Tags
1970s, 1974, 2008, breathing, brown, Burt Bacharach, clothes, clouds, Dionne Warwick, evening, field, floorboards, friends, green, grey, horizon, houses, journey, kitchen, laughing, Mum, Plumstead common, rain, relationship, sky, smile, snow, streetlight, streets, Thames, time, tv, walking, white, windows, Woolwich, work, yellow
To my Mum who breathed deep the day she got a good set of saucepans in her pantry in 1974. To my Mum who walked the long tunnel at Woolwich to and from work every day for twenty five years. To my Mum who smiled on Plumstead Common when the white clouds were on the horizon and the grey cloud seamless in all the windows. To my Mum who ate chops and beans every evening to hold off weight but who always wore smart coats. To my Mum who was never quite sure if it was OK to laugh and relax in the seventies as the possibility suggested,
– yes, it was okay,
and every time she did,
there were plastic raincoats in the evening high street,
there was Dionne Warwick and Burt Bacharach,
there were floorboards and wooden stepladders and wallpaper,
there were empty milk bottles on the doorstep,
there was a thin of snow on the housing estate under the green grey sky,
there were bowls of crisps and crackers and twiglets for the Cup Final,
there were high sash windows overlooking the Thames,
there were phone wires in front of the skies where she would never go
there were car journeys on wet roads by deep green fields,
there were yellow streetlights of new relationships and new-found friends,
there were bulbous patterns of brown and green to match the seasons.
My Mum cried when it all went wrong but went to work anyway.
To my Mum, who died 20th March 1999, far too early to realise the extent of her own patience and the width of her generosity; who typed up invoices for cargo ships in and out of London and taught me to leave three spaces after a full stop, which I honour to this day.
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
1974 wormhole: 1974
breathing & green & horizon & streetlight & white & work & yellow wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
brown wormhole: the dash is magnificent / the shadow grotesque
[Burt] Bacharach & Dionne Warwick wormhole: 1962
clouds wormhole: purpose
evening wormhole: after the storm
field wormhole: the edge has come …
grey wormhole: hinged
houses & white wormhole: bottom of Herbert Road to the / foot of Eglinton Hill dream
kitchen & sky & snow & streets & walking wormhole: dream 260713
Mum wormhole: just words wiped across a line
rain wormhole: the four whores of the apocalypse
Thames wormhole: H e a v e
time wormhole: between
tv wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
Woolwich wormhole: Woolwich Central – making life better II
mlewisredford 
Beautiful ❤
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yes, she was; thank you
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Thank you Mark. I love this song to your Mum’s memory.
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shares and regards
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Oooooh that last line. Really lovely
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ah, thank you, C
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She must have treasured her son.
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A beautiful, heartfelt tribute …
My mom taught me to use two spaces after a full stop. But, I’m rather intrigued by how the three spaces work. Your mom might just have made a convert out of me. 🙂
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what a beautiful memorial gift- she’d’ve really liked that
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Reblogged this on Johnbalaya and commented:
Truly, a wonderful poem … worth the read.
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John; you do my Mum honour and we are very grateful
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A warning to you both. More than one is a sure sign that you’re an old fogey!
(From one old fogey to two others…)
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… what’s that, dear; you’ll have to SPEAK UP
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‘My Mum cried when it all went wrong but went to work anyway.’
There’s a big part of that ‘…being
grown up by [one’s] self.’ right there.
‘Specially when there’s little ones needing things…
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sounds to me like you’re one of those-there parent-thingamebobs
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And now, hmmm, let’s see….that ‘1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012’ looks familiar. Think I’ve been there before. Could give me a sense of closure for the evening.
But then there’s ‘Plumstead – Woolwich 121114’ or ‘Woolwich Central – making life better II’ or ‘bottom of Herbert Road to the / foot of Eglinton Hill dream.’
Those all sound good as I find I’m becoming rather fond of that whole area.
But then there’s that brown wormhole which does sound somewhat questionable perhaps but then ‘the dash is magnificent / the shadow grotesque’ sounds Super Intriguing….
Perhaps I will just leave this page open in my browser and come back to it later….
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aha, you are beginning to come across the interlocking mandalas – the Venn intersections that pattern the endless scatter like the 3-level chess boards in Star Trek;
nevertheless, I will award you the Sid James award for double entendres but hope the rash doesn’t spread too far before you get to the ‘breeze-wormhole’ or the ‘open-wormhole’ or the ‘sitting-wormhole’
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Just so long as I don’t open any breezes whilst sitting…..
Whoooeee……
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