Unexpected and unwanted hardships placed me like a lamb at the slaughterhouse door .
EMOTIONS OF A CITY
As I walked down Old Street I noticed some of the empty buildings that had seen better days . I’m sure if these old foundations could speak they would have spewed up from their tired old shells and cried out to the modern day architects for a reconstruction or a final demolition .
A strange fascination crept over me as once again I happened to find myself in a place where I had never been before and with absolutely no idea of how I had got there or even why I was going this way or that . After walking through the rain for an hour or more I knew I was lost so I rang Linda again . In the end I hailed a taxi-cab . I was getting into the taxi a young lady threw herself in with me and said ,
“ I hope you don’t mind sharing . I’ve been waiting for a bus for ages and a taxi fare halved is a burden shared ”
“ Where are you going ? ” The driver asked .
“ Regent Street ” The girl replied .
“ What about you ”
I saw a number 48 bus on its way to Piccadilly and asked the driver where in London I was .
“ Near Covent Garden squire “
"Sorry?"
“ Near Covent Garden squire “
He replied .
How on Earth did I ever get from Old Street to here ""
“ Excuse me sir , where do you want to go ?”
“Dalston ” I said .
“ I hope you don’t mind me jumping in to your taxi .”
The girl seemed friendly . I looked at her and said ,
“Isn’t it different looking at London through the window of a taxi . See those two people holding hands there . They must be in love , and look at those people hurrying to the underground ”.
She smiled just as some of the neon lights came on around the city . The evening was cool and there was electric in the air .
There was I sitting next to a beautiful young girl in the back of a London Cab , just as mystery beckoned the taxi pulled up and the driver reached out his hand for the fare .
After she handed over a few nuggets the young girl thanked me and ran off down Regent Street . The taxi pulled away from the kerb and made its way through the heavy traffic .
As we passed Her Majesty’s Theatre I said ,
“ Parting is such sweet sorrow ”
“ Take my advice and put her behind you . I’ve shared my cab
with all kinds of girls . Some of them were nice and some
rough . Usually the nice ones give me the most trouble .
Where in Dalston are you going then ?”
“Queensway flats” I replied .
“ Sure I know them ”
A few moments silence passed and then he said .
“ I love London . Where abouts in Belfast do you come from ”
I had to laugh and said ,
“ Would you believe me if I told you I came from Australia .”
“ Yea . I lived in Sydney for a while ” The driver said .
We shared a brief story or two about different places we knew in Sydney , like Luna Park , and some of the beaches .
As much as I wanted to carry on talking the driver pulled up outside the tower block where Linda lived . The driver reached out his hand and I paid him the fare then I grabbed my belongings and said goodbye .
Making my way inside the flats I took the stairs because the lifts rarely ever worked . I stood outside her front door and prepared myself for what was ahead . I rapped with a confident knock and when Linda opened the door , she put her arms around me and gave me a kiss . I liked the welcome and it
created an immediate reaction . I felt as if I had touched a personal place with her , which meant something to me .
I walked into the flat and sat down . She sat next to me .
Linda seemed reluctant to talk so I started .
“ Its good to see you again ” I said .
She almost broke down in tears .
“I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you the last tine you where here . It was because of Steve . He is very jealous and I had to push you away . ”
Slowly but surely I began to really believe her .
As the night went on , we drew closer to each other and even polished off a bottle of wine in the process .
Something happened that night between Linda and myself . We shed our fears and cast off responsibilities for a while . I could see she was trapped in London and had nowhere else to turn . She had a high pressure job in marketing and her latest nightmare was debt . It seemed Steve had been burning up a lot of Linda’s money . Mainly on drugs and gambling . He prevented her from doing things she wanted to . The only reason he gave his KO for me to board there was for the extra money . I looked at her and felt a pity .
Steve owed over three weeks rent to the council for the flat and was in the red to his drug supplier . His job was on the shaky side and his car was in need of repair . Linda had asked if I could pay three weeks in advance and I said I would , but that I needed to get to my bank to get some money out . I realised there and then that it was not me Linda was after , but my money and I almost felt something kick me in the guts . The walls began to close in on me , there where too many memories for me in this flat already . Too many moments ,
and too much hurt . I decided that I would stay the night but
the first thing I would do in the morning was to move out
and chance my arm sleeping rough until I could find a job that would pay my fare across the water to hometown of Belfast .
I had to let Linda sort out her own life and try to forget about someone that I did care for very much . I had to leave behind the girl I had met in Coffs Harbour and the admiration I once had . In my heart there was nothing left for Linda but pity .
Morning tapped me on the head as if I was a baby in the arms of its mother . I got up and had a shower . Linda had made breakfast for both of us and then she put on her coat and walked out the door .
“ I’ll see you later then .” Linda said .
“ Have a good day ” I replied .
From her balcony thirteen floors up I watched Linda catch the bus for work . For a while I felt removed from everything . I watched the traffic below race along the road , avoiding the odd pedestrian that suddenly scurried across the roadway . As time went on the sidewalk’s where alive with people . The presence of space invaded my mind and I started to think about so many things we often take for granted in life . I thought about the sun that rises in the morning . I felt my thoughts chase some of the everyday things around us . Those busy hums in the house , of water running from a tap . The stillness of a wall with a picture , a book on a table , good company . The sound of rain hitting a roof as you drift to sleep can be music to the ears . The security of lying on a comfortable bed , thinking of the day that has been , or the things we have seen ,
is decadence .
Then I thought how lucky are those who take all of this for granted and do not have to suffer the songwriters syndrome . Being a songwriter can separate you from the world and as you become more in tune with the subconscious you notice a world where many things are taken for granted . So many times I thought about having a wife and a home with our children all gathered around at the dinner table . I wished for things at times like electric lights , baths , soft sofas , good food , and shelter from the cold streets that so many times where home for me . London so far had been merciless and hard . I stood there on the balcony and thought for a while . I thought about things the cold world outside that awaited my presence .
A sudden adrenalins surge threw my thoughts on an elevator and deep down I felt life inside me stir into a new awakening . I grabbed my bag , my guitar and in an instant I walked out the door of the flat leaving nothing but a shadow behind me .
As I walked into the lift Linda’s next door neighbour got in also .
She had a kind face that was pleasant to look at .
As I smiled at her she spoke .
“ Are you a friend of hers ” ?
“ Not really ” I replied .
“ Where are you going ?” She asked .
“ I don’t know ” I replied .
“ Jesus can save you ” She said .
“ I know , but I’m already saved ” I said .
She burst out in with laughter and almost sang her response ,
“Praise the lord child , my names Maria , what are you doing later on this evening ?”
“Nothing Maria . My names Paul ”
We got out of the life on the ground floor, and she said .
“Do you want to come along for some praise and worship with me and my husband later on Paul ?”
“ Sure”
“ Be here at five thirty and we will take you with us ”
“OK Maria, see you later on then ”
“Bye , have a good day ”
Oh yes , at last I met someone who was the genuine article .I could see some light in the tunnel .
For most of the day I wandered around checking out the sights with thoughts of finding a corner somewhere to busk .
I was drowning in a sea of angry faces and quickly gave up the idea of busking in London . Being a stranger in London is very hard for some to accept . I stood out like a sore thumb on the pavement . I was called a lot of different names .
The blacks called me Honky , and the whites called me Paddy .
There was no place to escape to . I walked along a lonely path and found the front door of a pub not far from the Dalston police station .
You know how , when sometimes things go wrong , which triggers a series of events that seem to snowball , well that’s just what started to happen to me . Murphys law was running out of control and nothing stood in its way .
I threw down a pint and went to answer natures call .
I innocently stumbled in to the ladies instead of the gents .
Within seconds I was thrown up against the wall by this gorilla ,
who also ran the bar . I tried to explain to him that I didn’t know that this was the ladies but he was just too mad and too
bad to convince . A short scuffle developed with me coming off the worst . There was a difference of opinions . When I told the gorilla that I’d never walk through the door of his pub again .
He never blinked an eye . When I asked him if he treated all his customers like this , he called me a pervert . His eyes began to burn , and his forehead began to sweat .
It was time to go , so I pushed him away from me and although shaken up a bit I did manage to walk unassisted from the pub . I’m sure there where skid marks left behind me .
My nerves were jumping and my heart was thumping .
I walked as if on air along the Kingsland Road trying to avoid
hard faces that passed by . Sure enough this part of the city was giving me a real welcome .
I got on the first bus that came along Kingsland Road and spent an hour getting over what had just happened . I got off at Liverpool Street station and just wandered into a train .
I got off the train and had no idea where I was . For some reason I guessed that I was somewhere near West Ham .
I walked along strange sidewalk’s and made my way to a place I had never seem before in my life .
Feeling very lost I thought things couldn’t get much worse so I stood in the doorway of a pawnbrokers shop and watched people pass by . I saw a black taxi and put my hand up . I left my troubles in the doorway and jumped into the taxi .
I was still only in second gear as part of the morning was still left , so I asked the taxi-driver to drop me near Trafalgar Square .
He left me at the at Charing Cross Road , where people sat around tables at a cafe , in the morning sun drinking tea and coffee . I took up a position in Trafalgar Square and began busking some of my songs . I played for about an hour and left empty handed . I thought to myself at least the pigeons seemed to enjoy the music . I promised myself to return again everyday for a week until I received some kind of reward for my trouble .
I was on the air now as the lunchtime crowds pushed along sidewalk’s . Not far from the South Bank Centre , a tiny piece of green grass became the resting place for a great number of people who had found a place to capture refreshment and a
brief escape from their busy day . I sat nearby and played some easy blues in the midday sun . Nobody told me to move on or shut up so I stayed and continued to play some of my songs . I pulled out my blues harp and placed in my mouth .
I was grateful for the small change in my pocket because it was all I had left . I made my way to St Pauls and withdrew twenty pounds from the Electronic Cash Machine at the National Westminster Bank . I went into a cafe called The Rising Sun and ordered some bacon and eggs for late lunch . By the time I finished eating it was time to make tracks for Dalston and keep my appointment with Maria .
I needed some extra money so I went back to the bank to make another withdrawal but I was left feeling angry after the electronic cash machine swallowed my card . The bank was closed and I was left at a loss . Being Friday didn’t help as I was faced with a weekend with no money . I was almost going to ring Linda at her flat but thought I better not . With only ten pounds ready cash on me I decided to walk back to Dalston . I really had no idea where I was so I began to walk along Fleet Street . It was rush hour and I got caught up in a head on battle of the pavements . I was amazed how many people actually tried to knock you off your feet . It was a big effort to remain upright .
A car pulled up beside me and to my surprise it was Maria in the passenger seat .
“ Hey Paul , get in .”
I got into the back seat and within minutes we where far away from the stampede . Maria introduced me to her husband driving the car and I was invited back to their flat for some dinner .
The kindness offered to me by Maria and her family was in a nutshell , Christianity in action .After dinner we all left the flat and went to church .We arrived in good time to the Bible Way Church there at Three Threes lane . The church was part of the Good Shepherd Mission in Bethnal Green .
The silent echo’s inside the church building began to disappear as the community began to fill the seats in the church .
A small music ministry took up one corner and they needed no books or amplification . Their only instruments where tambourines and a very old keyboard , but what they did have was soul .
The sound was alive and full . I had never before heard such worship and as the entire congregation joined in , well what praise was offered up . Over the years I had been involved with Charismatic renewal in the Catholic Church as well as the conservative hymnal praise . I had been part of youth groups in Sydney with the Catholic Church where praise and worship where free forms of expression with God . I had been with church choirs that could sing but man , these West Indian brothers and sisters from Bethnal Green well they could really swing . For the introduction to the service we lifted our hands high above our heads , our voices where many but the praise was one .We shook the rafters and rattled the floorboards . We danced and we sang . Oh what a joy it was . The good minister Reverend Harry Mc Farland spoke when the time was right and we all listened to the word . It was electric and everyone was charged with Gods message . As I looked around at the sea of faces I noticed for the first time that I was one of two who had white skin . It also dawned on me that I was probably the only Catholic in the building .
It was encouraging to find no barrier was present and a genuine smile welcomed me into the community .Reverend Harry spoke of the rich person who gave a small portion of his wealth to the church in contrast to a very poor person who gave a penny but that penny was all the wealth that person possessed . At this moment a collection plate was passed around . I put a ten pound note on the plate and that was everything I had . Somehow I knew I would find an answer to prayer .
The service ended and Reverend Harry came over to me . He shook my hand and I went on to tell him a few things about myself . When he heard I had no place to stay and no money he asked some of the people in the church community for help . The church was almost empty and only a handful of people where left . I was approached by Reverend Harry who introduced me to Doris Telford . With a heart as big as Bethnal Green Doris offered me her family home until I was ready to leave . That evening I sat with her and her two teenage children in the comfort of their family home which was a small council flat near Hackney . Doris was middle aged and stood five feet tall .
Her face glowed with kindness and her eyes showed a great depth of character . The first week with the Telfords was like heaven on Earth ., There was always a pot on the stove with red kidney beans , rice and broth . I never met Mr Telford , and nobody ever spoke of him , so I never bothered asking too many questions .
One morning Doris asked me if I could do a few little jobs for her and her daughter Patricia who I was brought around to meet the same day . Doris had some groceries to buy and so she left me with Patricia who went in and lay down in bed . She called me and asked me to sit down beside her . I did as she asked and listened to her as she rambled on about the most far fetched things . I was lost in a one way conversation that meant nothing to me at all . Eventually she stopped talking and pointed to the ceiling and walls .
“ Could you paint this red , and yellow . I want to show you something “ She said .
She reached under the bed and pulled a large tubular container that encased a huge wallpaper mural of a sunset on some exotic island .
“ I want this poster on that wall ” She said .
“ No problem . So have you any wallpaper paste ?” I asked .
“What ” She seemed a little unsure about what I said .
I explained to her that in order to get her mural on the wall that it would have to be pasted .
“ How much does paste cost ?” She asked .
“ Well , its not just paste . You will also need turps to wash out the paint brushes . ”
She asked me to pass over her handbag from the dresser . From her purse she handed me twenty pounds and said ,
“ Is that enough to cover the cost of your materials ?” I nodded that it would be .
"I'll leave now " I said .
“ Would you mind leaving the room , I need to get dressed .
She slowly pushed the blankets from her and sat up .
Before I even got to the landing by the staircase she came out from the bedroom and asked me to take a look at her bathroom wall .
“I want this tiled , is it a hard job to do ?”
“ Not too hard . Have you got all the materials ?”
” I asked almost knowing that she hadn’t .
From underneath a wooden box that she used as a step to get into the bath Patricia produced a small box of white tiles .
“Here you are “ She replied .
“Where is the grout and cement ?” I asked .
Her face went bright red .
“You mean I am going to need other products to put these tiles up on the wall ?”
“Of course you do ” I replied .
“ Well in that case I guess you will have to use up all that twenty pounds I gave you ” She sounded anxious and a little angry .
I looked at the twenty pounds more than once .
She went very quiet and then uttered ,
“Is twenty pounds enough ?”
“‘I don’t really think so ” came my reply .
“Well try and stretch it out . I don't get paid this week .
I have to go to work now . Can you come back this evening and get started on these jobs ?”
I nodded with a slight sigh and said ,
“ Well I suppose I’ll have to buy the things I need to get the job done .”
Patricia showed me to the door and said ,
“ I’m sorry to push you out but I’m late for work , so I’ll see you later then , ok ”
From the other side of a closing door I replied ,
“ Yea , sure . I’ll see you later. ”
I walked around Hackney for a while looking for a paint and paper store . I had to be careful with the tight budget I had for the job . I knew it was going to be difficult but thought if I bought the smallest quantities I could maybe I would just scrape it in . After shopping around I finally had purchased what I needed to get the job done .
I went to Doris’s place but nobody was home , so back to Patricas I went and sat outside her door waiting for her to come home . I had fallen asleep by the time Patricia got home .
She shook me . Patrica had two little children hanging from each arm , and as she introduced me to them they both smiled at me without fear . They where no more than five years old . I followed them into the flat and went straight to work . I painted the ceiling white and around various carvings of flowers on the ceiling I spent time and hand painted each flower a different colour . I had been so busy painting that had Patricia not have said good night , I might have kept painting the ceiling until the morning light . The flat grew quiet and the sound of snoring came from the children’s bedroom . After I made up the wallpaper paste I started to unroll the paper mural of that sunset on a beach . It came in three sections . I started in the middle and by the time the picture was up Patricia and her family where rising out of bed . As she came into the room . I stood back and smiled at the nights work I had done Patricia walked around like a chief inspector , pointing here and there , murmuring this and that .
Finally she spoke ,
“I don’t like it ”
“ What ?” I replied .
She had a vicious look on her face and almost spat as she spoke .
“ Look at my beautiful sunset its hanging off the wall .”
“ I had to stretch out the paste as it had to go a long way. ”
This really made me see red . The paste and the paper was still drying and if she had given me more money to get the job done in the first place I would have had more than enough paste to put her sunset up without some loose ends here and there .
The more I stood there the worse it got . She launched into another verbal assault on my handiwork,
“ This is horrible . I am really very upset about how my bedroom looks . I can’t stay in here any longer . I have to have some breakfast and get to work ”
I hadn’t slept all night and at this point in time I was ready to explode with rage . I was very hurt by Patricia’s attitude and her criticism of my efforts left me deflated and distracted .Instead of having it out with her in the presence of her two kids I left her flat and returned back to Doris’s place . Doris could see I was upset when I arrived . After I told her what had happened at her daughters she nodded as if this kind of thing was a regular occurrence .Not only had Doris understood and believed every thing I had told her but she turned and handed me ten pounds straight from her purse . She told me not to worry and to get some sleep .. I slept most of the day and was awoke for dinner by Doris .I felt at ease and knew I was welcome at their dinner table .
With the wanderlust itch at my feet and my cash flow slowly but surely eroding away I needed space to write the things racing through my head . It was difficult to find inspiration at Doris’s so I needed an escape hatch .
Most mornings it was a very early rise to make it down into Hackney where I would stand in a long job club queue hoping for a days work . Employers would ring up the Department before seven o’clock each morning with casual work and the jobs went to those first in the queue . I was lucky to have secured some work in a small clothing warehouse in Dalston Lane where I packed and priced various garments for the retail stores .
When the position there closed , I found myself walking the streets of London in the hope of finding some steady work .
Exhausted by my efforts to find employment I eventually stumbled in to the Department of Health and Social Security one cold October morning . In a desperate attempt to receive financial assistance from the Government I explained my situation to the Departments officer at the front reception . He looked at me with a distant pity on his face and seemed to indicate I was not eligible for any assistance .
I persevered until he gave in and told me to take a seat That moment at a window further along a very angry young lad began to scream and hurl abuse at the civil servant who worked for the Department . I made my way past him just as he started to throw punches at the window .
Maybe it was the way I looked at him I don’t know but he turned his anger on me . I continued to walk past him , as he slurred out ,
“ Ah that’s it old man , just mind your own business ”
Like a ton of bricks I thought , am I really an old man . No one had ever before called me that . I was a little shocked by this comment and wondered if all the knocking about I had during the last few years was taking its toll on me .
Deep in a rut of
reality I surrendered to a vacant plastic chair . Around me I found a crowd of people waiting . There where six rows of green plastic chairs filled with people who looked just like I did .
Very tired and beyond frustration we all sat . An hour , then another , then another passed . No one spoke . A fella in my row with a definite weather beaten look decided to move on .
Then at last there was some action , the lady at the reception called the names of at least half of the people in the room . These people seemed to be issued with some kind of payment . The fella with the weather beaten look who had previously left returned to his seat . He held a cup of coffee and a hot chip . Now I can’t say if he had heard my stomach that grumbled and rumbled with hunger , but when he offered me share of his chips I thanked God in heaven for his kindness . He spoke to me in a thick Scottish accent and I was educated by a man who had obviously lived rough in London for many years . He told me every one of his six different names and addresses and how he managed to receive six different giro cheques every week . He also told me where I could find some food and shelter if I needed to find it .
I had spent all day waiting at the Social Security Office without anything to show for it all at the end of the day . However I did have a short list of places where I could find emergency accommodation thanks to my friend the Scottish traveller .
As the days went on I felt I had worn out my welcome with Doris and her family and even though she would have continued to provide accommodation for me in her flat I decided it was time for me to move on . It was really nice to have had time to praise and worship with the Doris and the community at the Bible Way Church but for Gods grace there I had to be leaving them and with hope in my heart I moved into my new surroundings at St Pauls International Youth Hostel . I slept in the bottom bunk in dormitory 66 all the inmates if you like where from all over the world . After a long day busking in Central London it was refreshing to speak with some of the friendly Australians and Canadians at the Carters Lane Youth Hostel . I was refreshed by the company of kind people and almost felt human again to the point were I hoped a laugh might squeeze out and surprise my broken heart . I sat with the other travellers and listened to their wonderful stories and wished I could make up some for to tell them but instead we played chess and shared our moments in silence .
I watched as my pawns feel victim to Queen and Bishop . I had to strike back with my Castle . It was at this point when the game took on new meaning .
I was lost as the challenger spoke chess talk . I took his meaning as a clever chess strategy and told myself not to be distracted . I found the American travellers very genuine and generous with their time and although faces changed most every day there where a few people like myself who remained .The world was spinning fast and I really didn’t realise it until the day it suddenly stopped for me . One day after I returned from busking and to my shock I found all of my belongings had been taken from underneath my bed . All I had was gone . Money , clothes , personal documents , passport , in fact all I had was gone except for what I stood up in and my guitar .. Completely shattered and as alone as I had ever felt in my entire life . I wondered how I would ever get out of this situation . I asked myself the question is there anything good I can take from this . Then it came to me that God had been taking care of my work . With a great sigh of relief I was glad to have left all my songs in a bag at the Good Shepherd Mission Maybe it was then I realised that a blessing was on my work . It wasn’t the first time may I add that my songs and literary works where protected from harm so I knew there was something special about what I was doing . I tried to imagine that everything that goes wrong is for a purpose .
I tried to that the purpose I had was right and hoped somehow to right all the wrongs with my songs .
I dreamt that one day I would be famous and that my
Songs would be popular .
I made my way to Bishopsgate and reported the theft to the police . There was nothing they could do except make the report and file it away .
I asked them if they could contact my bank in Australia and inform them about my situation but they answered ,
“ Why don’t you tell your bank in London ”
“ I don’t have a bank in London ”. I told them ,
“ Sorry , its a tough world out there ” came the reply .
I walked from the police station in the snow with no money and no place to go . The thought of Linda crossed through my mind , as did Doris , but I had burned those bridges behind me .
When the Salvation Army at Blackfriars found me I was in a bad way I had been sleeping rough and was in need of food and rest .
After some weeks I picked up and was walking around again on my feet . I was informed by the Captain of the Salvation that a friend of mine in Australia by the name of Joe Zaiter had contacted people in Australia and informed them that I had gone missing .
For many people they would have written off my disappearance in London as another regular event but no . I had angels on my side .
During the time I had left Australia I had been sending postcards and correspondence from all of the places where I was .
When my good friend Joe had not received and word from me for a while he did a very noble thing and informed officers of the Salvation Army in Granville back in Sydney that I had gone missing .
Then in turn chased up their people in London who went on a search for me . It really is a miracle they found me , but they did .
Because I was without money and clothes , the Salvation Army helped me to obtain income support from the Department of Health and Social Security . At last now there was money to pay my keep at Blackfriars . I attended their prayer time each morning with the Salvos and found new places to visit during the day in London .
First I found myself walking to the gates of Buckingham Palace .
I tried to ask the guards if I could get in and talk to the Queen but they never answered me . I asked how I could get a job in the palace but they refused to speak . Eventually I was told to move . After a while I discovered Hyde park and the hecklers and began to speak my mind to the people of the way . After all there were more than a few who had to loose it before they could find it and I was one of those people . Now the way I found was like on this narrow path
Of life where faith is the only companion you have .
My way became a walk in faith every day .
I was known as the Poet prince and pauper of Piccadilly . I met and spoke with African Kings and made friends in the wild West End . There are so many things buzzing on the West End every second of the day . London has many doors and behind those doors are people in shells like prisoners of fate awaiting release . There are so many things just outside the door . From drugs to drink . From poverty to hunger from greed to comfort . Where the hopeless lay begging for food ,good men and women . with their hands outstretched .
Where the rich go eating and filling themselves so does their shame and the Thames turns everyday greener and deeper until the satisfaction of its hunger is consumed by its shame .
When you are in the lions mouth you can always find a compassionate heart . On the other side of the coin you’ll find the breath of the lions roar from Lambeth to the Tower bridge door was cold and without pity . London is a big city and its takes a brave man to try and tame the lion on its streets . Everyone is looking for something and somebody I was looking for a break with my work . I sang all day without any pay to the passers by . Abuse and scorn from morn to night taught you to fight even harder to make it work out right .
I wandered through Waterloo like a man on a mission with inspiration flowing in a storm of new song writing that had returned with a vengeance .
All I needed was a place to sit and write down on paper how I felt . I found that around London there were lots of empty houses and flats. There were run down empty buildings and although some of these provided a perfect place to write I wished for something a little more cleaner and so I went walking from street to street everyday . Not to far away from the South Bank of the Thames I came across places of intrigue . My feet took me to the inner secrets of sidewalks in life where I spend hours everyday in the Poetic Library at the top of the Festival Hall . It was for me my sanctuary . My escape hatch from the world .
I sat most every day inside the Poetry Library and became very prolific with my literary works during this time . Now I really had a place where I felt at home . With my collection of songs now growing I realised how much suffering is a part of all that . Anything worth its salt is suffered for .
I thought about Tin Pan Alley days and took some strength from that and started walking into publishers off the street . I even went into a stockbrokers in Sun Street and asked if they could support me financially with my songs . I was so surprised when I was brought into the managers large office .For a long discussion . He almost came to the party but when he asked for my contact details I was unable to give him any because of my current homeless situation .
Someday’s I walked into pubs and if there was piano there I would sit myself down and start to play some of my songs . Sometimes it worked out and the crowd enjoyed it . Other times the patrons were too drunk even too notice . Now and then I was send packing by the publican .
I shared my gift every chance I had . All my songs were living moments . They were personal and powerful . I wanted them to be heard and I needed them to be appreciated .London is a hard place to be when you’re alone and trying to get a break . I continued to busk and make music everyday but as far as getting that break nothing was really happening .
EMOTIONS OF A CITY
