Archive

poetry

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Thanks to my friends Ant and Karen for the magnetic poetry kits.

(c) Chris Johnson 2019

Advertisements

I was hunting through some old music and lyrics from a band I played in some time ago. I wrote this blues lyric for the lead guitar player who suffered badly with hay fever.

The pollen count is high, and I’m feeling very low
Yeah, the pollen count is high, so I’m feeling very low
My head is dull and aching
Wherever I go

I’m loaded up with drugs, but they aren’t even that much fun
Loaded with lots of drugs, not even that much fun
Still, at least they’re cheap and legal,
I got them from my Mum!

I sneeze, wheeze and sniffle, hate my life when I’m like this
Sneezing, wheezing and sniffing, Man I hate when I’m like this
Wish the pollen count would drop
So I can stop this sniff sniff sniff!

The pollen count is high, and it makes me cross
Yeah, the pollen count is high, man this is so crass
A couple of months and I’ll be better
But then it’ll be Christmas

(C) Chris Johnson 2008

 

I miss the old St Pancras

Hiding in the archway from the rain

The darkness, walls embedded

With the soot of a million trains

 

The newspaper stands’ patina

The noise, deisel fumes, dust

‘Lend us 50p mister?’

Seats all plastic and rust

 

The new station is clean and tidy

Well policed, welcoming, smart

But it’s lost some if its character

And replaced it with modern art

 

I miss the old St Pancras

The gritty, noir place of my youth

Today I closed my eyes on the platform

And returned there for a moment or two.

 

I was lucky enough to be in London on Thursday, a trip I make periodically for work. Whiling away some time waiting for a train I tried to recall the ‘old’ St Pancras, the one I remember from exciting trips as a teenager and early work trips. The poem pretty much wrote itself over a coffee.

(c) Chris Johnson 2018