``Connas has died ``
was the worst news I have ever heard.
Ridiculous ! Nonsense! How absurd!
the mind spun, tears sprung. head hurt.
No no
This! can not Be?


memories well , from deep inside.
things i thought where quite forgotten.
punk rock disco`s and johny rotten.
tynemouth shields and whitleybay
are the places we would play
adventures from here to there.
take a photo stand and stare.


oh so young without a care.
red and black baggy mohair,
his dad was denis.
there was zero menace,


a stiff records t shirt. I did adore.
so cool
well outrages!
`if it isnt stiff it`s not worth a``
lets just say donald duck`.


This though
was oh so verry long ago.


while darkness savaged.
well more, than quite a few.
it was off to jesmond that we flew
a house so fine a house so grand.
a seven foot bath
open to the winter sky.
snow floats gently by


Spring forth to summer
lazing on a sunny afternoon.
spying commuters as they metro by.
Stressed and strained by thatchers dream
we where young we had the cream


jumble sales and antique fairs.
Pretty things and heady books
groovy tunes with time to cook.
brown rice stew and miso soup.


To sweeny todds we would trot
a flat top please. or chop the lot
and howard rickard.
still goes there


Glastonbury and clapham common,
to free Mandela from his chains.
We where there and we cared.


vinyls tapes cd`s came late
all off them from connas plate .
id give the man a pack pack of four
within a week hed knock at my door
recorded mixes groovely done.
fantastic
cheers mate .


a final party, oh so wild,
music colour every where.
Pens and paints to decorate
the hallway and the stair
a last night in a favourite place
then we left,
each with one grand.


I know I said take what you like
but every single fireplace?
the new owner. did declare.
Well!
You should be careful what you say


back down the road
now the coast was clear.
antique shops and wholefood store,
market stalls at tynemouth station
as hip hop spread across the nation


non wasted moment
I spent with him


on lots of things we could not agree
Though never with a bilious rage
for He was he and I was me.


in later years upon his farm
i`d see him less as life moved on
but now and then I would call bye.
a cup of tea a can of beer.
Then when i`d leave
i`d be full of cheer.


connas
a richly gold embroidered thread;
throughout the tapestry
of me.


in jesus christ i dont believe
an afterlife i cant conceive.
yet still i hope.
In fact I pray
I am wrong.
for a soul as his should carry on.


he surely is the blessed boy
That is why
we all are here


now tis time to dance to sing.
let the band of holy joy begin


phil knowles