My Rock n Roll Party - In Memory of Mr Tom Bell - Poet

"Roll on tonight my mates are coming round
  For a few cold beers and some rocking sounds
  Time is drawing near, as I hear a knock at the door
  Blimey! at this time of the night, a vacuum salesmen stands before"

 "Hey pal make it quick, I have a party to host
  Tell me your pitch, now disappear your a ghost
  The best place for them is in the lunar craters
  Sucking on Listerine soaked tissues, singing,"see you later alligator"

 "Another knock on the door, and I'm pleasantly surprised
  All my intended buddies on my doorstep, the parties arrived
  For a night of drifting, ending with earache and pain
  Entering wormholes of insomnia, no pain no gain"

 "Our party is going to be like a cool Rock 'n' Roll gig
  Beers flowing a plenty, this ain't no highland jig
  We start with Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention
  Best friends and myself, our schooldays convention"

 "This is no wine and dine as Dire Straits play
  The "Sultans of Swing" sounds excellent any day
  Next we play Deep Purple, listening to Jon Lord's Hammond sounds
  Music is our medicine in six speaker surround"

 "In between sounds to the kitchen we head
  Tid-bits and more beers to keep our gig well fed
  We sample some Grunge Metal listening to Nuclear Waste
  But once again Classic Rocks rules, as Grunge is not our taste"

 "For the next couple of ours it's like The Monsters of Rock
  AC/DC and UFO, the Rock never stops
  We air guitar to "Whole Lotta Rosie"
  Wearing spandex boxer shorts, one of us drumming like Cozy"

 "We all awake in the morning, some with sore heads
  But it was never a night that we were ever going to dread
  It was a bunch of guys who met whilst at school
  Who released their friendly energy, like fools but really cool"

 "Tom, I never knew you, but I thank Catie for this
  Writing this poem, just fills me with bliss
  I know you will be busy, but if you happen to look down
  Give our convention a shout, join our Rock n Roll clowns"

My tribute to Mr Tom Bell, so many people spoke about him.
Reading what they said, I only wish I knew him.

Images of that Monday Night

Please take a moment and open your thoughts
As you enter my mind to the contests sought

To run as brothers one faster than the other
Running to catch up to shadow his brother

One turns the corner the other behind
Just as he turns in your eyes you now find

Through me you see a main road just ahead
You see your brother, in seconds he's dead

Listen to the impact as he is hit by a van
Slow motion now shows, as different worlds ran

Tyres are screeching, or is it my brother
For fifty yards he's been dragged, a young life in smother

To reach the opening that your past images have seen
A nine year old boy against a modern machine

To look through my eyes on that Monday night
At seven years old I turned and took fright

How I got back to my father I'll never know
In monsoon of tears under street light glow

To be so young to say your brother is dead
For the past forty two years, my dreams I still dread


Rambling Blue Rose

I am a rose and beauty is in me
Shapely and colourful in nature's scene
My colour of blue mirrors the sky
Whilst birds on the wing dip their wings flying by

I awake in the morn dew adorned
Refreshing my petals, stem and thorns
Awaiting the sun to be absorbed by me
In our bed of roses my buds and thee

This afternoons breeze catches as we gleefully sway
Insects skillfully hover and join in the rays
Humming and buzzing talking to each other
Whilst ladybirds tickle under my petals of cover

The evening draws as the sun downs
In my bed of roses our petals become gowns
We head into the night all quiet and serene
For tomorrow's a new day even roses can dream