draft… of sorts

I’m not sure if i will be using this page as my travelogue as id like to have something physical. however.

the running order for articles is thus

bury lodge gardens
Camden town
hammersmith bridge
the shard
natural history museum
im not sure about the last 3…

this is Camden
By Constantine/Nobodytrue

You look
You can see
The truth about
Old Camden Town
It’s soul has been torn down
The money men have arrived
In the 80’s here you could find
Marvels and trinkets of every kind
Now each stall sells the same shit as the next
I n d i v i d u a l i t y  has been sold
Goth shops now designer labels.
Where now the good old vinyl
The boot leg recordings
Now cheap takeaways
Or crap t-shirts
And always
Good old

and this is a draft for Hammersmith bridge

Hammersmith Bridge
By Constantine/Nobodytrue

Hard is stone in small of back
Cold, the bottle at his side
Resolved was he, unto his fate
to drift upon whatever tide

Discomforted, sudden, he looks up
to structure wrote in Victorian years
through brambles, where he thought him safe
now startled by the sound of jeers

Soon he’s ready, far to flee
from the drunken face of Friday night
from anger born of ignorance
of what had put him in this plight.

From field and bush to city roof
from squat to shelter in a door
He ran away from everyone
Trust proven, he could ill afford

In later years his life he wrecked
he never chanced to seek friendship
For no matter the softness of the bed
He remains forever under Hammersmith Bridge.

its clunkier than I would like and needs refining. also it’s not so much about Hammersmith bridge, but about homelessness which is an ever-present reality of London. I was homeless for 5 years and I get very angry with beggars. I never begged in all that time.

For kings cross i was thinking of a Villanelle. Maybe the focus should be St-Pancras ??? or that kings cross is now free of prostitutes and burger bars selling drugs.???

no clue on the rest. alas my laptop died and so I’m at least two full weeks behind. So I’m hoping my kind tutor will allow some flexibility.

for Kings Cross/St Pancras im thinking this

The homeless that you sheltered are long gone

The trains bring their herds of human cattle

Now Snow white is pimped out from the Disney store.

The midland grand hotel has been reborn

A Victorian dream that few now can afford

The homeless that you sheltered are long gone

And burger bars there used to be no lack

Selling rancid meat, chips, cocaine and crack

Now Snow white is pimped out from the Disney store.

Armed police march around here every day

For some reason it makes me feel less safe

The homeless that you sheltered are long gone.

The prostitutes would offer a good time

with slight of hand would rob their punter blind

Now Snow white is pimped out from the Disney store.

I know things seem better than in it was yesterday

But nothings been solved, It’s just been moved away

The homeless that you sheltered are long gone

Snow white is pimped out from the Disney store.

and this for the London eye



The slow grey waters,             wandering wistfully.
Past many shores,                    shimmering silently.
Ever renewing,                          endless, enchanting.
Carving the landscape.           Cleaving the country.
Heading past harbours,          history making.

From the Cotswolds,               cold it flows frothing
Under forty five locks,            before the far sea
passing the pang,                     poets it inspires
pressing past Henley,             where punters serenade
Windsor castle watches,        as it whips past Eton

Runnymede rushes past,       history rejoices
Speeding past stains,             A stain on the landscape.
the Wey and the Bourne,       by Weybridge weld to it.
now tides take their toll,       bathers beware.
Hampton court passes,         Old home of Henry,

Kingston at long last,             looping into the city
The modern metropolis         50 Miles across
Town built on trade.               The river its blood
for two thousand years,         the Thames bought life.
Now poisoned polluted,        But loved by the people.

A National symbol.                 England’s aged artery.
Keeping London alive,           and hope along with it.
And you here and now…       Yes you gentle reader.
Your majestic mind,               like to that mighty river.
fears, thoughts, fancies,       flotsam in the water

building up on the shores,   making banks of belief
becoming villages vital         of virgin personality
corrupting, conjoining          into mighty cities
but for all of its warmth,       wealth and wonder
.                            you are not the city…
.                              you are the river…

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