Wednesday, 1 January 2020

up the path



a pantomime in seven cants


boys & girls I hope we’re sitting tight
once upon a curse it's Folkland time
make a wish or flog yr cow the witch
shall see ye now

*

I

fairy tales are born on lonely walks
mustn’t wander far from sight of home
full of wolves & wizards be these trees
keep to the path

come on Jay we're off to seek & hide
though our step mamma with cruel smiles
keeps insisting we'll come to no more
happy returns

run as if we’re drawn like tiger moths
terrified tho' fascinated by
secret flames & glades of Jabberwocks
axemen in hoods

where does criminology come in
what has science got to say of paths
nowadays we kids consume like black
forest gateaux

no religion just on pagan grounds
right or wrong do battle for our souls
undercut the very steps we take
breadcrumbs of truth

II

Jay & I fetch water from a hill
enterprising place to sink a well
Grandma lives where robbers fear to dwell
don’t bears just kill

orphaned girls who mess their lairs & steal
bowls of oats a topsy-turvy world
we’re inhabiting resembles ours
but inside out

welcome back to Folkland sing the bards
find yr inner frog or princess learn
cheating ways from elves & goblins face
monsters down stairs

social media jungles are the new
backwoods no one even needs to leave
home recruitment is on-line just take
tablets for thrills

pop your user name & password in
one day soon you wake up fully trained
only never pinch yourself stay cool
keep to the path

III

latest craze become a terrorist
dig for hidden arms beneath the trees
train to strangle use a sword or bomb
wear a big vest

Nazi folklore planting Gypsies Jews
reds & fairies under kiddies’ beds
woe betide when laptops turn the scape
goats on our heads

Goebbels' make believe comes true the woods
full of sweet & sticky gingerbread
men for hoods in riding gear to scoff
crumbs to those wolves

smell the bloodlust in the human den
tops cremating bony corpses when
sales of Adolf's blueprints hit the roof
speech acts galore

greet the public every morning mad
dogs & Englishmen may stalk in moon
light while four Teutonic horsemen fear
Whittington's cat

IV

It’s a hey diddle-diddle world where
tins of chocolate soldiers run the pile
Humpty Dumpty stands for president
wins by a smile

folksy themed casinos lady luck
runs amock puts money in thy purse
Desdemona Cinderella but
who buttons Prince

daily news that townsfolk read in bed
toads will rule one day it says so here
swop yr cow for beans ye’ll watch 'em grow
under yr eyes

pull the other it's got bellboys on
joint the barmy army Hamlin’s pride
keep in line Father Christmas comes down
chimneys a street

Arab wishing for the moon poor Tom's
tiny crutch ice picks my heart thou Grinch
Christian Ombudsmen shall get thee first
die at the polls

V

lost by now ye may not follow me
Folkland breaks the laws of geometry
stories like a thousand nights go on
seasons no end

rhyme & reason sleep across the back
rows of cinemas so long ago
half a pound of treacle toffee bought
Fawkes an old guy

bogey men & women rule for real
charming how these moghuls work their clans
strictly ballroom isn't in it when
ugly meets glam

crows have scoffed the crumbs so what break out
orphaned babes the woods are ours to seek
fortunes go compare yrselves to tits
all ye can eat

London bridge has fallen underneath
Charring Cross's Archers all the king's
men have turned to mice their pie is baked
counting house blues

VI

Christmas ain't a-coming in its owl
goose has laid a rotten egg the rooms
at the inn on half price shepherds have
swum to Berlin

Scrooge has gone to bed without his ghost
let him sleep a conscience off for once
sentimental products shouldn’t sway
how people vote

Banksy's traded in his art for loot
no one gives a monkey’s it's the end
user's right to take a present back
give it the sack

click collect to choose yr favourite fate
no one's forcing ye to cast yr lot
keep it safely pocketed & be
wise on the night

best of three use magic to escape
saddle up yr camel & avoid
'fanticide the vale of kings is wide
keep to the path

VII

happy endings suck ye need a hook
catch the next installment buy my plan
watch it buster tropes like these won’t fly
turkeys will roast

specially in the movies money talks
wiggle room for ass men do the twerk
babe cos Weinstein’s watching from his cell
phone called a friend

Adolf's golden bullet trained the dog
playing dead just wait for series ten
superman returns with Nietzsche's ghost
gods never croak

they just fade to great take Cecil B
here’s another twist for y'all to use
lost in a parallel universe
everything goes

switch from good to evil in a blink
Google glass enables ye to Joe
Ninety every situation go
Matrix for keeps

*

boys & girls I hope we’re sitting tight
once upon a curse it's Folkland time
make a wish or flog yr cow the witch
shall see ye now

not up yr nose!

Wednesday, 25 December 2019

Crimbo in Scroogeland

Crimbo in Scroogeland


I

sale of humbug get it while it's fact
free to air on every issue top
terms for sporting butts of jokes well licked
spittle on tap

who'll be next to have their bell ends kicked
sparring partners sought by legal chaps
bloody Corbynism's gone & died
hallelujah

rounded up the readership last week
let ‘em go in Epping forest rode
horse & hounds till Sunday lunch & what
fun we all had

not that Corbyns everywhere don't have
preaching rights to dismal creeds a-hem
sacred texts for England’s donchya know
open for biz

sell us what you got the market tells
good from bad with trickle down on toast
make a bee-line Honey Russian gold
buys any thing
II

let’s define what Corbyn meant at worst
honest peaceful good ideas hope
courage youth & wisdom arm-in-arm
all the above

flaunted openly as if as if
rightly trounced for who can tell the truth
nowadays it’s only fools believe
what a man says

lies have trumped were only fiction trod
onward into battle close the ranks
stop the tide of reason in its tracks
haul up the pumps

hands on deck you fools this ark will float
Jonah’s whale I'd rather go to hell
in a barrel roll the ocean flat
out till no bells

now hear this if anyone of you
was a Corbynista make it plain
or forever hold your tongues dismiss
I'll be below


III

curses where did Corbyn keep his charts
rum no luck the vessel's dry or smoke
coke would be a blessing take a line
Miss Whatsyourname

I remember Winston Churchill well
not at all in fact his finest hours
underground spent plotting Hitler's doom
just like this room

sorry cabin where was I oh yes
seems we’re in a right old bloody mess
thanks to Corbyn's failure fingers go
drumming on desk

switch the channel Moby bloody Dick's
hardly Christmas viewing when's The Speech
time to be decisive take a stand
business is biz

Ma'am forgive me what I uttered then
wasn’t quite exactly on the nail
coffins float I hope so overboard
here's what to say

not Crook-shank

Sunday, 1 December 2019

crocodile gas


I

black Friday


only cognoscenti know what square
windows did for the Comet but as
people on the street look up watch out
few are surprised

who has studied The War of the Worlds
hardly Bible class whereas the film
starring what’s-his-name was not a flop
but it’s blasé

folk just go about their daily lives
no one gives a monkey's any more
seen it all a million times before
bingeing in bed

here's a deal to take the edges off
tablets will be round to match your eyes
gravity keep your feet on the ground
sounds will surround

this for just a tenner on the nose
no subscriptions extra charges one
payment buys a lifetime's guaranteed
re-al-i-ty




II

jurassic talk


razor wire circumcises piles
fifteen storeys high & built to rock
on through earthquakes while their neighbours take
pot bloody luck

dinosaurs were just as proud their lines
stretched a hundred million years before
jabbering with homeys down the banks
stars hit the floor

most of them were buried where they fell
few indeed that scurried off or flew
those that did bore with them all that time
like a capsule

precious dna containing what
conversations eh a Socrates
here a Gloria Stein there who knows
how many wise

pterodactyls took their poetry
seriously or how much the good
old inhabitants of Earth we've plain
misunderstood




III


quick nit fix

stand aside Doctors a surgeon called
Stanley of the Hozzy takes the floor
powdered glass has been ingested fetch
hot water towels

give the bugger room to struggle fools
can't you see when a suicide's been
staged & what’s the pong in here I know
fee fi fo fum

something's been smelling an English man
clear the operating theatre
brought your scalpel Watson hold my cape
opera gloves top

hat & tails haven’t seen the like since
Series Two & quick about it or
else the boys from Scottie Rd will come
skulking indoors

actually the patient's healed himself
put the kettle on I say Nurse Peel
marry me tomorrow would you eh
open & shut




IV

crocodile gas


sleepless nights I've lain & wondered how
Kerouac my hero aged sixteen
in his cups would bang the door & scream
QSTB

QUIT is dubious I don’t recall
words so much as sentiments but stop
isn't friendly advice or mean leave off
QSTB

SCREWING nails the coffin down for sex
done by men to women read this text
photographs are screwed against a wall
QSTB

THE means nothing as in nameless bod
Marilyn's for example whose real
name was Norma losing her I-D
QSTB

BLONDE is beautiful but dumb & how
jealous man who lives with Mum admits
tit head bum those legs would break his neck
QSTB




V

coward's way


that Kashoggi moment when you think
go indoors or stay out on the street
stick yr bonce right in the lion's mouth
see what it’s like

get the heck off & run for yr life
find some hole to crawl in batten down
seven kinds of hatches be no good
they is abroad

keep yr mouth tight shut is what I say
if it kills me makes no sense to write
up the truth the truth ain't worth a dime
better to lie

hell no worse than penning jingle bells
wheels come off the batmobile all right
quiet as a mouse the giant's hall
echoes that much

tip toe down the beanstalk hand in hand
Cinderella's ashes to return
sorry folks I'm leaving on the train
red light turns blue



VI

saved

crusties had us fight for their beliefs
saints in baggy keks & grizzly beards
now we’re dead they'll claim we've gone to hell
heaven as well

can't you tell it isn't very clear
where we are our voices echoing
ear to ear in silent stabs of fear
Mother we call

memory plays tricks on her with us
but by phone telemetry remains
true to sound & vision even when
life is erased

still our numbers circulate because
normal service is resumed in time
lives recycled innit what a peach
science be praised

signing off for now press hash to save
everyone remembers everything
nothing's lost the cloud retains it all
see us again



VII

out of this world

on the hole I see things differently
through the blackest space a prick of stars
silhouettes my hands & feet the suit
keeps nothing out

while I'm working whistle Rocket Man
Major Tom or Fly Me To The Moon
when the sun turns up again I sing
Here Comes The Sun

mooch my merry way around the globe
booties dangling over mother Earth
fairground ride to beat all ragtime band
gathering eggs

fire dragons lay in mushroom clouds
not just an everyday planet must
have some overlap of blue & white
struggling with life

fill my basket then move on the net
widens in & out the ozone weaves
patterns no one understands bar me
perched on the hole

Not laughs & tears.