on hearing a memory

ragged tagged old guy

sawing away on what looks to be

a fiddle even older

scraping out a tune

that an equally scruffed up associate tap dances to

on the pavement


collection tin nearby

into which they doubtlessly hope

more silver than copper will be dropped.


Being in the midst of the crowd surging by

I am virtually jostled almost out of listening range

but I wanted to stop and tell them

(at their convenience)

that the tune takes me back to Junior school morning assembly


Mr Thomas, headmaster 

looking down from the stage in front.

I say looking but it could have also meant searching

for unmoving mouths


wafting the air with his trusty baton

accompanied by Mrs Higgins, deputy head's heavy-handed

plinking and plonking piano playing

both officially encouraging us


to give-sing our thankful praises to the


it's suggestions of an all encapsulating presence of singular godliness


a cloaked underlying indoctrinating way of

guiding our childhood worshipping aspirations

in their preferred directions. 


Yes, I wanted to tell them 

but, decided to let uknown sleeping Gods lie.   


🌷 (2)

◄ me-an ugly and crap harmonica player

unsure prodigal ►


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Thu 18th Jan 2018 00:25

'brillo pads' love it! happy days indeed Pat and Stef.

Rose, you are not wrong in what you say.

Cheers compadres!

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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Wed 17th Jan 2018 11:55

absolutely brillo-pads Leon! happy days before the storm of adulthood and a world religiously committing slow-motion suicide.

P&S xx

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Rose Casserley

Tue 16th Jan 2018 23:11

come to think of it Leon it really was kind of indoctrination but that was in the days before the word became popular.

'decided to let unknown sleeping gods lie' if only we could all do that these days we might help peace to get a better grip.

Rose 💋

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Tue 16th Jan 2018 12:53

no probs, have done tebeho.

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Tue 16th Jan 2018 12:35

Hi I'm new to write out loud and I'd like to ask if you would read one of my poems

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