Neil Young - Harvest Moon (with lyrics)

Question answered.

Many years ago and I mean a long time ago (something over 4,000 years if the Old testament is to be believed) chickens (indeed all birds) did not lay eggs.

They, like mammals, gave birth to almost fully formed offspring. Not an easy thing for a chicken; you try pushing a broiler through your letterbox.

Until one day an incredibly stupid bird was born, a bird that could not distinguish between seed and grit. She would spend her days pecking at anything remotely seed shaped, much to the amusement of the other birds.

They mocked her something rotten, even the birds across the road would come over for a closer mock.

All to no avail, she carried on doggedly; she had true grit, that bird.

Until one day she met a mate. Or rather she became the victim of avian lust and (with grit between her teeth) she conceived.

21 days later, on her newly made nest, rather than forcing out a bird shaped thing with much grimace and cluck, she smiled, sighed, then eased out an egg. which out of ignorance she sat upon for a couple of weeks (A well earned bout of maternity leave) before the egg hatched to reveal the cutest thing imaginable.

The other birds looked on in disbelief and envy until, when hunger took them, the scuttled off to find some grit.

Yes! The chicken came first.

London spring.

A beautiful London day. A blue sky that still constantly amazes after such greyness.

This evening I walked down Portobello Road without a coat without a care but with great attention to detail.

music squirting from the bars and hardly a word of English in earshot but many smiles.

the view from my window where I write is straight out of Blade Runner... Vehicle lights on the Westway, the trains and tubes below. The planes are back; they slide behind the tower blocks on Harrow Road.

Police sirens cut with precision. The busses roar as they turn into Chepstow Road.

London is a great place to be.

The unzipping of the sky

While it was all very pleasant having no aeroplanes overhead for a week I did enjoy watching the first arrival unzip a perfectly clear sky.

The excitement didn't last long though.

The poet at work

St Georges Day poem.

Why St George who was St George

a Roman legionnaire

Caught in the crossfire of sectarian bickering

sanctified by papal spin doctors of divinity

Brought here

A souvenier

By returning crusaders

Like some plastic Eiffel tower

To England's green and pleasant land

A rallying cry for Shakespeare or

A cry for god's sake

Engerland, Harry Redknap and Boy George.

Better the dragon

The undead, unspun dragon

The dragon alive in every English heart

Avoiding bad press

And 3 way debates

Finding Jerusalem

In England's green and pleasant land

Eyeing up the true symbol

Not for him the oak or the rose

But

The Cow

Rip it's horns off, wipe it's arse... And stick it on a plate.

Dragons

I spent much of today researching St George in order to write a poem to recite at a party tomorrow night (St Georges day).

I'm going to write about the dragon instead.

Meat Loaf and plagiarism

The theme of Meatloafs new album:http://www.aceshowbiz.com/news/view/w0001702.html is identical to Tristans Short story called 'Arc of a diver'. First published in May 2009: http://tristanssecretsofmagic.blogspot.com/2009/05/arc-of-diver.html

Shame he couldn't give Tristan a credit.

He tells me he is taking legal advice.

James Auden Photography

http://www.jamesaudenphotography.co.uk/

Hippies

Ashtrays and dead strawberries.

You can learn a lot about a man from the state of his ashtray

This is the ashtray of a man who kills strawberry plants even though they are on the kitchen windowsill. What on earth crossed his mind as he looked at them dying each time he washed up.

A friend suggested that he drank straight from the bottle or can and therefore never needed to wash anything.

The state of the ashtray confirms that.

Ruby.

Many years ago, after a divorce, well meaning friends would suggest 'suitable' new partners for me.

In order to avoid these embarrassing meetings I invented Ruby.

Some months later invention became reality and 'Ruby' entered my life.

Be very careful about what you wish for.

http://tristanssecretsofmagic.blogspot.com/

Clear skies.

Clear skies over England again.

On a normal day there would be a dozen planes in sight at any one time.

Where have they all gone?

I must buy a radio.