05 Aug 2010 FROM 'ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE' TO 'MY SWEET LORD'
Spiritual hit singles in the UK, 1967-71

22 Jun 2010 DJ Show 20 June 2010

13 Jun 2010 DJ show June 13th ~ songlist and link

10 Jun 2010 Playlist from June 6 radio show

11 Apr 2010 All the Waterboys, past and present

17 Jan 2010 Mike's world: The Two Martin Decents

14 Oct 2009 Ronald Reagan and the concert tickets

30 Sep 2009 MY ROCK'N'ROLL SKOOL

02 Sep 2009 Bullworker Blues

05 Aug 2009 The "Other" Steve

11 Jul 2009 Bruce's cast-off characters

10 Jul 2009 The title "King Of Pop"

19 May 2009 More deep forgotten words of light

17 May 2009 Long forgotten words of light

05 Apr 2009 The Paintings of AE

24 Mar 2009 tHe pAsSiNg oF tHe ShEE

09 Mar 2009 ThE jOyS oF mAsHiNg

13 Dec 2008 Luke Kelly

10 Oct 2008 My Love For Her Is Fire / A poem

04 Oct 2008 Edinburgh 1987 / A poem

27 Sep 2008 The Revolution Is Established / a poem

17 Sep 2008 San Francisco Beats'n' Scuzz musings

15 Sep 2008 Spanking Kinky Friedman

24 Jun 2008 Return to the West of Ireland

For blogs before June 2008, click here.

4th October 2008
Edinburgh 1987 / A poem
by Mike Scott

Someone asked if I would post another poem set in Edinburgh. Here's one:

EDINBURGH 1987
I'm back in the old town
first time in years
and I'm seeing through new eyes
and I'm seeing Gods
Pannish Gods, dark Gods, old earthen farmer Gods
glimmer out from the faces of my companions
Capricious playful musical Gods
sign to me secretly from behind the eyes of my band members
A philosopher God from the morning of time
- Greek or ancient Celtic -
muses behind the high brow of Norman the soundman
and our wilful Dublin roadie Jimmy Hickey
stands forth, a wild bearded amoral warrior God
in the prime of Olympian splendour

What initiation, what veil have I passed through
that my vision is so altered?

My transfigured eye alights on a fellow band: We Free Kings
seven cartoon characters in search of a page
playing a song called Scarecrow on a foot-high stage,
a gang of ragamuffin fiddlers, tramps and bohemians
concocting wild stramash with music boxes, cymbals and bows
The whistler and drummer have puckish scrubs of goatful beard
The singer is plucked from The Bash Street Kids by way of Visions Of Cody
and in the crowd: maidens
the bloom of Scotland
with sweet wild apple faces
echoes of shortbread, tartan skirts, v-neck sweaters and bonfires

Meanwhile
Arthur's Seat and the Crags
flit past the backs of buildings
always moving
and down on the street
Robbie the Pict wants to talk to me

©2008 Mike Scott

 

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