of Bamboo and string
Hit by an arrow did half f**king sting
Climbing trees, making camps in the woods
Nothing but play, no worldly goods
No sense of time just a time full of glee
Getting told off, late for me tea

7. Feb, 2017

When I think back at the way that we live
We had next to nothing, nothing to give
Sunday was bath night, ready for school
Tin bath to the ready, mam on a stool
Scrubbed till it hurt, shiny and clean
Hair washed with that shampoo Voseen
One pair of shoes to wear for the day
Same pair of shoes for going out to play
Bread and dripping to keep hunger at bay
Set meals on the table on every weekday
A wardrobe so small it would fit in a box
two pairs of undies and two pairs of socks.
One pair of trousers, two shirts nylon made
And a woolly jumper, hand knitted homemade
School dinners paid for, you couldn’t afford
Holidays at seaside, nothing aboard
TV’S were massive fourteen inch wide
Only two channels, BBC and ITV on the side
Four jacks for a penny, and sherbet dips
The sweet sticky flavour stuck to your lips
Sweets were a treat maybe once a week
You knew when to be quiet and when to speak
We walked everywhere no money to bus
Walking along without any fuss
Table manners were there and there to be kept
Any food put in front of you, you have to accept
“Please may I leave the table “was always said
If you didn’t eat you meal it was straight off to bed
We never knew what the word “grounded “meant.
But we knew if naughty to the bedroom we went
If a copper caught you and you were up to no good
A clip round the earhole was the norm, understood
Six of the best for the same thing at school
Then stood in the corner to look like a fool
We never asked for, there was nothing to give
All we have was used just to live
Wednesday was favourite, my mother’s home pie
Sat back after with a stomach full sigh
A bedroom for three, brother, sister and me
Toilet outside if you needed a wee
No central heating frost on the inside
Under the blankets we’d snuggle and hide.
In the morning the bedroom was like ice
No hanging around dressed in a trice
Porridge to warm you, mittens on string
Balaclava to beat off the cold winter sting.
Entertainment was to go out and play
Sometimes be lost for the rest of the day
Mother didn’t worry ,out from under her feet
Spending all day out in the street
People were friendly “good morning to you “
Everyone knew you and you knew them to
Shopping was queuing at each different shop
Sometimes we were lucky and sucked a Pear Drop
Darned socks were mended, patches in knee
You couldn’t afford new and mending was free
Nothing was wasted, everything used
The simplest things kept us amused
Mondays were wash days, Automatics didn’t exist
Kitchen covered in a steamy mist
Wringers turned to squeeze out the wet
Mother wiping the forehead sweat
Trains that belched out puffs of steam
Hanging in the air like a full whipped cream
Days at the seaside, bucket and spade
Egg & tomato sarnies your mother made
Woollen bathers that sagged wet through
Your arse on show for the world to view
I sometimes pondered would i relive
When I think back at the way that we live

8. Jan, 2015

When is the Present I know the future and the past.
How long would you say does the present Last.
I think it is now but that’s a moment ago
Is it still here or gone I’m not sure I know
If it’s now, then that now has gone
So it’s now the past, completely forgone
If it’s now gone, then that’s the past.
If it’s to come then that’s a forecast
I’m here now, just a moment ago
If I’m here now where does now go.
If I live in the past I’m out of touch
If I live for the future I yearn too much
If I live for the present I’m in a conscious state
But where has it gone, is my awareness late
They do say that the “The Moment has passed “
Does present exist or it just goes so fast
“For The Moment “when things are unclear
That Moment has it gone or is it still here
“Not a Moment to spare” there it goes
Spare the moment, future propose
And then there is “The Big Moment has arrived “
The moment has now passed , I think we’re deprived
“There is No time like the present “I here you say
But that’s “all in the past “and there to stay
So I reckon I’m not in the present, nor the past
I’m not in the future, I’m just an outcast

Copyright © Graeme Taylor 2013