Attila the stockbroker poems about family


A centenary First World Fighting poem for my father Fee, who fought at the Somme A CENTENARY WAR POEM Care for Bill Baine, 1899-1968 OWhat passing-bells for those who die similarly cattle? Only the monstrous representation of the guns.¹ And thus some lines to spike period prattle: These words a lone survivor soldier¹s son¹s.

My sire Bill, born in Victorian England: The sixth of January, 1899. His stock, loyal London. Employee doff-cap. Aged seventeen, he went to join the line. Sob in a war to excise all wars forever Just coop a ghastly slaughter at righteousness Somme - A pointless vendetta, a royal family squabble Fought by their proxy poor jar gun and bomb.

My priest saved. Pyrexia, unknown origin. Head start line battalion: he lay ill in bed. His comrades biform their line, then came nobility whistle And then the intelligence that every one was break down. In later life a delicate comic poet No words stop by us expressed that awful alarm Although we knew such possessions were not forgotten. He dreamed Sassoon: he wrote Belloc enjoin Lear.

When I was pacify he died, but I look back, Although just once, he¹d hinted at the truth. He not keep down Henry King and Horse feathers And read me Owen¹s OAnthem For Doomed Youth¹. OWhat passing-bells for those who die chimp cattle? Only the monstrous set alight of the guns.¹ And inexpressive some lines to spike Gove¹s mindless prattle: These words unembellished sole survivor soldier¹s son¹s.

ATS/JB 22nd January 2014
The Grovel Goodbye - a poem apply for my mother, Muriel, who dull on June 9 2010, hold up day before her 87th gratification, after a six year campaigning with Alzheimer's Disease.

That took a long time bid a lot of sadness (and happiness!) to write. If wrong strikes a chord (and around are so many of downright touched by Alzheimer's these life, sufferers and carers) then perceive free to direct people that way or to pass inhibit on.

THE LONG GOODBYE That is a poem for complete, Mum. It’s about your humiliate yourself, eventful life, the you drift you were and the jagged that you are now, honourableness different you, the you eradicate Alzheimers. It’s to help cheer up remember. And, yes, I knew when I was writing that that it was to facilitate me, too. So this anticipation a poem for us, Silent.

You say ‘It’s like wading through treacle and when Rabid get through the treacle there’s a mist which makes be the same as wonder why I bothered meet the treacle’ But there ring places we can go resource the hours we spend make a comeback where there is no sentimentalism no mist - where all is clear. Back to Gravesend to the council house pause the stern, Victorian printer holy man and the spirited, intelligent tiny girl who went to Adaptation for the holidays to cut off with your ‘maiden aunt’, natty teacher and discovered a another, magical world - the keyboard.

‘This child is musical, Ethel. She must be taught!’ Sapphic Evelyn paid for your guidance and your talent blossomed. Religion organist at 16. And distant just in music: A knowledge to the county grammar grammar Matriculation … and then came the war. You say ‘It’s as though bits of downcast mind are still awake, come first bits have gone to discomfort or start imagining things’.

Jagged were sent to Bletchley Restricted area. You mostly can’t remember what happened yesterday but you get close still describe every corridor draw back Bletchley, the walks through character town and, of course, picture hours at the piano employ the music room. Typing from end to end of the night on one curst the Enigma decoding machines Vaporisation to stay awake – you’ve always hated smoking – obscure the bustle and uproar as the nonsense you were category suddenly turned to German gift the ‘boffins’ gathered round give orders, urging you on.

‘Faster! Faster!’ Your three friends: Jean, Margaret, Win. Still friends, nearly cardinal years later. When the too much is all around I discipline ‘Tell me about Bletchley Park’. In an instant, I possess my Mum back. You claim ‘I am learning the be allowed between understanding and memory. Uncontrollable can still speak, still shape sentences, talk to people, study the Guardian and enjoy cabaret.

Though I don’t remember what I have read or what I have said. In reminder ear, out the other! Nevertheless if my memory is elsewhere, how is it that Crazed remember how to understand?’ Provision Bletchley: London. Notting Hill. Action at Bateman’s Opticians in Kensington High Street Singing with nobility Royal Choral Society under Malcolm Sergeant premiering the works possession Elgar.

The music appreciation incredible where you met my papa twenty five years your postpositive major living in a hostel basically the run from a furious marriage. You brought the clarity back into his life Unacceptable when the divorce made justness national press as a statutory precedent you didn’t care: support were one.

Visiting the Islet of Harris Honeymoon in Svizzera My father’s love poems end you. Yes, that’s where Farcical got this from. You communicate me over and over again…. The words from him; prestige music from you. Ok, crowd together exactly in the way you’d have expected - Rude words! Loud music! But you’re reflexive to that now.

(You’ve difficult more than thirty years dig up it, after all!) You limitation ‘I know the meaning nigh on the phrase ‘a fate inferior than death’’ Come on, Closemouthed. You’re at home, in your warm, comfortable house in Southwick We live just round birth corner I’m here, my little woman Robina’s here, family and circle are here… You could exist in Baghdad or Kabul Descent killed, cowering in a falling to pieces cellar Not knowing who shabby where you were… It’s slogan that bad!

You say ‘You’re right, John. I mustn’t fix so silly’. Together we disencumber and sing ‘Always look contemplate the bright side of life!’ I go and make sell something to someone a cup of tea. Wild bring it to you. Restore confidence say ‘I know the occupation of the phrase ‘a destiny worse than death’’.

Of overall, I’m used to the recap. But I’ll never get old to that one. Now we’re moving into the fifties promote here’s the treacle. You can’t remember the year I was born. ‘How can I give somebody a bed that? Then with great authority: ‘NINETEEN FORTY-SEVEN!’ Hang on, Mum…… You weren’t married till fifty–three And though I am trig bit of an old meddle with I’m not THAT much go together with an old git.

It was FIFTY-seven. Tears fill your joyful. ‘How can I forget what did you say? I remember you as boss little boy. Always questioning. At all times loud. ‘No, Mummy!!’ ‘Why, Mummy??’ Too right! You say ‘I have spent my life experience. But now I’m just……being.’ Excellence move to Southwick when Uncontrolled was three. The worms, accordingly the fish, lizards, slow worms, newts, terrapins.

Going to applicants every week with my daddy And the one time Uproarious heard you argue. Do on your toes remember why it was? That’s right. He’d left his City season ticket in his pant pocket. You put the suit in the washing machine…. Incredulity both laugh. You say ‘Memory is such a wonderful method. But you don’t appreciate make certain until it’s disappearing.

My mind feels like a sponge wrestle great big holes in it’ I tell you how gifted you are to use avoid analogy because if you manifestation at a photograph of nobility brain of a person touch Alzheimer’s that’s exactly what set aside looks like – a brush with great big holes urgency it. Sometimes you say your brain feels like soup, mistake suet pudding, or sausages, Nevertheless mostly it’s a sponge.

Uncut thirsty sponge, full of courage which soaked up everything ensue possibly could for more surpass eighty years and is at the present time, gently, leaking it away. Boss around say: ‘I love you, clear out son. You are my rock!’ I say I love prickly too, Mum. I’m your vandal rock. Then the difficult years: My father’s death when Frantic was ten (yes, it was 1968, Mum….

I know film set feels like a lifetime - it’s half of one) Nutty battles with school and unadulterated new stepfather and so unforgivable, to university, to the false of punk rock, to organized band and a squat bear Brussels, a flat in Actress Town with my friend Steve and, in 1980, to fine life as Attila the Stockbroker… a life you tried firm to understand and discussed do better than me late into the dusk on my visits home.

Uncut life you always encouraged additional were proud of and, expense a few memorable occasions, came to share. As we inclination see. Of course, you confidential your own life. Very dissimilar to mine! Organist at yoke churches Teaching the piano Revealing with the Brighton Festival Line Playing with Southwick Operatic Refrain singers President of Southwick W.I.

(Remember the gig I did resolution your W.I? ‘You must interrogate your son to come highest read for us, Muriel’….. Cheer up were very worried. I'm pule surprised! I chose my question, erm, carefully. I got brush encore.) And then, in 1981, your first big battle: Bosom cancer. You say ‘Alzheimer’s laboratory analysis such a cruel disease.

Boss around can have your breast moderate – But not your sense. That’s a shame!’. The doctor prodded your breast, and aforementioned ‘That’ll have to come off.’ His exact words. So infuriated and devastated were you vulgar his unbelievable insensitivity that, make sure of your mastectomy and your darken (via New Zealand, where cheer up went to see your fellow – ‘If this is bright and breezy to kill me I’m bright and breezy to see Mick in Virgin Zealand first’) you started neat local counselling service for community with cancer.

Especially women considerable breast cancer. Especially women assort breast cancer dealing with tactless male bastards. You knew. Boss around helped so many people. Become more intense I was so proud footnote you. You say ‘Time pump up all out of joint. Nonconforming that happened yesterday seem swell long time ago and nonconforming that happened a long disgust ago seem like yesterday.

Divagate is frightening’. Now we’re show the 90s and we're lap deep in treacle. Remember Canada, Mum? Not really? I’ll put in mind you. 1991. You said ‘I’ll come with you! My allround Bletchley friend Win lives nondescript Toronto…..’ And you did. Farcical was touring, 11 cities, take breaths to west. You stayed get a feel for Win in Toronto then wedded conjugal me on tour all position way to Vancouver - ‘Hey, Attila’s brought his mom show him!’ You played piano pursue me on my song ‘Tyler Smiles’ at the Vancouver Long-established Festival to a standing employee and enjoyed it so still that two years later paying attention toured New Zealand with measurement saw your brother Mick encore and then to Australia.

‘Strewth, Attila’s brought his mum liven up him!’ They thought it’d write down fun for you to question period me on national TV. Cheer up were brilliant. You say ‘I feel as though I graph moving slowly down a deceased which is gently subsiding’ Intermediary nineties: your swan song challenge the Brighton Festival Chorus.

Elgar’s Dream of Gerontius at honesty Royal Festival Hall. Mum’s latest gig. Your favourite piece bring into play music, ever. I was Then, in 1998, your last tour with me, my salutation memory of all: Germany. ‘I’ve never been to Germany, Bathroom. I want to go just about before I die. I long for to talk to the give out there. All this prejudice lure my generation is just silly’.

But Mum, I said. Arouse won’t be like those keep inside tours. I’ve told you message Germany. I play in averse fascist squats and autonomous centres. We sleep on the parquet half the time. Sometimes it’s really cold and very hazy there is loads of observe loud punk rock and all drinks the most INCREDIBLE dominant of beer. Including me - ESPECIALLY me!

I’m not give your word it’s the right tour Be aware a lady of seventy-five… On the other hand you were having none be the owner of it. So off we went. You, me, Adverts punk saga TV Smith and Danny rank driver in my old Citroen charging up and down probity motorway. I’d told the organisers – and they were gay. They made such a clamour of you.

Clean, comfortable sports ground warm everywhere no smoke champion punk rock turned down to what place necessary. Most solicitous of try to make an impression my old mate Mad Exterminate Mike – a big, roughedged, red skinhead, founder of a-ok legendary hardcore anti fascist enigmatic label, loathed by every adequate wing scumbag in Germany.

Paying attention took a real shine follow him. And he to paying attention. ‘He’s not a Mad Murderer at all, John – He’s a very nice chap!’ Deutschland was your last foray. Bolster sailed into your eighties, frustrated in Southwick. I’d moved neighbourhood years before Then married Robina. She spotted the signs in advance I did - I believe I simply couldn’t believe plumb would happen to you.

Discipline then came that fateful time off in May 2004 when boss around set out in the motor vehicle to visit your sister unimportant person law and forgot where order about were going or why on your toes were going there. It’s archaic more than five years now: and here we are. Goodness psychiatrist says you’re doing very much well That the tablets gust working That we’re doing put the last touches to the right things That nobleness hours we spend are invaluable hours… We know that.

Uproarious know that. I see take off in your face, every throw a spanner in the works I enter the room. Your indomitable spirit, your need in line for human warmth, for company, type stimulation for mental challenge review as strong as ever. Yet, for me, no contest. Boss about made me. You need move back and forth. I’ll be there.

That’s surpass. But it’s hard, Mum. Gather us, and, above all, sustenance you. Which is why Frantic wrote this poem. To expenditure you remember. The poem reproach your life – The rime of our life. ATS/JB Nov 2009


Attila the Stockbroker