Monday, September 27, 2010

London Remembering

London remembering

A place of escape
After sex, drugs, youth, rock and roll
The university with Bibles, Chekov and DNA
I asked you to come and you had nothing else to do
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose,"
Playing on a round table long before stereos and CD

We made the fair waiting on tables and worried our parents distraught
So young, young and beautiful and idealistic
New world going old world
Old world dubious and worn
We laughed a lot so young, making love any time of day
Robust dancer bodies, young friends, dreams and memories

The plane over is forgotten while arriving is a myriad of images
Castles and cobblestone, so many young people then
The baby boom and fashion, Beatles and Donovan
Oxford Street, Trafalgar Square, Ocean all around a rainy island
Buckingham Palace, red coats and tall black hats, Guards changing
Picadilly, I asked you to pose for pictures and we travelled soon to Amsterdam

After bicycling Europe, Octoberfesting, Barcelona, Algeciras and Morocco
We stumbled and staggered home to the known spoken word
Soft green rolling hills and English. Everyone was so friendly
"Colonials," they called us, letting us stay because we were kids.
And artists. We were so creative then. Our bodies young and noble
Minds inventive, reading history like drinking wines. Oh the British Museum
The Tate Gallery, dancing all night to jazz, drinking shanties, light and tans
There was wonder in the rain. Fish and chips in newspaper South Putney
Speaker's Corner, Hyde Park. Little golden plagues on every house famous names
Look, she said, Shakespeare. Plays and back row seats. The Theatre, dear!
Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's, organ music, choral music and Moody Blues

We worked in offices and danced the nights we didn't feed the meter for heat.
Christmas hampers from Harrods, letters to family back home,
You didn't want to go and I made you. Unforgiveably taking you home
To the New World where I could go to university and you could have a family
And our parents could rest easy knowing that you'd not be bombed again by IRA
And I'd not be attacked in subways by gangs intent on raping single girls
I hardly could defend myself let alone you but we had been abroad
And returned dressed in layers of modern clothes, bags full
And minds broadened by the endless wonders of London.

It was years again I'd visit alone. Walking on streets we'd strolled alone as couples
Now wall to wall masses of pressing humanity and double decker buses full
I was a professional then, John Lennon dead and Mick Jagger still alive
Sir Christopher Wren all in vogue and Market Gardens pretty on a sunny day.
I revel led in the city and believed I'd not return for sometime
Eating a steak and kidney pie sitting near a Roman wall. Heathrow so busy.

Then again and again I keep coming back to this mystical city upon the Thames.
Remembering Oxford and Cambridge rowing teams competing.
Soccer and cricket and Princess Margaret jumping horses outside the city
Where Churchill lived a long time ago. One would never know there was a War
Or a Battle of Britain, the industry of this people. Majestic Empire
This great ocean empire. God save the queen.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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