Cor blimey it's London! ~ a wet winter's day,
The stream in the gutter swills fancies away.
'eavens 'ave opened, the wind 'n' the rain,
All of your credence is washed down the drain.
A walk by the river that rolls along still;
You turn up your collar to turn out the chill.
Old Father Thames is right showin' 'is age
By slushy pavin' along the Bird Cage.
The electric of neon, flashin' aglow,
It lights up the shadows, it lights up Soho.
A sidestep down Dean Street where philosophers roam
And then passin' the lodgin' ~ once Karl Marx's 'ome
Street vendors are weathered, soaked to the skin,
'ot chestnut sellers are sizzlin' within;
And corners and alleys where umbrae of bright
Drape faces of 'arlots, the girls of the night.
Along past the Palace, the digs of our Queen,
She's doin' quite nice, if you knows what I mean?
No time to visit 'er, no time to call,
Gawd bless 'er Majesty; Gawd bless us all.
So, it's back 'ome at nightfall, the place where I sleep;
Where my bed is sufficient to make Jesus weep.
By the sacrosanct soup kitchen down by the docks...
Which is just up the road from me owd cardboard box.
-
Author:
ASJ (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 8th, 2020 04:19
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments6
Nice one me old china! Brought back memories like it was only down the frog.
Then i thinks to myself, leave it out, eez avvin a girraffe. bet ee ent bin daan there 'tall. After all, the chap's a first class poet and must have a perfectly imaginative muse.
Not been down for a while now da. Last visit I was at the Royal Mews with the Queen's horses ~ a world away from the East End and a cardboard box.
Kind regards, Alan
Hi Alan,
An excellent write.
You have captured the essence and heart of London most perfectly.
Keep writing ✍ and safe during these challenging times.
FineB
Thanks for your visit FB. I am pleased that you enjoyed a visit to London.
Kind regards, Alan
Good write Alan.
Sub pallio sordido sepientia.
'Wisdom is often found under a shabby cloak'.
Ex animo, Alan
"Spose I'm obligated to add my three hapeth: Love the place (as it was in the '40's and again in the ' 60's and'70's. My roots. Changed a lot since - over development, Canary Wharf, big finance etc. What doesn't seem to have changed, when It's there is the drizzle and the cold. Reason enough to beat a retreat to good old Sydney Town...
Anyway , Mind 'ow yer 'go ( if it's still said like that and Estuarine hasn't clobbered that as well...
Dave
Good to hear from you Dave. We live on the West Yorkshire Moors of England and we experience the same sort of weather which you describe. I have stuck with it but my brother, after a couple of years in London (Dollis Hill), escaped to Sydney also, where he still lives. Good of you to come all this way and visit my poem...
Kind regards, Alan
Ah but you have the West Yorkshire Moors around you and under your feet, Alan. All that history and environment. Please don't knock it. The only change from brick, asphalt and the small local park I experienced as a kid was a yearly fortnight's holiday to Sandown Isle of Wight.
At my previous post I forgot the ' good/excellent write' accolade current here. Sorry about that - well deserved.
Take it easy, Dave
Super write Alan, I was brought up in Rochester, Kent and in part of the Medway Towns there is an area called Luton where back in the day the Eastenders used to come down and stay there while picking hops, some of them ended up living there so there and a cockney accent was established. I have been living in the West Midlands for 21 years now and people can sometimes hear a cockney twang when I speak.
Andy
Yes Andy, hop picking was considered a holiday by East Londoners at one time wasn't it? I can see how some of them decided to make Kent their home. That will all be done mechanically now I expect.
Stay safe and well there in the W, Midlands Andy.
Ex animo, Alan
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