My MS Diary (almost) No Sartrean Yesterday my partner and I partook of our weekly visit to the town centre. This ‘visit’ may not be on the same day every week but we feel a need to get out once a week. Our route around the town centre is very…
A festival of nuclear disarmament and art, poetry, prose, music, badges, leaflets, peace and love when CND had the band stand booked for a whole Saturday in 1980 or thereabouts somehow I was selected to be in charge of music. I managed to get a band from London booked for…
“I do not like thee, Doctor Fell , The reason why – I cannot tell ; But this I know , and know full well, I do not like thee, Doctor Fell”. Sometimes members of a family meet and the talk turns to their memories. On one such occasion I…
Poetry in Lotion A woman, her face caged, epee in hand. Crimson lipsticked mouth, black liner eyes. Men in suits, in the background, watching her. A highly erotic image in the archive of Crawley Museum. Fencing is a sweaty business, the photo cannot be true. But I love it, and…
A Crawley Parody PreludeFree time free land free loveEverything was free It was the season for bicyclesAnd we wanted to raceOn a track with lots of featuresTough, very little grace Someone thought to ask DonBecause he had the toolsImplements borrowed fromThe councils unused pools Donald a real skivvyReady within two…
