Runes

This is the video of my poem "The Boulevarde of Broken Dreams" kindly created for me by Ingrid Hutterer.

( The Boulevarde of Broken Dreams )

Here is the video for my poem "Ancient Twilight" kindly created by Ingrid Hutterer.

( Ancient Twilight )

This is my poem "The Shout" which inspired Slim Dusty to create his iconic song "Duncan".

( The Shout )

Here is the video for my poem "Frangipani - A Farewell to Margeurite", beautifully created by Ingrid Hutterer.

( Frangipani - A Farewell to Margeurite )

See my beautiful video for the poem "Circuits to Illium", created for me by Ingrid Hutterer!

( Circuits to Illium )

I went down to the local pub on Friday for a snort
Basher Bill was sittin' there and he was drinkin' port
I didn't want to drink with him 'cause he's the local lout
But he called "Come over matey, it's my turn to shout".

So I joined him for a round or two before I headed home
Then who should walk into the bar but good ol' Curly Jones
Curly joined the party, so I couldn't just walk out
'specially when he said to me "It's my turn to shout".

An hour passed by rapidly, and I found myself still there
Then Ringer Smith walked through the door and he pulled up a chair.
He said "Ow are ya cobbers? If ya want a drinkin' bout
Then I'm just the fella for ya, and it's me turn to shout".

Well we had a round of whisky and then we had some more
And then I had to hit the kick and we downed another four.
Then Baldy Brown, who just hit town, said "I think I'll have a stout
And fill these jokers' glasses up, 'cause it's my turn to shout.

Suddenly I realised I should be home for tea.
The wife would do her cruet, she would murder me.
I said "I must be goin'" but Mine Host said, "Hang About
The next ones on the house boys. It's my turn to shout".

When finally I left the pub the clock said half-past ten.
I snuck into the kitchen - the sorriest of men
The wife she tore a strip off me, of this there is no doubt
Said "Home at last ya drunken' bum . . .
NOW IT'S MY TURN TO SHOUT".

...................................................
 

Garden In The Rain, a video based on a poem written by me, audio and editing by Ingrid Hutterer.

Here's a clip from my Youtube account of Clannad, the theme from "Harry's Game"

( Haunted Video )

Please visit my Youtube account, Bigeeezy

"The hobo has two watches you can't buy in Tiffanys.
On one wrist the sun, onthe other wrist the moon, both
bands are made of sky".
                   Jack Kerouac, 'The Vanishing American Hobo'.

A Knapsack Full Of Blues.

Tobacco dust and cornbread crust,
Some Mountain Dew.
Frying pan, fresh road-kill, Spam
For evening stew.
Is he king of the road or a new Tom Joad?
In the red-eyed dawn as he lifts his load
With the breeze at his back
And a knapsack full of blues.

He's hit the towns where the air is brown
Over chimney stacks.
Built fires of Pine, drunk short-dog wine,
Read Kerouac.
Guess that son-of-a-gun was born to run
Thru fields of gold in the morning sun
With the breeze at his back
And a knapsack full of blues.

He won't shirk his fair share of work
Shows a certain style.
And he knows the score, he avoids the law
Keeps a low profile.
But the Siren song whispers 'Don't stay long
The highway waits, it's where you belong
With the breeze at your back
And a knapsack full of blues'.

He's seen the moon - a bright balloon
Above desert sand.
Heard silence fall like a widow's pall
On a lonely land.
Ragged and dusty, he's a bard in mufti
He's a troubadour like Woody Guthrie
With the breeze at his back
And a knapsack full of blues.

He left a wife in another life
Even had a kid.
They can't say why he walked away
Just know he did.
At close of day he may feel regret
But he chose the way, now his course is set
With the breeze at his back
And a knapsack full of blues.

You roll the dice and you pay the price
Or learn to duck.
He enjoys the chance to tilt his lance
At Lady Luck.
He could rail at fate but he carries the weight
The road is a drug and the cravings' great
for the breeze at your back
And a knapsack full of blues.

Late at night you can feel the bite
Of his slide guitar.
Like a sling-blade knife shaving shards of life
From his repetoire.
And each song throbs like a living thing
There's a time to sob - there's a time to sing
'Cause you can't predict what each day may bring
With the breeze at your back
And a knapsack full of blues.
(c) Laurie Neill.







 

The Boulevarde of Broken Dreams


Emerging from the shadows
Courting night's embrace
The legion of the lonely-ones
Parade a haunted face.
In the frenzy of their chatter
Something jittery and shrill
They pretend love doesn't matter
Yet they know it always will.
You can sense the apprehension
- Strung-out to extremes
As they all seem relegated
By the sadness of their schemes
(And so they ever fret)
Romeos and Juliettes
Each apart - they silhouette
The boulevarde of broken dreams. 

Their laughter is as brittle
As the hope within each breast
And so they keep on searching
The restless cannot rest.
That flush upon a cheek-bone
The tension of a smile
There must be someone, somewhere
Who can love them for a while.
Unhappy with this stumbling
Variation on a theme
Their lives are turning slowly
On the fulcrum of a scream.
(And so they ever fret}
Pierrots and Pierrettes
Play their part - and silhouette
The boulevarde of broken dreams.

In the ashes of the evening
When the passion has cooled down
Lipstick smeared faces
Part gargoyle, partly clown
The boulevarde is blowing
Some elemental blues.
What they've never known
Is something they can't lose.
Yet they live the desperation
Life is fraying at the seams
And they wonder if they'll ever
Leave the land of go-betweens.
(And so they ever fret)
Gigolos and Gigolettes
Still apart - they silhouette
The boulevarde of broken dreams.
(c) Laurie Neill.

Circuits to Illium 

Odysseus, again plans a campaign
And facing him a world of wine dark seas
While some other Hector, constant in desire
Strides Sedd-El-Bahr, aligning paths of fire.

The battle ground has moved across the straits
A blink for Gods - eternity for men
And still we go, marching down the days
Dictated by destiny's strange ways.

Whose was the face that launched these ships?
What trophy, dancing like mirage
Demanded war?  Nothing ever changes
But means of death from too familiar strangers.

Now Agammemnon leads the ANZAC Corps
With bold Achilles, fresh from Castlemaine
Fighting as they've never fought before
New players don the robes of 'Men at War'.

(c) Laurie Neill.

Visit my Youtube site and feel free to browse through my playlists for all types of classic songs and videos at my main page Big Eeezy.