Paul J Penton – Songwriter

Fragments & thoughts – Aug 7

Sliding doors

As I’m gliding down Chapel Street
on smooth layers of ashphalt
past beggars looking vacant
and two dollar shops looking vibrant
past the factory seconds place
where  a bloke is having trouble
removing his security screen
As I’m gliding
each shop I pass
that has  a door of sliding glass that opens beside me
revealing a sliver
another layer of consumption
except for the banks of course
because they’re only interested in taking
not giving
how much power am I consuming
by making these doors close and open
it’s just another another nail in the coffin

Plasma TV box

Two blokes are deconstructing a box
for a plasma TV
they’re just not big enough really
those boxes
As well as consuming half the grid
these things are big and bulky and ugly
it’s another sin of consumerism
another nail in the coffin
and another belch of greenhouse gas
everytime the button is pushed

There’s a girl out the front of a flat
around twenty something
just hanging there
waiting for something to happen
have here expectations been met
is her life everything she imagined
has she evr really been challenged?
By her dressed down manner
and her general demeanour
I’d say things are not quite working out the way
she hoped

she knows that anybody can be famous
and almost everybody these days expects to be famous
whether they can sing or dance or not
but she doesn’t think it takes work
hard work
and talent
and capacity
and ability
you cannot be everything you want
nor will never be
if you haven’t got the basics
so what about some realistic expectations
not the ‘you can be whatever you want’
because some things are not possible
if you sing out of tune
no degree of training will make you sing in tune
if you can’t tap your feet in time
you’ll never be on dancing with the stars
accept your lot
work with what you’ve got
to make it the best it can be
and maybe
maybe
something might happen.

Bus stop

cold metal seat
biting my arse
air temperature
cold enough to scare monkeys made of brass
eyes are radars
hunting down the road
looking for those green luminous digits
that herald the arrival
of the saviour
waiting for a sign of the sign
that the bus is about to arrive

Gym Hall

A gym hall filled with light and hoops
and polished boards
and yellow lines
and during the day
the sound of voices echoing round
like the thundering hooves of wild horses.