Excerpt for Songs for Joss: part one 1981-1990 by Colin Rock, available in its entirety at Smashwords


Songs for Joss Part 1

published by bozar books at Smashwords

copyright 2011 Colin Rock



Songs for Joss

The Valentine poems and songs

Part One: 1981 to 1990


Published on Smashwords


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All rights Reserved.


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Table of Contents


1981 Take pity

1981 (Song 1) Thank you, Miss

1982 Rowley’s elegy

1982 (Song 2) Last Anzac

1983 Do you understand?

1983 (Song 3) The boy most likely

1984 Collie wollie doodle

1984 (Song 4) Night shift

1985 I’d never be a nurse

1985 (Song 5) When I was a boy

1986 Tap tapping

1986 (Song 6) A little bit tired

1987 Fly me to the moon

1987 (Song 7) Will you come to me?

1988 Doll of straw

1988 (Song 8) Bars & steel guitars

1989 They’ve shot John Lennon

1989 (Song 9) Just another day

1990 Ten years

1990 (Song 10) This first day


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These songs can be accessed at http://www.myspace.com/576376181


Some videos can be seen at ‘songsforjoss’ on Facebook



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introduction

These modest poems were written for Joss on Valentine’s Day, or maybe the day before. The songs were written sometime during the appropriate year. I’m very tempted to improve or change a lot of these efforts, but that would be cheating wouldn’t it?


I was pretty keen to snare Joss so I went all out on that first Valentine’s Day in 1981, presenting her with a flower, a chocolate and the ‘Take Pity’ poem. Fortunately she sniffed, nibbled, and did indeed. I never intended to write more, but Rowley’s tragic death occurred on the next anniversary and momentum built.


I acquired an old guitar about that time and started writing songs of no great merit. One day one of the kids said ‘that one’s not too foul, old Dad’, and enthused by that great praise I sought out Richard Towers. I thank him for making them as palatable as they are.


Unfortunately we lost a lot of photographs to flood damage so had to scrounge many of these from friends and relatives. The ugly ones were provided by enemies.





I first put this collection together in 2007. We’d been together for 27 years by then and I’d written a poem and a song for Joss on each Valentine’s Day. It was time to cobble them up because we’d decided to hobble ourselves together at long last: on April 25th, Anzac Day, we went to Las Vegas and were married by Mr Elvis Clone.




The collection prompted much nostalgia. Every song and poem has resonance for us and I’ve jotted down a few stories which came to mind.


Of course there are many other people dear to us: children, grandchildren, parents, family and friends. However these offerings were only for Joss and are snapshots of our time together. It’s been surprising and a little embarrassing to find so many people taking an interest.


the songs

I met Richard Towers nearly 20 years ago in New Zealand and he was kind enough to record some of the songs before selfishly going overseas. It was only in January 2007 that I discovered his pathetic hiding place and coerced him into recording more. I think he was a bit daunted to hear my ancient static-filled tapes, most of which have Joss clattering or cackling away in the background. Naturally I didn’t know many of the chords and had to draw little diagrams. He didn’t need them: these musicians are so clever.


Joss and I sing a lot but, alas, somewhat haphazardly. Against almost universal advice I’ve included a few of our original recordings because we vividly remember when and where they were made. Although we hope people listen to the songs as they read through the book, aurally-sensitive folk may wish to skip the ‘Rock & Rock’ efforts.


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The 1st Valentine poem:1981


It was 1967, and I was 17 when I arrived in Auckland from Australia and first met Joss. In December 1968 I was ‘best man’ and she bridesmaid at the wedding of our friends John and Jenny Henry. I was already married, in fact an expectant father, but we do have this poor, but prized, photograph of us together.




Joss went to live overseas and eventually married. Sadly, she and her husband Terry were involved in a car accident on their honeymoon, and she was widowed before Zane was born in 1979. Two years later I crawled to her door.



take pity

Take pity on this kneeling man,

He's sensitive and shy

He's written you this Valentine

To add to your supply


Behind this goblin mask you'll find

A true romantic lover

I am a book of many words

But please ignore the cover


Hey I'm taller than I look down here

May I take your dainty hand?

So beautiful, and yet so strong

And still no wedding band!


Oh I know you could, of course you could

Any man you wanted

I didn't mean it quite like that

I bet you’re keenly hunted


Observe this brightly coloured box

So full of nice surprises

We could open it indoors

Away from prying eyesies


And I will sing a song for you,

Fear not, my old guitar

And the words of twenty-seven songs

Are waiting in my car


But one thing I can promise

I'm not like lesser men

I'll remain romantic to the core

There’s ink inside my pen


And with this ink I'll write for you

Songs and jokes and verses

I'll even write, right at the end

Graffitti on our hearses


Joss, when I remove this goblin suit

Amidst your flowers and pollen

You'll be surprised, and gratified,

For yes! It's me! It’s Colin!


So help me up and let me in

Entwine your hand in mine

And let me know, if yes, or no

You'll be my Valentine.



We didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day much in those days and I might have confused it with Halloween.


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Song number one:1981


I did have about 27songs (it is coincidental that the original collection had the same number) that I’d written on the weekend I learned to play the second-hand guitar I’d purchased on the Friday. I looked good with a guitar on my snaky hip, of course, I’m sure I did…but those fiendish little chord things were a problem so I only learned 3. I was astonished when informed that some guitarists knew as many as six. ‘Thank you, Miss’ is my first song for Joss.


Joss now reminds me that ‘Teddy Bear’ was actually my first song for her, but I can’t bring myself to include this on the CD because it is a powerful instrument of seduction and could be dangerous in the wrong hands.


I’m ready to be your teddy bear in your bed tonight

Baby, that’s all right….

(Change to the other chord I know)

And if you want to be my china doll, all you got to do

Is call on me tonight…



thank you, miss

That first kiss

Thank you, Miss

I’ve never felt this way before

Thank you, Miss

I’ve never felt this way


No I’ve never felt this way

No I’ve never felt this way

So thank you, Miss

For this


(control +click to hear this song)

http://www.myspace.com/576376181/music/songs/thank-you-miss-1981-song-85555716



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The 2nd Valentine poem:1982


We had been living together for about six months by now. I was a solo father looking after son James and daughter Cecilia, so the pathway was cobbled with the usual complications. We got there in the end.


We had somehow acquired a stroppy cat and Rocky the dog, a huge brute of indeterminate parentage. But there was also Rowley the budgie, who would greet me every morning with a tweet of pure exaltation at the wonder of a new day. Of course it was too good to last.


I admit this is not a particularly romantic poem, but sometimes you have to tell it like it is. Mind you, our annual ‘death of the budgie dance’ is quite fun. I get to wear the cardboard beak.



rowley’s elegy

Today there did, alas, occur

A Valentine’s Day massacre

With heavy heart I must relate

The death of my poor feathered mate

(You and Zane were in the bath, but he was only two

And so I blame the fatal act primarily on you)


You should not take a budgie in the bath at any stage

You should not let a budgie, in the bathroom, from its cage

Because while seeking freedom, an outlet from the room

It flew into the mirror, clunk, and nose-dived to its doom


Zane trotted out and gave to me the wet, bedraggled bird

My heart stood still, my throat dried up, I could not say a word

I held its soggy budgie head and gave it mouth to beak

Resuscitation, hoping for a little budgie squeak


Its eye was dim, a floppy head, the tiny heart was still

I cupped it in my shaking hand and placed it on the sill

Oh look, my little budgie buddy, see the velvet sky

See the single star that shines...it shines on you and I

Your soul is free, my dear old mate, there is your flight path

A puddle formed beneath my eyes, just water from the bath


I took a large dessert spoon out and dug a shallow hole

Blindfolded our voracious cat, committed the wee soul

To lie beneath the apple tree, for what place could be fitter?

I thought I heard the faintest ghostly echo of a twitter


Goodbye old friend. I close the cage and scatter seed asunder

Your life is done, I turn the page; goodbye your song of

Wonder


2010 vintage


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Song number two:1982


When we were kids at school, me in Australia, Joss in New Zealand, the Anzac Day remembrance ceremony was a big deal. Old soldiers would come and share their memories from the Gallipolli experience in 1915, and we’d observe what seemed to be an interminable two minute’s silence.


Joss commented that one day the old Anzacs would be no more, and that observation inspired me to write this song. I believe the last Gallipolli veteran died in 2006.


We were sailing to Alaska on Anzac Day in 2005 and all the Aussies and Kiwis, as if by magic, gathered for a ceremony. We played this song, in fact, and Joss also stood up and sang the New Zealand national anthem. We chose the same date, 25th April, to get married. Lest we forget.


Andrew Dixon sings and performs this. He mistakenly changed ‘the silence’ to ‘our silence’. Quite a difference I think.



the last anzac

When we were young we kept the silence

A lonely moment passing by

But now the memory is fading

As we say goodbye

We'll see the last Anzac die


Old men who coughed at our assembly

Old men who led the dawn parade

Every year the ranks grow thinner

As we say goodbye

We'll see the last Anzac die


They lay the wreath, they blow the bugle

They carve an epitaph in stone

Lest we forget their fallen comrades

Lest we forget our own

Lest we forget the cold reminder

Each man dies alone


Once they scrambled up the beaches

Once they fought on Chunuk Bair

Once they dreamed about the future

As we say goodbye

We'll see the last Anzac die


They lay the wreath, they blow the bugle

They carve an epitaph in stone

Lest we forget their fallen comrades


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