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 sithee 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
join 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!