Tag Archives: ’70’s pop culture


Long ago and oh so far away ,

your words spoke to me

though they’re silent now ;

yesterdays you brought them all

back again with words

that fell like raindrops

onto desert sands ;

Then the showers came

the storm and the floods ,

till your voice wearied itself

with its burden of honesty

and all your insights

into suffering and love ;

Still now your storm has passed ,

the stream of all you said

flows on and on ;

And you were right after all ,

Rainy days and Mondays will never be the same .

( Footnote )
Karen carpenter 1950-83
The Carpenters[1] were an American vocal and instrumental duo consisting of siblings Karen and Richard Carpenter. Producing a distinctively soft musical style, they became among the best-selling music artists of all time. During their 14-year career, the Carpenters recorded 11 albums, 31 singles, five television specials, and a short-lived television series. Their career ended in 1983 by Karen’s death from heart failure brought on by complications of anorexia. Extensive news coverage surrounding the circumstances of her death increased public awareness of eating disorders.[2][3]

The duo’s brand of melodic pop produced a record-breaking run of hit recordings on the American Top 40 and Adult Contemporary charts, and they became leading sellers in the soft rock, easy listening and adult contemporary genres. The Carpenters had three No. 1 singles and five No. 2 singles on the Billboard Hot 100 and fifteen No. 1 hits on the Adult Contemporary chart. In addition, they had twelve top 10 singles. To date, the Carpenters’ album and single sales total more than 100 million units.[4]

leper messiah

He’s gone away

& won’t be back ,

all his future words

will remain unwritten ,

all future songs

unsung ,

all future art

unpainted & undrawn ;

All the Young Dudes too

are faded & gone ,

& the Spiders from Mars

are out of tune :

however the day ends

its epitaph remains :-

” Ziggy played guitar “.



A 1970’s 10cc Song

Care Home.

care ,
home ,
neither care nor home ;
we are turnips hung upon the rack ,
awaiting the inevitable
being tossed into the sack ,
sans identity ,sans something to say ,
sans someone to be,sans someone who matters ;
we are ” product ” ,
an object for ” professionals ”
to exercise their medieval superstitions on ;
group activities , collectively remembering
a past that never even existed ,
giving us meals ,wiping our arse
the time surely is at hand
when we have to end this farce .