An evening with the Punk Poet
. . . John Cooper Clarke.
A National Treasure
. . . if Bedlam was a nation π
Fleeing Chicken Town, evidently,
with Hugo Race, myself, and . . .
some culprits from the Wreckery.
Nick Cave had fled the country.
Edward the Axeman had also gone
missing, after breaking a string.
Most profoundly,
the Punk Poet
asked for a coat.
So Hugo hurriedly
offered his shirt.
As the Seeker
searched for a light
the High Lipster
blessed Hugo with a
solemn benediction;
“May your Kingdom
… be in Armageddon.”
Knowing that the Punk Poet
had just spent ten years
in an open-necked shirt
I pretended not to listen.
Plus, my coat was Irish linen!
Some came for communion
Some came for enlightenment
Some came to worship
Others came to learn, and
gaze upon that Essex tan βͺ
Then we all chipped in for
an urgent blood transfusion.
God bless you John Cooper Clarke!
Stay strong & keep on keeping on.
Words and Images;
David B. Redpath Β© 2018 – 2020
OH DEAR GOD these are BRILLIANT!!! Man. Thank You and Cheers!!! π
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Thanks for reading Katy.
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My pleasure! I am in love with all those pictures. π
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likes for eternity thanks for sharing π
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Glad you liked my glossy coloured display
of fellow Charm School dropouts π
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oh, yeah, i remember you guys now, you used to sit behind me in teacup pinky articulation class and throw spit wads in my hair! lol amazing work i’m in love with it π
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Time & tide catches up
with all and every punk π
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Speechless, simply excellent!
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There was a lot of speechlessness
going around back then, Leonie π
Fortunately the Punk Poet seemed
to be unaffected
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Brilliant photos. Very cool. π
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Glad you liked themβοΈ
And they’re retro celludoid.
Much cooler than digital π
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I have so many questions about these photos! π Wonderful:)
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Whatever happens at the Acland street
Esquire Hotel, St. Kilda, often ends up
cited in court, or whispered about on
social media. So sorry about that, Stella,
but I’m sworn never to tell π
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I understand
David youβve led an interesting life
A book I would buy in any store
I like your Irish linen coat!
I think you made the right decision to remain silent
I did notice you found your signature sunglasses πΆ
Not before we saw a rare glimpse of your eyes π
Wait…is that weird that I noticed π³
I may have examined too close
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The camera never lies, Stella.
Only Poets, lovers, and politicians.
The eyes are windows to the soul
… and I try not to scare anyone π
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π I agree
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i totally agree with that crazy wordlessspoken bird and what she said on June 5th
oh yeah she’s a little off dont entertain her too much
π thanks for reading my stuff David π
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I thought she’s spot on βοΈ
Likewise, thanks for coming along for
a crash course down mayhem lane π
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Love this immensely,
The tributaries intensely,
Contributing to rivers of rust and bone,
While photos and poems continue to be home,
In the body of your mind and truth.
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Thanks … intensely π
Alas, the past is a foreign country.
Where the fine young cannibals of
Desolation Row did things with no
thought for tomorrow.
Home is where the low tide reaps
what the high times have sowed.
“Good friends we have,
oh, good friends we’ve lost
along the way.
In this great future,
you can’t forget your past
So dry your tears, I seh.”
~ Bob Marley
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Love these pictures and the words that showcase the night
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Actually, It was an after the show
get together. John Cooper-Clarke
had just performed his Punk Poetry
routine at an Infamous St. Kilda
venue in Fitzroy Street, St. Kilda.
And the Wreckery (the original
Bad Seeds) were the support act.
Hence the bleary eyed musos.
When Nick Cave left Australia to
make his mark overseas, the boys
felt abandoned. But they reformed
as the Wreckery, and got on with it π
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I like the name, wreckery. Well thanks for the explanation
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Interesting photos, David. π
What year were those pics takΔn?
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Thanks for that, Chris.
Nobody who was there that night can rightly remember the year. But I did
find a hotel receipt dated 1985? π
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I’m no punt poet
Fascinating notes
Wondrous photos
Tickled my toes
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Ivor, I would’ve placed a bet, at the TAB, that you were a Punt Poet π
But certainly no Punk!
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These are just fabulous. Thanks for sharing.
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Love these with my whole heart. Thank you david for sharing this with us. π
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A trip down memory lane for me.
But then, I always felt right at home
roaming the Boulevard of broken
dreams, down Desolation Row.
I only ever saw a fun palace, till
I got my prescription sunglasses π
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Beautifully well expressed. π
Punk rock forever.
Minor Threat – In My Eyes
https://youtu.be/D6to2A4kbJs
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I was considered a major threat
since I was a minor πͺ
Especially by friends & family π
βοΈ πΆπ
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hahahahaha!!! Good one.
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The βEssex tanβ line is classic βπΌ
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But I don’t think John can put
all the blame on the English clime
for his fashionably pale pallor π
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Pallid and pale can be very attractive l find ππΌββοΈ … especially in women.
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But a pulse would come in handy? π€
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ππππΌ
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Damn… still my favorite post EVER! ππππ
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John Cooper Clarke, the Punk Poet,
is still dwelling down in Essex town. I could give you his number π±π
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….. ….. π€― I gotta go to England!!!
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I really want that ghetto blaster
so I can play my favourite mixed tapes! ππΆ
the curtains are pretty sweet also ππ§‘
Love the photos David πΈππΆ
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If only I could remember π±
where I left that ghetto blaster?
It was loud enough to dismember,
so perhaps it’s for the better
… that I just can’t remember π€
Glad you enjoyed the pics, Lia ππ
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Just checked out yer fine bloke
This song makes my heart palpitate
in a joyous pirouette, no joke π€πππΌ
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1gB-KNqa9k
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They broke the mould after
making John Cooper Clarke.
It just looks like they reused
the same one as Bob Dylan π
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Didn’t see this till now. Hugs. π
God reuses the same mould many a time,
Sometimes a-breaks it with its flow of fine wine. π
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https://twitter.com/outosego/status/1286468940164665351
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Great pics my friend
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Thanks Drew.
The only one missing
is you ππ€π
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Lol π€ͺπ
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Is that blonde guy with the moustache wearing jeans in the Some come to worship photo you when you were younger, David?
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don’t know J C Clarke. Will look him up. Hugely entertaining and enlightening π my favourite line is ‘ten years in an open-necked shirt’ π don’t know why?
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John Cooper Clarke was a school
teacher for a decade, which goes
a long way to explaining his eclectic
poetry π€ His poem, ‘Ten Years In
An Open Necked Shirt’, recounts
that stage of his life.
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that’s the one I’ll read then. Thanks, David π
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Strong isnt a word Iβd associate with JCC β itβs a bloody miracle he has got this far.
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The miracle of modern medicine.
Not to mention the pharmaceuticals,
so my lips are sealed, Graham π€«
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Sounds like the pot you had, had glue in it David. Always read the label.
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It was meant to be a pot party,
but all I got was Tupperware!? π
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