Bring pictures of Cosmic Dawn
We are stardust after all,
Shame bombers aren’t butterflies,
All this time on from Woodstock.
Fill minds with infinity,
Shift thoughts to universal,
Away from minutiae.
Encourage contemplation
Of paradigms that blow minds,
Move thoughts away from mundane,
To phantasmagorical.
Do not allow focus on
Immediacy of life,
Poverty, sickness nor wealth,
Bring on artful distraction,
Flood out impenetrable,
Those artificial dream scapes
That ultimately lead to
Ultra dissatisfaction.

Harry Rogers, In the Red Bedroom, 28th June 2021

War of the narrative ramps up tension,
Sabres rattle, bolt on apprehension,
Insert mainstream media upon bridge,
Issue fire proofed outfits to privileged,
Both sides revel in dark paranoia,
Ignore advice of humanist lawyers,
Leaders need threat of distant enemies,
To justify growth of their arsenals.
But is there crime here in the Crimea?
Or creation of underlying fear?
Bankrupt, this fifties ideology
Pervades highest corridors of power.
In Europe and Russia us folks buy pain,
For the bewildered across the Ukraine.

Harry Rogers, in The Yellow Room, 27th June 2021

Hard storms rage long
Darkling flash song
Something is wrong.

Split asunder
Summer thunder
Tears up under

Where shall we go?
If we’re alone?
We need a home.

What we need
Is Unity

For today
Need Unity

All the world
Wants unity

Bring it now
Love unity

We all gots to get together
We gots to build a better place
Join up one by one by one now
Let’s unify whilst we still can

When storm rides out
Outside we shout
Put aside doubt

Hair dried in place
Smile on our face
One human race

Joined hand in hand
Nothing is planned
One happy band

What we need
Is Unity

For today
Need Unity

All the world
Wants unity

Bring it now
Love unity

Bring it now
Love unity

Bring it now
Love unity

Before it gets too late for me to see.

Harry Rogers, In the yellow room, 23rd June, 2021

A small pile of red bricks in Amersham,
All that remains of Keith’s local party,
Where once there were hopes of building a wall,
Now there is little chance left there at all.
Mandelsonian disrupters at work,
Take us on magical mystery tour
To strange, prefigured, Orwellian place,
Where everyone has a two sided face,
Where lies are piled sky high in full out trays,
And no-one believes what anyone says.
New Labour nonces blame Corbyn, again,
Lib Dem romancers fling new austere pain.
Garden TV parties spring up in pubs,
Football means more than political subs.

Harry Rogers, In the Red Bedroom, 23rd June 2021.

I’m overcome by realisation.
By the life lived by a woman, Ella.
Known as Jean Rhys she short circuits my mind.
Brought up short in The Wide Sargasso Sea,
I am knocked off my sleek sex waxed surfboard.
A hurricane of understanding comes,
Climbing back on my board, bracing for the
Giant third age wave, rolling over weeds,
Ready to be ridden in clear sunlight,
Towards shining, swirling, vortex centre,
Where the flotsam and jetsam disappears,
Sucked into deepest blue water below,
To forever swim down amongst the eels,
Never escaping dark, tangled, green, reeds.

Harry Rogers, In Harriboy’s Hut, Aberbanc – Easter Monday 2017. Revised in the red bedroom, 23rd June 2021.

Aimee is a saviour,
She knows what is what
Knows how easy boredom comes
How strong is the game.
Easy conversation
Leads to find my needs
She uses her instinct,
Drills down instantly.
Stands her ground with a smile,
Very readily
Searches for friendship crux,
Goes straight to the point
Enables music flow,
Brings me some earphones,
I can recuperate,
Aimee you are great.
Aimee, Aimee, Aimee,
You are truly great.

Harry Rogers, In Cardiac Care Unit, Gwilli Hospital, Carmarthen, 19th June 2021.

Spectrum warfare behind scenes,
Control airways by any means,
Tanks, trenches, no longer matter,
Troops with rifles are so old school.
Autonomous mm spectrum drones,
Robot ships, and pilotless planes,
Communicate by radio,
Seek out algorithymic targets.
Machine learned combat veterans,
Use wireless now to swell coffers,
Politicians love to see none
Of their boys flown in body bags.
Keep all collateral damage,
Overseas, out of sight and mind.
The spectrum battlefield is here,
Old warfare now can disappear,
Military industrial
Complex brings profits far more grand,
Now wireless warfare’s in the land.

Harry Rogers In Major Room One, Glangwilli A&E, 18th June, 2021

One thing we can predict for sure,
This ain’t ever going away.
Not now, not ever, not no more,
It’s here forever and a day.
We will be jabbed and jabbed again,
Throughout the rest of all our lives.
Groundhogs run in and out with pain,
It’s luck that dictates who survives.
Still how much better do we feel,
Boris has ate another meal,
One more big fish inside his creel,
He’s bagged Australian trade deal.
How warm the cockles of my heart,
As propaganda games begin,
Already fizzles like long, slow fart,
Remind me how we put him in.

Harry Rogers, in the yellow room, 15th June 2021

“This taking the knee thing”
That’s what Fiona said
On Question Time tonight.
Just sums up where we’re at.
Such blatent flipancy,
From this roadshow antique
Who believes it’s her right,
As a top presenter,
To set political
And social agendas.
Her denigration and
Naked belittling
Of anything vaguely
Left wing and progressive
Continues on unchecked,
Sadly, week after week.
Black Lives Matter, campaign
In English Football game,
Up for public debate,
“This taking the knee thing.”
It’s not political,
Is It?Well yes, it is,
Just not on the radar
Of Labour or Tories.

Harry Rogers, In Harriboy’s Hut, 14th June 2021

I see you’re still going to that cellar bar,
Still driving there in that old fifties car
Same old place where once love was begun
Desperately seeking out some long lost fun
Where everyone you see is almost young
People have I love you on the tip of their tongue

Almost young
So very nearly young
Almost young
So very nearly young

Gathered in the corners, away from the light
Touching starngers hands though till midnight
Kissing in the dark, holding on so tight,
Like finch chicks in a nesting box, out of sight
Wondering whether this really feels right.
Could it work out? Maybe it just might.

Almost young
So very nearly young
Almost young
So very nearly young

Once in a while you take a bit of a chance,
Move onto the floor for a long slow dance,
Look wistfully across where the young folk are
On the shiny bright side of the cellar bar
To that place where love was once begun
Dancing in the shadows with the almost young

Almost young
So very nearly young
Almost young
So very nearly young

Harry Rogers, In the old study, 7th July 2012

Winter has been long and hard

Springtime also cold and wet

Summer’s very nearly here

You are coming home again

It’s been far far too long

Since you had to go away

See the sunshine

Shining through the trees

Shining through the trees

Shining over you and me

I’m waiting for your old white car

To come on down our lane

Can’t wait to hear your old white car

And see your smiling face again

Now the sun is back again

You brought the sun

back again

See the sunshine

Shining through the trees

Shining through the trees

Shining over you and me

Harry Rogers, In the old study, 2015

Scientists in white lab coats,
Wheeled out, yet again,
To bale out politicians,
That bring austere pain.
Expert justification,
Old canard so sour,
Wielded, nation by nation,
Charlatan power.

Biden to Bolsanaro,
Johnson to Macron,
Will blame boffins in white coats,
When it all goes wrong.
Slowly our eyes glaze over,
Sombre songs we sing,
People flock onto beaches,
Bank holiday fling.

Governments dole out good news,
Their lips drip with cream,
Pass balls to academics,
To roll out bad dreams.
Leaders need these panjandrums,
To stand up on screen,
Throughout elite history,
Always been obscene.

Harry Rogers, In The Red Bedroom, 5th June 2021.

Speculate. Where and how mind meets world,
Versus situations where world meets mind?
How easy is it to manipulate
Perception? To generate mass belief,
In resurrectional concepts as truth?
Convince multitudes there’s freedom of choice,
At same time deny alternative voice?
Perpetual reminders pumped, daily,
Through media organs, built to ensure,
We respect royalty and rule of law.
Lately disrupters gain credence anew,
Still nothing changes to overall view.
Such questions perplex as I journey on,
Towards inevitable terminus.

Harry Rogers, In The Red Bedroom, 3rd July 2021.

News bounces from radio against wall,
Heard new variant, flew in from Nepal.
In same way there’s a grey zone of warfare
Could it be there is a grey zone of health?
That space in between peace and declared war,
Where arms manufacturers operate,
Sales executives occupy high ground,
Set up stalls at fairs to pimp deterrence.
After all, nobody wants to start war,
This is ,they say, what weaponry is for.
Maintain status quo in honest regimes,
Shore up capitalist edifaces
Against concepts of democratic change.
Grey zone newspeak infects global research.

Harry Rogers, In The Red Bedroom, 3rd June, 2021

Government and media tell us each day,
Property prices are soaring away,
Now is the best time to buy a new home,
Whilst interest rates are historically low,
Lenders flood markets with easy money,
House prices rocket, supply is curtailed.
How can bubbles grow so big and not burst?
Level up red walls, put rentiers first,
Protect portfolio entrepreneurs,
Maximise right to evict poor renters.
Vaccine relief floods out from TV screens,
Unfurloughed homeless spill out onto streets.
Housing departments collapse under strain,
Remind me, what price John Lewis curtains?

Harry Rogers, In The Red Bedroom, 2nd June 2021

This is a repost from 2013 with the addition of an MP3 recorded in 2016.

SHE USED TO BE ABLE
TO SPEND HALF HER DAY
SAT AT HER TABLE
OUTSIDE THE TIME CAFE
WITH A CAPPUCINO
AND A ROLL UP CIGARETTE
WATCHING THE WORLD GO
HOW MUCH BETTER CAN IT GET?

SHE’S TRAPPED NOW
BY THE WHITE COATS
SHE’S TRAPPED NOW
BY THE WHITE COATS

SHE WANTS TO GO OUT
LIKE SHE ALWAYS HAD
SHE WANTS TO GO OUT
THEY SAY SHE IS MAD
KEEP HER LOCKED AWAY
IN THAT WAY THEY CAN
LOCK HER WELL AWAY
IN COLD COMFORT LAND

SHE’S TRAPPED NOW
BY THE WHITE COATS
SHE’S TRAPPED NOW
BY THE WHITE COATS

THEY TOOK HER FREEDOM
WRAPPED IT UP IN RULES
RULES OVER FREEDOM
FROM A BUNCH OF FOOLS

SAY IT’S FOR THE BEST
FOR HER PROTECTION
IT’S THE VERY BEST
FORWARD PROJECTION

SHE’S TRAPPED NOW
BY THE WHITE COATS
SHE’S TRAPPED NOW
BY THE WHITE COATS

BABY IT’S COLD INSIDE
BABY IT’S COLD INSIDE
 
Harry Rogers, in Carmarthen 05-03-2013

It’s the wedding of the week
A match that’s made in heaven,
They’ve already made a tweak
To flat number eleven.
Radio stations churn out
Silly love songs everyday,
This fucking covid nightmare,
Feels as if it’s here to stay,
Sun shines brightly on the beach,
People flood onto the shore,
Swim in sea, sunbathe on sand,
This is what lock down was for?
This is UK groundhog day,
It’s twenty twenty again
I watch late night TV news,
Well, at least it didn’t rain.
Even our two newly weds,
Have skipped out down to the coast,
Most of us are gate happy,
We all miss our freedom most.
Me?
I only want to live………
a little bit longer

Harry Rogers, in the Yellow Room, 1st June 2021.