P A U L  B U R A

Paul Bura - Poet, Broadcaster, Writer
Found! In the video Archives...


Past Life Experience from the book. Stepping to the Drummer, by Paul Bura. 13min, 9.6 Mb
The re-enactment of a "past life". Just ONE of the stories from Paul's memoir: Stepping To The Drummer by Paul Bura
 
Download the video (13 mins, 9.6Mb )
Stepping To The Drummer, By Paul Bura. £8.90

This neighbour of mine lives at number 91, Albany Drive. This so-called poem describes this unpleasant man to a tee…but the pay-off is rather beautiful!

THANK YOU, THEO

Thank you, Theo, for making our small estate
A place of simple war where you reign supreme
Over what you consider your domain!

Thank you, Theo, for making us suffer the slings and Arrows of your rhetoric, for making us slaves
Under which you wield your whip of ownership (seemingly)

Thank you, Theo, for telling off those simple – but innocent – young boys for playing on your piece of Pavement and for being the bully that you undoubtedly are!

Thank you, Theo, for blocking up your own Kingdom
And blocking us - your subjects - OUT with your precious ‘mettle-shed’, parking your sleek black chariot where you Will - and to hell with the rest of us!

Thank you, Theo, for taking permanent charge of that
One, single, parking space between those precious ‘yellow Lines’ with your SECOND car! (Or is it your third vehicle?)

Thank you, Theo, for hiding behind your wife’s skirts
With the seeming enemy at your door whenever you
Feel ‘fear’ from your foe.

Thank you, Theo, for telling off that 4-YEAR-OLD BOY for
Playing on his little bike (the stabilizers still attached) and making him cry for playing on YOUR LAND (debateable)??

And when his protector - in the form of the boy’s father – Called on you soon after this incident, you AGAIN hid Behind your wife’s skirts telling her: ‘I’m not in!’

Ah, but, my dear Theo, you really should NOT use your

Hosepipe during the drought, THERE IS – AFTER ALL -  A HOSEPIPE BAN! You naughty, naughty Boy! GOTCHA!
 
Naughty Boy Theo!
Photo taken 10th of May 2012!

THE CLOCK TOWER

The Clock Tower in Crest Bay was built in 1852 by Anne White a local philanthropist; it was free standing, about 110 feet tall and used to be powered by clockwork; it had huge weights that had to be cranked or wound up every week. There was a ladder all the way up inside and a small platform that could seat just two men. There were two little wooden doors on either side at the bottom of the tower for entering.
          Every six months or so the same two men had to oil and maintain the encasement as the Clock Tower was right on the seafront and put up with all sorts of weather, especially in the winter.
          The two men, I forget their names, let’s call them Bill and Ben for the convenience of this story.
          Well Bill and Ben used to live at either end of Crest Bay, Bill used to go home for his lunch as he lived that much nearer, and Ben used to bring a packed lunch and a thermos and stay in the tower to eat.
          One day, during its six monthly maintenance, Ben had just began to eat his lunch on the tower’s floor when one of the weights detached itself from the mechanism and plummeted to the floor, striking poor Ben cold dead!
          The two men worked for the council and the local council deemed that Ben should NOT have been in the tower at the time during his lunch break and so compensation could not be paid to his wife and two children.
          That, it seemed, was that! The mechanism was fixed, the weight replaced and all seemed to be well…except from the time that decision by the council was made things appeared to go wrong! The clock struck thirteen when it should have struck twelve, it struck five instead of three, not only that but the hands appeared to move of they own accord…fast, I mean VERY fast.
          Experts were called in that fitted the clockwork mechanism in the first place, but they could find absolutely nothing wrong!
          Then the clock started ringing every half an hour, then every fifteen minutes! The people living on the front complained that it was unbearable and keeping them awake at night.
          The strange thing was that every morning they found the door to the tower open and sandwiches strewn about the floor, where the sandwiches came from nobody knew!
          Was somebody trying to tell them something?

          Meanwhile at Ben’s home photographs of him and his family went missing and turned up at the tower amongst the strewn sandwiches!  Mrs Ben had strange dreams of Ben ringing the clock tower bell and the message: ‘that as long as the council refused to pay her compensation they and the residents would have no peace!’
          The council didn’t believe her and had her house spied on in case it was she that that was causing all the mischief, or maybe was paying somebody! This of course was laughable. They even had two constables posted outside the Clock Tower and STILL the bell sounded at all hours and STILL the sandwiches were thrown about and the door opened!
          A special meeting of the local Urban District Council was held and they agreed to pay Mrs Ben compensation, a small compensation of just £25 pounds!
          The Clock Tower continued to play up and the council was forced to PAY up and raised the compensation to £75!

 
 
 
 
 
Copyright © Paul Bura 2006 - 2012