Friday, February 27, 2009

RETURN FROM MADEIRA

I have not been blogging lately as in Madeira struggling with Netbook and WIFI. I think WIFI probably stands for “Will it?………..Fuck it!”

That said I had a fabulous time as usual, lots of good food and vinho tinto e vinho branco, lots of walking and just generally chilling out. Actually it was a little chillier than usual much of the time, 14, 15 degrees, much like a British Summer but drier and certainly good to avoid the British Winter.

I was interviewed by Anne Line Abotgen, a Norwegian Radio Journalist for a regular travel programme she presents for the Nowegian equivalent of BBC Radio as I am a recognised ‘old hand’ on Madeira.

I also managed a trip out to the East side of the Island in the company of my friends Rosey and Graham with Madeira’s best taxi driver/tour guide Jose Manuel who speaks good English and is eloquent, informative, friendly and greatly entertaining.

Now it is back to work. Last night that was supporting and MCing Zoox at the award wining Black Swan Folk Club at York, a very lively trio of excellent musicians playing in innovative ways, highly recommended.

Apart from working on some of my ironstone mining songs and their provenance that are going up on the Yorkshire Garland website and the usual round of Folk Clubs the next major event is a half hour support for the Waterson Carthy + Chris Parkinson Concert at the National Centre for Early Music at York. Some songs, some poetry and some music on Native American Flute.

Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com

Posted by Tony Morris at 11:20:05 | Permalink | No Comments »

Sunday, February 1, 2009

TONY MORRIS ARCHIVE - POEM WRITTEN IN MADEIRA

CAPTAIN GARDEN AND THE PIANIST

They stood on the bridge at midnight,

Captain Garden and the Pianist.

The Captain with his pistol

And, by half a bar, he missed.

The Pianist drew a white note

And then he drew a black.

He fired them in four time

And the Captain, he drew back.

The Captain, he looked long and hard.

He put his finger to the wind.

The Pianist, he did likewise

Only it signalled he didn’t mind.

The Captain he was furious.

He fired another shot.

The Pianist lifted up the lid,

He’d worked a Manchester spot.

The bullet holed the piano

But not the Pianist.

He just laughed and played along

While the Captain cursed and hissed.

But the Captain he was crafty,

The reason he was recruited,

Next day he wired the piano.

The Pianist was electrocuted.

©Tony Morris 2000

www.tonymorrispoet.com

Posted by Tony Morris at 16:55:15 | Permalink | No Comments »