Writing 'Writer of Plays, Poetry, Song & Screen'
Here are some observances/thoughts of mine (all are original compositions by Andrew G. Ogleby). I have also linked some of the writting to my YouTube channel, where you can find further work under the name Doug Berry. As well as profiles listed on Write Out Loud Line of Poetry and SoundCloud
If you have any comments on any of the work, I would love to hear from you! Previous Plays (All Performed Live)
November 2020: Room Service (Short - Yet to be Staged)
May 2018: When the Chips are Down (Short) December 2017: Jackie and the Pirates of the Prime Meridian (Pantomime)
July/November 2015: Troubled meets the Troubadour (Short) Screenwriting (Performance) 2020: Check Mates, playing Chuck
2018: Gus Zatoichi scene from Just Drive. A Fox and Chips Production, London First Verse
The first verse on this page is called,
'Less, is More'
The second verse on this page is called...
An Ode
To Our Dearly Departed Friend, Craig
‘Gigs’ Behan (1/4/66
- 31/3/23)
A
Tale of Glorious Mischief ‘n’
Mayhem
The
things I think of, when I think of Gigs...
Hawkwind.
Killing Joke. King Kurt and Sparks
Punk Rock. Reggae Dub and
Rebel Shamrock
Bela
Lugosi blasting out so loud, you
couldn’teven hear
yerselfknock!
Rattus
at The Roundhouse
Dogs down at Walthamstow Track
Snakes and
Spiders that tried to escape, wheneveryou turned
ya
back!
T-shirt. Red jeans. Donkey Jacket.
Bleached blonde hair,
Butter wouldn’t melt. But the
devil-may-care
The gigs. His digs. ‘Stoned to The Bone’ and
taking the piss
Subbuteo. ‘Flick to kick’ and bar-roombrawlchaos!
Trips
away. Holidays. Young Ones going mad down Yarmouth way
Loud
cries of Zim-bab-we!
A carved up caravan and ‘Licky Timmy’ losing his deposit
“Honest
Guv, it wasn’t us. Just can’t think, who would
have done it..?”
Gigs crashing out, during an
unmissable, World Cup semi-final,
Whilst Gazza cried, Gigs
simply slumbered, shut-eyed
Then all being a kip, sleeping out
down the park,
Suddenly being awoken, by a loud bark
“Is
that you Craig? Better get home sharp!”
Getting up early
to go on the milk job, before the heat,
Red tops were best, a
real homogenised treat
Then setting out on a rite-of-passage,
intrepid adventure,
On the Quest for Mushrooms and a magical
return trip, thereafter
Gone fishing and having fun with
friends
With tall tales of who had the biggest, that never
ends!
Then upstairs, in the corner of Woolies
Caff
The endless cup
of tea and smoking our pipes,
To annoy the waitress,just for a laff!
These
were the sort of things we did at weekends
Hanging about down
the park, well after it got dark,
Where visits with the Village,
just added extra spice
And before going home, hoping
the chip shop wasn't
closed,
Cos' Pam’s peas ‘n’ pies,were
really nice!
Big
Goughy landing on Gigs, after both
taking a big fall, from
off a
high pub
wall
Vera,
Kirk
and Lemmy all on
fine form, down
at the Crystal Palace
Bowl
Derek
and Clive, Alfie Noakes
with his
Jokes and getting
The Horn
Whereas
no matter how hard we’d
try, with
Vic ‘n’ Bob, Gigsjust wouldn't
let it lie!
Being
summoned to
attend AC after an
encounter, on the Twenty Three last bus
Where we were badly
ambushed, ending up them taking a few of us
The order of the day
there being, hard exercise and heavy discipline
As you’ll no
doubt know, not
Gigs’
favourite sort ofequation!
‘Six-inches,Raise!’. Came the yell by the Sergeant from hell.
Where lying flat, we had to then raise our feet to meet his
drilled-beat.
With pools of sweat, seeping from our brows,
holding out for an age, Tremblingwith trepidation,
until his next shout…. ‘And, Lower!’ Finally coming to our blessed relief. Until going again, over
and over!
Then the night we went to see Captain
Sensible down at Warwick Arts Centre
After a Damned fine gig, we
took the first bus, to get away thereafter,
Just a short trip, a
few miles away, I mean, what
could go wrong?
Up on top deck, after
much ‘Happy Talk’
and song,
I nudged Gigsy, to enquire, “How we gettin’
along?”
Wiping the now
steamed up window, he then replied with concern
“Don’t know
Ogges? Don’t look much like Hearsal Common…”
To
which the rest of the bus, found uproariously hilarious,
As they
could see, unlike we, just how far we’d actually come
For in
fact, having taken the wrong bus, we’d
ended up in far-flung Leamington!
With
not even a few coppers left, to now
rub together
We then had to try and convince, a lone
taxi driver,
To take us all the way back to Cov, promising him
we wouldn’t do a runner
And that we would pay upon our
arrival, which to his credit, he insanely
did!
And we also kept our
end of the deal, as were just so extremelygrateful
But,
oh
what fun we had!
Just
trying different ways. To make a difference, to thedays...
You’ll all have your own,
But
these are just, a few of the things,
I think of, when I think
of Gigs
Tragically Taken Far Too Soon. My Friend, May You
Now Rest in Peace.
(June 2023 written for the funeral of Craig 'Gigs' Behan)
The Story of Chuck and
Len
Come gather round, and I’ll tell you the tale
Of two lonesome souls, and their need, to prevail
When faced with misfortune, deprivation or jail
A time comes for response, over continual denial
This is The Story of Chuck and Len
Just a coupla regular, middle-aged men
Trying their best to keep-a goin’ on
In a changing world, that’s left them all alone
But the innate need to connect, is as ever strong
As they question, just what’s been going wrong
Where a simple smile or word from anyone,
Would help stop the thoughts that intrude, and can do harm
[Chorus]
Until they, eventually, discover
They share more, than either had known,
Or would have believed, from each other
And now come to see themselves, as long-lost brothers
[Chorus]
So on with the future, and whatever it holds
With renewed optimism and stories untold
Two found-souls, forging an unbreakable bond
Heading out again on that road, before getting old
This is The Story of Chuck and Len
Just a coupla regular, middle-aged men
Trying their best to keep-a goin’ on
In a changing world, that’s left them all alone
This is The Story of
Chuck and Len
Just a coupla regular, middle-aged men
Trying their best to keep-a goin’ on
In a changing world, that’s left them, all alone… (March 2022 written for an upcoming short film YouTube)
Peel-a
Potato Blues
I’m gonna peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
I’m gonna peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
But which way should I go?
Which way should I go?
But which way should I go?
Which way should I go?
Peel Down from the Upside?
Up from the Downside?
In from the Outside?
Out from the Inside?
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
Cuz I just don’t know!?
I’m gonna peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
I’m gonna peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
But which way should I go?
Which way should I go?
But which way should I go?
Which way should I go?
Peel Down from the Upside?
Up from the Downside?
In from the Outside?
Out from the Inside?
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This indecision, I just can’t hide! I’m gonna peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
I’m gonna peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel Down from the Upside?
Up from the Downside?
In from the Outside
Out from the Inside?
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
This choice I can’t decide
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato
Peel-a potato [To Fade]
(February 2022 YouTube)
Lucky
Ladder
Life’s just one long
game, of snakes and ladders
With not enough step-ups, and too many adders
Gotta be careful, not to take the wrong turn
These are the lessons that, need to be learnt
Life’s one long trial of adapt and survival
Where plenty wanna trip you up, and see you fail
Then see you hurtling down that long, one-way slide
From the serpents head, right down to the tip, of its rattling-tail
So I’m gonna find me a Lucky Ladder
Cuz I’ve had enough of, slidin’ down slippery-snakes
Gonna find me a Lucky Ladder
No more noise, that their mocking-hiss makes
Gonna find me a lucky ladder
And stop making, all those same old mistakes
I’m Gonna find me a Lucky Ladder
To lift me right out, from the pitfalls and doubt
Then roll a double-six, and finally put an end to this fix!
Blowing hard, upon a tightly clenched fist
And calling upon, gracious Lady Luck’s kiss
Then soundly shaking and throwing out dice
If get Snake-Eyes, then get to go again twice
But this time, giving all that I’ve got
To escape the dreaded fate, of ending up, right back at the start
[Chorus]
So just gotta keep on-going, and a-looking up
To find Jacob’s Ladder, with my name on top,
But careful of vipers, who still want me to fall,
Cuz this life my friend, can be awful cruel
[Chorus]
Then roll a double-six, to finally put an end to this fix
Then roll a double-six… and finally put an end to this fix
(January 2022 Youtube)
I, Run 2 Function
I Run 2 function. I, Run 2 function
Not to be seen or for external gratification
Not to be fastest or to keep going longest
Nor to wear the latest and display such hubris
Don’t need no T-shirt to show where I pick-up my dirt
I just get myself out there, to do my own run
Without fuss, reward or means of attention
To get my body up and progressively moving
To get my mind working, without prior restriction
So I can then once more, start to again fully function
Then get out of my head, to receive the answers I now find
And reengage with all that’s around, to put perspective on that found
To creatively conjure up new and exciting possibilities previously untold
So afterwards, for the remaining waking hours and sometimes even days
I can then get on with whatever’s required, with a renewed sense of optimism
I Run 2 Function. I, Run 2 Function
I Run 2 Function. I, Run 2 Function
I Run 2 Function. I, Run, 2 Function
(January 2022 YouTube)
Here are some additional original songs from the pantomine 'Jackie & The Pirates of The Prime Meridian' by Andrew G. Ogleby (2017):
Searchin’
for the Edge of Time (Jackie’s Song of Hope)
Why am I here?
And what have I done?
To become this thing,
Simply living and working,
For an impossible sum?
No life. No future
No reason to stay
So as soon as I can,
I’ll be up, on my way…
There has to be someone
Or somewhere out there
That cares and misses me
As one of their own
A dear, not prodigal
Long, lost son…
For there’s only one place to go,
Now that this inquest has begun…
That’s why I’ll
go, searchin’ for the Edge of Time
To seek the answers that I’ll find there
Searchin’ for the Edge of Time
For the reason and the rhyme there
Searchin’ for the Edge of Time
For my home and loving family there
Searchin’ for the Edge of Time
For my destiny [and whatever else] that lies there
Searchin’ for
the Edge of Time…
And just to finally figure out there… ‘What’s it all about, Jackie…?’
If
Only… (Jackie’s Song of Despair)
If only I’d stayed where I was…
If only I’d stuck at my job
To serve and not to be seen
Be grateful for any thought or mention
And not got above my own station
Who was I to think
There was more to life, beyond the brink?
What madness filed my soul,
That the world outside
Was good and whole?
Oh, what a fool I’ve been
Oh, what a fool I’ve been
I’ve gone and ruined everything
If only there was a way
If only I could wish this away
But it’s now too late for me
I have to except this, my found destiny…
If only I’d not left that day
If only I’d not been led astray
If only I didn’t have the notion,
There was somehow, somewhere a place
For me across this wide ocean
If only I’d realise those foolish dreams,
Were not at all as they seemed
If only I could trust in myself
To see clearly through
What is what and who is who Oh, what a fool I’ve been
Oh, what a fool I’ve been
I’ve gone and ruined everything
If only there was a way
If only I could wish this away
But it’s now too late for me
I have to accept this, my new found destiny…
Oh, what a fool I’ve been
Oh, what a fool I’ve been…
(2017 Youtube)
Toughen Up (Principle Girl's Song)
You’ve
gotta toughen up
To reach the top
You’ve gotta pick yourself up
Give it all that you got
You’ve gotta dust yourself down
Get back in your stride
You’ve got nothing to prove
Just get back in the groove
Don’t let anyone get you down
Don’t let anyone push you around
Be proud of who you are
Stand up straight, to reach that highest star
I was like you once myself
Didn’t think I’d be anyone
Just be left upon that shelf
But what I soon found out
That what you give,
Is what you’ll get,
Coming back roundabout
You’ve gotta toughen up
To reach the top
You’ve gotta pick yourself up
Give it all that you got
You’ve gotta dust yourself down
Get back in your stride
You’ve got nothing to prove
Just get back in the groove
So if you listen up to me
You too will surely see
That what I say is right
You can never give up without a fight
Now I know I must confess
That you can’t do this,
Without distress
But if you are brave enough,
To see it through
You’ll find there’s nothing,
Then that you can’t do
You’ve
gotta toughen up
To reach the top
You’ve gotta pick yourself up
Give it all that you got
You’ve gotta dust yourself down
Get back in your stride
You’ve got nothing to prove
Just get back in the groove
You’ve gotta toughen up!
All for One! (Duet between Jackie & Principle Girl)
PG: All for One!
J: And one for All!
PG: If it ain’t open
J: We’ll just kick down the door!
PG: If there’s someone in our way
J: Well, we’ll just politely say
PG: Kindly stand aside sir
PG/J: Or face the price there is to pay!
PG/J: Cuz there’s nothing that we can’t
do
When we really, really, want to
There’s nothing that we can’t achieve
When we really, really, really believe
There’s no ocean that we can’t cross
As no one tells us anything
Cuz we’re now the new boss!
PG: That’s All for One!
J: And one for All!
PG & J: We’ve changed the game
And now play by our own rules!
PG: All for One!
J: And one for All!
PG & J: We’re taking control first
To steer this ship, on our new course!
PG/J: Cuz there’s nothing that we can’t
do
When we really, really, want to
There’s nothing that we can’t achieve
When we really, really, really believe
There’s no ocean that we can’t cross
As no one tells us anything
Cuz we’re now the new boss!
PG: So it’s All for One!
J: And one for All!
PG/J: Whatever lies in front of us you’ll see
We’re now the masters of our own destiny!
PG: All for One!
J: And one for All!
PG/J: Together we’re strong
Divided they fall!
PG/J: Cuz there’s nothing that we can’t
do
When we really, really, want to
There’s nothing that we can’t achieve
When we really, really, really believe
There’s no ocean that we can’t cross
As no one tells us anything
Cuz we’re now the new boss!
All for one, and one for all!
Captain’s Plea (Captain’s Song)
Arrggghh I can change. Change my ways
If you only give me a chance
I’ll make you see,
That crime, no longer pays
And I, now have no need,
For such, villainy
Arrggghh I can change. Change my ways
If you only give me a chance
I’ll make you see,
That a Pirates life,
Of marauding and pillaging
Is now no longer the life for me!
Oh, how nice it would be
To finally leave this hard life at sea,
With all its hostility
And with no one really liking me [sob]
Oh, how nice it would be,
To finally find a place for me
And rest my weary bones
Somewhere, that I, call home
Arrggghh So I can change. Change my ways
If you only give me a chance
I’ll make you see,
That I’ve, now had enough
Of this swashbuckling sea
And the land’s now, firmly the place for me!
Arrggghh I can change. Change my ways
If you only give me a chance
I’ll make you see,
That it’s now time for a little romance for me,
To settle down, and who knows
Perhaps start my own family
Oh, how
nice it would be
To finally leave this hard life at sea,
With all its hostility
And with no one really liking me [sob]
Oh, how nice it would be,
To finally find a place for me
And rest my weary bones
Somewhere, that I, call home
With no more ‘Arrrrrrggghss’ or shouting and being nasty, or hobbling around with
a damn bird on my shoulder… No more adventures… or treasure. Er!
Oh, how nice it would be
To finally leave this hard life at sea,
With all its hostility
And with no one really liking me [sob]
Oh, how nice it would be,
To finally find a place for me
And rest my weary bones
Somewhere, that I, call home
Oh, I can change!
(2017 YouTube)
We Liked Him Really (Step Mother
& Ugly Sisters Song)
US: We liked him really
SM: I loved him dearly
All: Oh, how we miss you, Jackie…
US: But you were the one, who took on this poor orphan, for us
to then abuse, and to the outside world exclude!
SM: Well if I hadn’t, it would surely have been considered in certain circles
quite rude!
SM: And where would he be, if I hadn’t saved him from such a cruel sea?
US: No doubt in a much better place, and now sleeping, quite peacefully!
US: Oh, we liked him
really
SM: I loved him dearly
All: Oh, how we miss you, Jackie…
US: And it was you, who worked him too hard
SM: Well, it was good for him, kept him nice and trim
SM: So what about you, who had him running around day and night, looking after
all your every unladylike needs
US: Excuse us please! That’s just hard cheese! It was all part of his job
description. For which, we never heard him quibble or make mention [Look at
each other and shake heads]
US: Oh, we liked him
really
SM: I loved him dearly
All: Oh, how we miss you, Jackie…
US: So what about you, who glued his butt to the loo
SM: Well it wasn’t intentional, just accidental! The top came off after quite a
severe cough. And it went everywhere, but there must have been some left, that just
hadn’t been rubbed off…
SM: But it was you two, who actually put his head down the lavatory
US: Yes, but only so he could see, if he’d now then, cleaned it all off,
properly!
US: Oh, we liked him really
SM: I loved him dearly
All: Oh, how we miss you, Jackie…
All: Oh, how we miss you
Jackie. We’re now on our knees. Begging you to find it in your heart, to forgive
us please…
US: We liked him really
SM: I loved him dearly
All: Oh, how we miss you, Jackie…
All: Oh, how we miss you,
Jackie…
Utopia (Island
Song with Audience)
In Utopia, found
far flung out to sea
East of Ethiopia and the Great Zambezi
In Utopia, South of Catford and Kathmandu,
Where the streets are paved,
With the people’s gold,
Instead of damn Doggy-do-do!
In Utopia, everyone lives,
In multi-cultural harmony
No matter who they be,
And are not judged by their
Colour, Creed or Ethnicity
In Utopia, everybody’s free
To live and get along happily,
And lead the life they wish,
In a kind and caring community
In Utopia, found far flung out to sea
East of Ethiopia and the Great Zambezi
In Utopia, South of Catford and Kathmandu,
Where the streets are paved,
With the people’s gold,
Instead of damn Doggy-do-do!
In Utopia, everything is fair,
In an equal and just society
So no one wants for nothing,
And greed and war have no place to be
In Utopia, where everyone,
Works to help each other
Respecting the land and sea
Where arts, music and creativity
Are the only real trading currency
In Utopia,
found far flung out to sea
East of Ethiopia and the Great Zambezi
In Utopia, South of Catford and Kathmandu,
Where the streets are paved,
With the people’s gold,
Instead of damn Doggy-do-do!
In Utopia,
found far flung out to sea
East of Ethiopia and the Great Zambezi
In Utopia, South of Catford and Kathmandu,
Where the streets are paved,
With the people’s gold,
Instead of damn Doggy-do-do!
In Utopia, down at
the Edge of Time
Where as you can clearly see
It is really the only real place to be!
(2017 YouTube)
The Price We Pay
Passing, the price we pay for being
All the waking hours, spent taking and giving,
Loving, hating, downbeat or merry making
Ultimately, ending with those been touched,
Grieving, heart-broken and forever left asking
Alas, this is just another cruel, universal truth,
As ancient as dear Old Father Time himself
Having been handed down, throughout the ages
With what goes up, must come back down again
And where no one gets to escape, to tell their final tale
But what does remain, goes ever onward to resound
As the ripples of awareness, travel outward unbound
Forming a constant connection, to re-immerse within,
Whenever it should so be chosen, to relive, replenish,
And share, this eternally precious, life-affirming source
'Preserve your memories. They're all that's left you'
(September 2021)
An Unexpected Garden Guest
Outside, I spied in wonder,
An enormous Elephant Hawk-Moth Caterpillar,
As it writhed up beside me one day,
Just in time to take its breakfast order
With his trunk out in front, and a large dark body,
The full-length, of my
largest forefinger,
Leaving me to linger, at the sight of such an affront,
Upon my unsuspecting
veranda
“So what would you like, for your first bite,
To break your fast?” I asked,
“The full works, cereal or just some tea and toast?”
“Oh, nothing like that”, was his response,
“Just a munch and a mulch on your
finest,
Freshly cut, fuchsia leaves please”
He then wriggled up onto my shoe,
And I let him on through,
To take a seat at
the table so set
And then went off to fetch,
From the plant out front,
Leaves all nice and fresh,
As was his request
Where upon my return ,
I was to then learn,
He’d already started to turn,
So upon a bed of soft fuchsia,
I took him and left him to lay
Until one day, very much like today,
I was to discover, from out of under his
cover,
He’d gotten up and gone away, leaving me to pray,
“I do so hope he will return
some day”
Many days then passed, and memories slowly turned to dust,
Until when sat outside, upon one warm summers night,
I saw by the glare of the full-moon’s, beams of light
A resplendent, giant, Elephant Hawk-Moth in flight,
Fluttering high up above, and laughing out loud
So I asked, having been taken quite confound,
“What’s
the cause of such jollity untold?”
Where upon, it then did unfold,
As he replied loud and bold,
“Well, never in my wildest dreams,
Did I think I’d end up like this.
I always thought, I was just destined to become,
A replacement moustache,
For the better lookin’ by far,
Mr Graham Souness!”
(September 2021 YouTube)
The Day Rob Led Us
Amassed some
30 strong, upon the far side of The River
At a hostelry, with King Richard, one generous provider
All preparing or basking, in the glorious weather
A Merry Band, who upon command,
Then rose as one, and gave forth a charge,
To set out upon, their driven quest
To find the land, long spoken of,
With the finest fare, and where the amber-liquor, just keeps-on flowing!
The Day Rob Led Us to his Promised Land
We all walked off, hand in hand
With a skip in our stride and eyes bleary wide
We all went over to the other side
Like a Pied Piper leading his Merry Band
Off to see what manna, was to be found
Having untold adventure upon the way
But alas, not quite the plain sailing, he had planned
With a
fair wind on our backs, we all soon made tracks
Down to the banks, of the dirty old, high-tide Thames
But from here would be the start, of when some, lost heart
And others would yearn, for what had been left, far behind
But there was now no going back, with Rob heading up the pack
Leading us ever on through a treacherous, tunnel-crossing
Whence out upon the other side, the dishevelled, grim Pilgrims,
Now had their Exodus dreams, seem as tattered as their clothing
[Chorus]
With
murmurings of dissent, now rising through the ranks
And the smell of mutiny, hanging heavy in the air
Raising the question, was he still gonna achieve his mission?
Till to break this impasse, was heard a loud cry of despair
With the pressure ever mounting, and sun beating down upon,
Rob showed no sign of slowing, but just kept on a-going
Strong in his resolve, we’d soon find, blessed relief
So the multitude, just had to keep a-hold, of this belief
[Chorus]
Until eventually,
as if from out of nowhere,
Great shouts of, ‘By George it’s here!’ Ring out to fill the air
And where the revellers, at long last,
Found much sustenance, and sanctuary,
To spend, Becca’s celebratory night,
Regaled with music, dance and cheery company
But no one will ever forget,
Their first and last, fateful step
Out upon this journey, of soul-searching discovery
Now forged deep within the annals, of folklore history,
Where the one out in front, delivered upon his promise,
Having led the many to go forth, and finally, to Make Merry
The Day Rob Led Us to his Promised Land
We all walked off, hand in hand
With a skip in our stride and eyes bleary wide
We all went over to the other side
Like a Pied Piper leading his Merry Band
Off to see what manna, was to be found
Having untold adventure upon the way
But alas, not quite the plain sailing, he had planned
Like a Pied Piper leading his
Merry Band
Off to see what manna, was to be found
Having untold adventure upon the way
But alas, not quite the plain sailing, he had planned
But alas, not quite the plain sailing, he had planned…
(June 2021 YouTube) Gnawing Agitation Since the day that
virus came, things here, just ain’t been the same
And who knows, if they will ever be so again?
The World’s in such a mess, largely of our-own, ‘couldn’t care less’
And there’s something long-since, now gotta hold of my psyche
Leaving me emotionally on edge, and physically shaky,
Don’t know what it is, but I’ll see if can explain to you, lyrically...
Gotta Gnawing Agitation, deep down in my bones
No matter what I do, it just won’t leave me alone
Gotta constant Gnawing Agitation, that I can’t keep at bay,
No matter what I say, this thing just won’t go away
Yeah, gotta Gnawing Agitation, tremblin’ right under my skin
Don’t know how long now, don’t know where to begin?
There was a time, when I could quench
this thirst,
There was a time, way back when,
This sort of thing, wasn’t at all a-troublin’
But now with no real-outlet, to scratch that itch
Life my
friend, has become a real, son of a bitch!
Gotta Gnawing Agitation, been stuck with it, all night and all day!
A restless unease, just wish this thing,
Would get right-up, and leave today!
Yeah, gotta Gnawing Agitation, that don’t give me no peace
Can somebody please help me, get some release?
This ain’t the sort of thing, I wanna be taking, to the Police!
Don’t know how long, I can keep a-going
this way?
Don’t know how long, this feeling with me, will stay?
All I do know, it keeps a-drivin’ me on,
To find some blessed relief,
From this lowdown, good-for-nothing, hell-bent, disheveling thief
Gotta full-blown Agitation,
constantly Gnawing away,
Because things are just not right, with us all living this way
Gotta Gnawing Agitation, from the back of my mind to the depths of my soul
Yeah I tell you, this goddamn Gnawing Agitation, just ain’t no Rock in Roll!
No this Gnawing Agitation, ain’t no Rock in Roll!
It just ain’t no Rock in Roll!
No, ain’t no Rock in Roll!
It just ain’t no Rock in Roll!
No, ain’t no Rock in Roll!
It just ain’t no Rock in Roll!
No, ain’t no Rock in Roll!
It just ain’t no Rock in Roll!
Ain’t no Rock in Roll! [To Fade]
(January 2021 YouTube)
When The Fall-Out Settles
When
the fall-out
settles
Who will want to remember
All the Old Battles
Who will want to remember,
All the
Glorious wins and scores,
The crushing defeats
and despairing draws? When the fall-out settles Who will want to remember, the exact details Of all, that was said and done, The wasted time, that’s gone,
And remain consumed, by that yet to
come?
When the fall-out settles
Who will want to remember, the
reason,
For holding all those silly, lapsed grudges
And the origin, for inflamed
retaliation,
Behind all the futile,
pushing
and shoving?
When the fall-out settles
What will be remembered, with want,
Is all that actually,
really mattered
Time spent doing things, well-meant,
With others and in places, worth-knowing
Engaged in the
full-moment
Giving instead of taking
Listening instead of
talking
Being instead of wanting
When the fall-out, finally settles,
Let’s just hope, it’s not all too late… (November 2020 YouTube)
I
Hate the Sound of Circular Saws
I hate the sound of circular saws
Especially in the morning (without warning)
I don’t need the noises of destruction
When there’s something to do
Oh something to do, sound of circular saws! I hate the sound of circular saws
Going deep into the night
I hate the sound of its sharp-screeching
Reverberating all around Oh all around, sound of circular saws
Something to do, sound of circular saws [Break] Oh all around, sound of circular saws
Something to do, sound of circular saws
Such a drag, sound of circular saws
I hate the sound of circular saws
Going deep into the night
I hate the work they can do Oh, give
it a rest
Oh, give
it a rest Sound of
circular saws All
around, sound of circular saws
Something
to do, sound
of circular saws
Circular saws, sound of circular saws Sound of
circular saws Sound of
circular saws Sound of
circular saws Sound of
circular saws Sound of
circular saws Sound of
circular saws
(September 2020: based on and to the tune of Nick
Lowe’s 'I Love The Sound of Breaking Glass')
Lowdown Lockdown Blues
I’ve got those
Lowdown Lockdown Blues
And I don’t know what to do,
Yeah, those Lowdown Lockdown Blues
Keep hearing nothing, but bad news
Lowdown Lockdown Blues
If this thing don’t kill me, my own company will
Been past 3 months, since I had myself a draft beer
Yeah, been past 3 months, since I last had me some cheer
Don’t know when I’ll get back there again,
Hope it’ll be before the end, of this Godforsaken, hell-hole of a year?
[Chorus]
Perhaps this is just the way, the world’s now gonna be?
Yeah, perhaps this is just the way, life’s now turning out for me?
Don’t know how much more of this I can take,
Hope there’s gonna be some deliverance, to set this whole God-damn place free
[Chorus]
But gotta keep-on goin’ day by day, tryin’ to find me another way
Yeah, gotta keep-on goin’ day by day, until something comes my way
So I’ll just keep-on a-searchin’ and a-striving,
Until that sweet-dream of tomorrow, becomes my new reality today
I’ve got those Lowdown Lockdown Blues
And I don’t know what to do
Yeah, those Lowdown Lockdown Blues
Keep hearing nothing, but bad news
Lowdown Lockdown Blues
If this thing don’t kill me, my own company will
I said, if this thing don’t kill me, my own company will
I said, if this thing don’t kill me, my own company, surely will
(June 2020 YouTube)
Don't Fuck With Nature
From out of the East came this viral beast
Leaving vulnerable and well, both deceased
Spread by social contact and poor hygiene
But what caused this thing was far more obscene
Don’t
Fuck With Nature
Cause Right On Yer Ass It’s Gonna Bite Ya
Don’t
Fuck With Nature
Not Pangolin, Snake, Bat nor Alligator
Don’t Fuck With Nature
Kept In Appalling Conditions Disturbing The Natural Order
Don’t
Fuck With Nature
Ebola, MERS, SARS, VCJD, Swine and Bird Flu, Now It’s Corona
Don’t
Fuck With Nature
Heed This Warning Now, Else Face Complete Disaster
And
now the whole-wide world it is becoming infected
What started on one-side soon rapidly spread undetected
Made worse where health-services having been so neglected
But the actual cause is still one thing that isn’t being subjected
[Chorus]
So the world’s now changed, can’t go back there again
Lessons must be learnt to prevent another happening
A new world order, to also take away our planet’s pain
If not, this thing’s gonna blow-up once more my friend
[Chorus to fade] (March 2020)
The
Greatest Sadness A life now gone, forever no more
Taken by the person on whom,
It was so, preciously bestowed upon
The reason never understood,
Unless having there once stood At first, the mind-numbing, utter shock
Then endless, unanswerable questions
The grave sense of confusion, guilt and anger,
A whole wrath of conflicting, unhelpful emotions,
To this, the saddest of all preventable actions
A bitter reflection of an out of touch, uncaring society
A hungrily hounding, headlining, money driven economy
Having higher priorities over the well-being of others you see
Showing wilful neglect, leading to this final end, so untimely
Whose only ever half-hearted response is to,
Numb and dumb down any despairing reaction
Leading to greater hopelessness and increased isolation
No longer seeing any way out or where to fast forward
Until, finally reduced to taking the ultimate decision
To leave, without knowing any worthy remaining reason
A life now gone, never to return
Never to reach its natural conclusion
Without ever knowing its full potential
And for which, we shall all forever mourn
Be Kind (February 2020)
Some Life Affirming Moment
Amidst the monotonous, suffocating, monochrome
greys and browns
A sudden sighting of a sharp, piercing shape of other confounds,
Immediately reigniting past, pastoral, long-forgotten scenes
Where absolutely nothing else now matters, but to be lost in this dream
Slowly and unsurely, a bloody, muddy, sinewy bone-shaking hand,
Reaches out to the mesmerisingly floral, broken, barbed-briar found
Tenderly pulling it towards, a since chronically corrupted, nasal-olfactory
Whose destroyed senses, have been declared missing and non-functionary
But now, from the deepest recesses, of some disused, subterranean cavern
The inhalation of such an intoxicating, heavenly-sent, scent stream
Causes rushing explosions, of heady revitalised, thalamic dancing themes
Instantly transporting and transfixing, to far-off, joyous transcendental
realms
Only to be then, so cruelly crushed and sent crashing back down again
Reengaging with the stark, brutal reality of scenes and sounds all ‘round
But oh, to have at least been there, among the ecstasy of blissful neglect!
Even if only, for just a fraction of one, time-elapsed, life affirming moment
(February 2020)
Blessed Are The
Sinners Blessed are the multitude
of Sinners, passing-by
Blessed are the multitude, with placards risen-high
Blessed are the multitude, striding and standing tall
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All Blessed are the triers and failers, having gone astray, to
find a way
Blessed are the fallen seekers, who’s eyes burned, for having turned
Blessed are those who do, because it’s never heard, what they have to say
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All Blessed are the multitude
of Sinners, passing-by
Blessed are the multitude, with placards risen-high
Blessed are the multitude, striding and standing tall
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All Blessed is the hapless child, punished for not, having yet
learned
Blessed is the brave new mum, who stole bread, to feed her young
Blessed is the broken man, who lost the lot, for having yearned
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All
Blessed are the multitude
of Sinners, passing-by
Blessed are the multitude, with placards risen-high
Blessed are the multitude, striding and standing tall
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All
Blessed are those, carrying the guilt, of all the years, long-gone
Blessed are those, that live in fear, of the time, that's yet to come
Blessed are those, made-up of the failing, flesh and bone, of human pride
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All
Blessed
are the multitude of Sinners, passing-by
Blessed are the multitude, with placards risen-high
Blessed are the multitude, amongst them you and I
Seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All
Just seeking Peace and Forgiveness for us All
(Infused, October 2019)
Hashbrown Town
I took a
trip down Hashbrown Town,
To take a look around, and found,
Everything there, was textured-triangle
With angles rounded, and not at all Square
Unlike Toblerone Town, where everything is,
Monochrome mocha, with sides geometrically true
T'was more akin to deep-down, Old Dorito City way
Having uneven slopes, covered in a crispy-golden hue
Milling
around, downtown Hashbrown Town,
Everyone gave off a tanning-parlour, reflective glow
And so wore wrap-around shades, as well as hard-hats,
Should any flaky masonry, fall off on those mingling below
I quite
liked my visit to Hashbrown Town
And may someday soon, go back again to take that ride
For apart, from the well weathered-worn exterior
They’re all really, quite soft-centred there inside (Silly Season, 2019)
On Such a So-So Day
I rose, neither late nor early
Ate porridge, neither watery nor milky
Drank coffee, neither hot nor cold
On this, such a so-so day
The weather outside, was neither bright nor dreary
Passing traffic, neither light nor heavy
Faces on the people, neither down nor cheery
On this, such a so-so day
The day passed, neither eventful nor without comment
Night fell, neither noisily nor silent
Sleep came, neither peaceful nor turbulent
On this, such a bog standard
Neither here nor there,
Fair to middling,
Run of the mill,
So So Day
(1st Day of August, 2019)
Fit for the Factory Floor (1983 Visit to the Careers Advisor)
So what can I be, a famous footballer, singer
in a band or appear in film or on T.V?
[Knock.
Knock]
Come in Sonny,
we won’t waste your time,
I can clearly see, there’s only one place for someone like you to be!
Oh yes, my thoughts exactly!
Yes, the
Factory Floor that’s where, operating industrial machinery!
The Factory Floor???
Yes, Fit
for the Factory Floor you are
Fit for the Factory Floor, you’ll see
Fit for the Factory Floor, that’s all you’ll ever be!
Oh, but I’m not sure that’s what I want to do?
And would like to hear other suggested ideas, with avenues to explore
Well, that’s not my job. I just say what I see.
And all I can say is, this is now the path for you Sonny!
As, Fit for
the Factory Floor you are
Fit for the Factory Floor, you’ll see
Fit for the Factory Floor, that’s all you’ll ever be!
But I want to do more with my life than that.
I don’t know what exactly, I thought that’s what I’m here today for?
Well you
see, this here place Coventry is an Engineering City,
And sweat, suds and swarf are what keep in motion its industry
So just be grateful, shape up and grab any opportunity!
With 3 Million unemployed, there are not many jobs around you see
Oh, but...
Now that there’s the door, if you would so kindly please leave,
I wish you all the very best, but sorry can’t chat any longer,
As I’ve still got many more others, like you to see
So I am to be scrap-heaped at sixteen, with my whole
life in front of me?
I haven’t even started and you haven’t yet looked at my C.V!
I don’t need to, I’ve seen it all before
Now come on Sonny and I promise,
In time, you’ll actually laugh aloud and be thanking me!
As, Fit for
the Factory Floor you are
Fit for the Factory Floor, you’ll see
Fit for the Factory Floor, that’s all you’ll ever be!
Fit for the
Factory Floor, you are
Fit for the Factory Floor, you’ll see
Fit for the Factory Floor, that’s all you’ll ever be! (Reflection and Inspiration, July 2019)
Upon A Distant Shore Waves Crash Cleanly
Sun Shines Brightly
Birds Sing Beautifully
Breeze Blows Gently
Fruit Tastes Sweetly
Water Cleanses Deeply
Joy Spreads Abundantly
Time Flies Slowly
Life Is Heavenly
Now Here If But Only
(Musings, July 2019)
I’m Not Gonna
I’m Not Gonna, be
the next Heavyweight Champion of the World
I’m Not Gonna, play in the following, football World Cup Final and Score
I’m Not Gonna, be the fastest, strongest or go furthest anytime soon
I’m Not Gonna, get a billion likes for something, I charitably choose to endorse
I’m Not Gonna, receive the Best Acting Oscar Award, at no Star Spangled ceremony
I’m Not Gonna, be the latest celebrity pinup, posterboy icon to be adored
I’m Not Gonna, live in a multi-storied mansion, somewhere in the sun
I’m Not Gonna, make the owning of millions, my nice tidy sum
I’m Not Gonna, land on Mars or any other planet in our Solar System
I’m Not Gonna, find a cure for the common cold or famine and greed
I’m Not Gonna, be the one to prevent climate change and get all the plastic out
of the seas
I’m Not Gonna, be crowned King, Queen, P.M, President or Dictator Supreme
I’m Not Gonna, be anointed High Priest or play any part in the Second Coming
I’m Not Gonna, be Leader of the Live Revolution, that will not be social-media screened
I’m Not Gonna, halt all the bombings, wars and the para-military scene
I’m Not Gonna, stop all the hatred and divisive, divisionary scorn
I’m Not Gonna, prevent all cruelty, suffering and enforced manipulation
I’m Not Gonna, end Homelessness and every, Mental Health problem
I’m Not Gonna, bring Peace and Prosperity, to all those that are newly born
I’m Not Gonna, solve all of the planet's, and its every inhabitant's needs
I’m Not Gonna, be able to do all these things and much more…
But of one thing, which I’m gonna be sure,
Is that I won’t be getting out of here alive,
And until then, I’ll do my Goddamn Best, to Help us Survive! (February 2019) A Timeless Time
Capturing time, of a scene n’er more to pass
Capturing time and essence, of something stood-stopping
Capturing time, with everything uniquely positioned,
For the now, instantly becoming the then
Never to be aligned, in the same stratosphere again The same passing, the same meaning
The same conditions, the exact same configurations,
The same lighting, the same directing,
The same aging and intentions given
That frozen in time, of a moment that once happened
But not anymore, to be exactly so captured
A snap-shot, showing what was what,
At that specific timeless, point and dot
To then be viewed, through different hues
With a multitude, of different views
Making out what it was, that was supposedly mentioned
The eternal encapsulation, that can’t be grasped
Only mere speculation, as to what was its actual intention
And something so seemingly, humdrum and mortally mundane
Only once spared a glance, amongst those other glittery, fancy-pants
In time, may be seen to say more, than a whole volume of self-obsessional lure,
As a picture showing the then truth, of the then situation
At that precise moment in time, for whatever reason
Will now go down in the annals, as the only visible record,
Of said incident ever occurring, now there for as long as its self is (Oct 2018) Madame Choly
A sudden glimpse, through darkened streets at night
Cloak draped, flowing behind as she glides on by
Shadowed against the half-lit, monochrome back drop
The Lady, with no destination nor any possible time to spare
Walking ever on, lost in her own never-ending despair Her expression vacant, as if other-worldly here
Eyes staring blankly, to some far-off, distant place
Skin serenely flawless, on her purely driven face
Leaving the bereft beholder, wanting to know,
What really lies within, that surfaces so without?
Madame Choly, is she unblemishedly Holy?
Or possessed, by a fallen heavenly body?
Has her soul been betrayed, by one who strayed?
Or just, smitten and struck by the malady,
That is the loneliest, of afflicted humours earthly? The Lady of vast mystery, intrigue and beguiling artistry
Always searching, for that which she is unknowingly yearning
Quietly, effortlessly, ethereal, almost breathlessly,
Off to where, we will never know nor fully understand,
Only left mortally here to gasp, stare and stand, spellbound (Oct 2018) Mojo Blues
My Mojo’s
left me
Just went up, and out one day
My Mojo’s left me
Just got up, and walked right out that way
Now I’m left here all alone
Not knowing whether, I should go or stay? If you ever lose, your Mojo,
This is what’ll, come of you
If you ever lose, your Mojo,
You’ll find it hard, to pull on through
So make sure, you look after it properly,
And it’ll then, take good care of you! My Mojo’s
left me
Wish it would, come back today
My Mojo’s left me
Without it, I just can’t function, no way!
What’s to get out of bed for?
So within it, I’ll just lay! [Chorus] My Mojo’s
left me
Wish it would return, right away
My Mojo’s left me
If you see it, please send back, my way
Ain’t no reason, for it to have left,
Perhaps I neglected it, for it to stay? [Chorus] So make sure, you look after it properly,
And it’ll then, take good care of you! So make sure you look after it properly,
And it’ll then, take good care of you! So make sure you look after it properly,
And it’ll then, take good care of you! (Oct 2018) Bottom Feeder Blues
I’m a
Bottom Feeder Baby!
Scooping up your, odds n ends
I’m a Bottom Feeder Baby!
Just grateful, for whatever anyone sends
Found down, the arse-end of the food chain
Regurgitation’s my middle name! So don’t
feel bad, if you’ve indulged too much
No don’t feel bad, if your conscience, is way out of touch
Just throw your hard-earned waste away,
It’ll get down to me one day! [Chorus] If you’re
looking for someone to blame,
Send it down, addressed to the same name
If you want to cast-away, your cast-offs today
Right down here with me, they’ll then gladly stay! [Chorus] I dine
at the lower end of the town,
Artisan, it surely ain’t!
I teach myself the ways of the world
Privileged and pampered, just ain’t my bent
I accept myself for who and what I am
Looks and connections, don’t pay my rent! [Chorus] And if
an opportunity, should come a-knocking
Just toss it down here, right away
If there’s anything, that I can do
Don’t worry that it’ll cause a scramble, and one hullabaloo! [Chorus]
(Oct 2018)
Dog-Gone
Day (part 1)
Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day
What did I do, last week?
What did I do, yesterday?
I’m sure, there was something, I wanted to do?
I’m sure, there was something, I wanted to say? Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day I’m sure, there must be something, I should be
doing?
I’m sure, there is somewhere, I should be going?
I’m sure, there is something, I should be knowing?
If only this, would now all be bestowing… Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day Memories are fraught, with these frantic things
No clear transcription, of all transactions, said and done
No full-photographic footage, of every nuanced, evaluated sum
No recorded, she said, he did, they were with, what, who and why they may
Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day
Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day But tomorrow, it will all be, alright
again!
Tomorrow, you'll see, I’ll be as right as rain again!
Tomorrow, it’ll all be, crystal clear again!
So just have to wait till then, to get back on my feet again! Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day Tinnit-usss (part 2) Whoosh, Whoosh, Ringing, Singing, Screeching, Shrilling, Rushing, Whooshing, Whoosh
Can’t tune in properly, always white-noise interference,
From some far-off, intergalactic exploding radio-station
Never managing to re-tune, properly
Never managing to find any-tune, logically
Never hearing the full-chorus, with any clarity
All this Silence is resoundingly Deafening for me! At night, under-cover, the bombardment is most
prominent
Man, this is a thing close to torture!
Like the sound of out-of-tune violin strings,
Constantly being screeched, against the side, of an old, rusty tin-can When turbulence is up, interference levels, trebles,
Like calling time, on a Pennsylvanian Nursery Rhyme
That has no warp or weft left to reside Statement! Statement! Does this even measure up, to the excruciating
extraction, of thoughts and minds?
I come here often, but this answer I can never find
The blessed relief of oral consumption
Marking the defining separation, of tone and tempo Tinnit-me. Tinnit-you. Tinnit-usss
Tinnit-me. Tinnit-you. Tinnit-usss
Back out, amongst the blast-fanfare, of a constant, cochlea cacophony,
Bizarre beats of jagged, avent-guard, freestyle Acid-Jazz, played out on a G-String
vibrato
Could I even consider this, if not for this out of tune temporal tirade? Dogs Howling. Snakes Hissing. Pigs Grunting. Owls
Hooting. Parakeets screeching
All along the banks of the Great Hudson River,
As it crashes and cascades, on towards the 5th of November At the end of this nadir, cacophonous hour,
Transcendence finally takes over
Until the whistle and klaxon, once more resound Atack! Atack! And send you scurrying for shelter
again, along that endless-road, Heading somewhere southbound, without even a dime to call a friend
Tinnit-me. Tinnit-you. Tinnit-usss Tinnit-me. Tinnit-you. Tinnit-usss Tinnit-me. Tinnit-you. Tinnit-usss My-Graine (part 3) Warning! Warning! Take Advisory Action! Warning!
Warning! Take Advisory Action!
A sudden recognition. A sudden recollection, of the well-trodden, coming combat-situation Warning! Warning! Take Advisory Action! Warning!
Warning! Take Advisory Action!
All change on the visual front Sir! Focus deconstruction. Eyes, Nose and Mouth, all now out of Optical Alignment! Migraine Attack! Migraine Attack! Take cover! Here comes the snaking, zig-zagging
flash, of piercing ocular scotoma! Boom! Stay Calm Under Attack! At All Costs, Stay Calm
Under Attack! When able to do so, Get Out of the Firing Line! Get
Out of the Firing Line! Take cover in the nearest darkened out bunker. Take
all necessary, medicinal measures and means. Take all necessary, medicinal
measures and means Migraine Attack! Migraine Attack! Vile, debilitating nausea may now take over Do Not Resist! Be sick! I Repeat, Do Not Resist! Be sick! Avoid Noise at All Costs! Avoid Noise at All Costs! If then subject to a horrific, sonic-exploding,
throbbing, pulsating, head-attack Do Not Panic! I Repeat Do Not Panic! Keep hold of your senses. At All Costs. Keep
hold of ALL your senses! Vomit Whenever Possible. Do Not Hold Back! Vomit Whenever Possible. Do Not Aggravate. Do Not Seek Light. I Repeat, Do
Not Aggravate! Do Not Seek Light! Migraine Attack! Migraine Attack! Hold on Tight. Avoid All Noise and Light!
Hold on Tight. Avoid All Noise and Light! I Repeat, Avoid All Noise and Light. Be Patient and it will all eventually pass. Be
Patient. It Will All Eventually Pass… Sir! The Pathogenic Contamination has now been Extricated. ALL CLEAR! ALL CLEAR! I Repeat, The Pathogenic Contamination has now been Extricated!
You May Now Proceed With Caution You May Now Proceed With Caution My-Graine, Your-Graine, Our-Graine
My-Graine, Your-Graine, Our-Graine My-Graine, Your-Graine, Our-Graine
Dog-Gone
Day (Reprise)
Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day
Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day
Another Dog-End, of another Dog-Gone Day
Hoooooowwwwwwwlllllllll….. (Oct 2018 - to be performed as one movement with musical accompaniment)
Can
I Have My Fuck Back Please?
Can I have my fuck back please?
It’s gone over your fence, without causing any offence,
And is now nestled, nice and cosily up in your trees
Can I have my fuck back please?
I am really so sorry, I don’t know how it happened
And I’ll make quite sure, it won’t ever do so again
Can I have my fuck back please?
For I am now, so very lost without it,
With my life no longer expressing, what it was once meant to mean Can I have my fuck back please?
Because the words’ use, has since become abhorrent,
And the wee-rascal, really doesn’t warrant such derogatory,
Rending it no longer inflammatory, from what it was once so proud to be
Something ironically, I now find quite insulting to me Can I have my fuck back please?
You see, it’s now used in such a glib, surly, offhand way,
By those, who really have nothing more worthy to say
Having been reduced, to a mere sentence filler,
With pronunciation in a bored, mealy-mouthed, casually hackneyed way
Gentrified, pacified, nullified, desensitised and sanitised
Whereas others, like me, still longingly look back with fondness,
And fits of panging, punkful nostalgia
On those past glorious, honest, filthful, non-P.C Halcyon days Can I have my fuck back please?
As there was a time, when to use it was… Exciting, daring, like committing a crime It really meant something, to express, With such succinct, sincere sentiment To gladly shock, with scandal and awe, And mock the deserving, who didn’t have a clue, Until toward their direction, it came a-hurtling to Can I have my fuck back please?
I’ll do my very best to nurture and protect it, to only use when absolutely necessary
And teach all new-comers, the wonderful ways of the words world
How to properly abuse, amuse and give proper emphasis to what you want to say
And in so doing, promise from this day forth, from my vocabulary it will no
longer stray So can I now have my fuck back please?
Please. Please. What do you say?
No???
Yoou Bastaard!!! (October 2018) This Hierarchy Malarkey!
Top Down. Bottom Up! (Backing Vocals)
So where d’you lie?
So, how’s your luck?
Top Down. Bottom Up! (Backing Vocals)
Stuck bottom, of the heap?
Or a mile, top of the pile? Top Down. Bottom Up! (Backing Vocals)
Knowing your place?
Or looking, down your face? Top Down. Bottom Up! (Backing Vocals)
Waiting in line
Or passing, straight-on through?
Caste aside from birth,
Never seeing your true worth
Untouchable, unlovable, instantly forgettable
Or dinning at the top-table,
Having all you ever want, not need
With an ever expanding, girth from greed! This
Hierarchy Malarkey!
This Hierarchy Malarkey! [Chorus]
In such a society, not given opportunity
And with no humility, it’s just organised anarchy!
Any structure, where the privileged point of the pyramid prosper
For no reason, other than from a position of exclusive collusion!
Whilst the baseline continue to suffer at the hands of,
Nepotism, elitism, cronyism, race and sexism from a corrupt, top-wealth heavy
system!
This Hierarchy Malarkey!
This Hierarchy Malarkey! [Chorus] Although
those at the bottom are stronger, cause they bear the brunt of the weight they
are under
Whereas the morally weak top 1-percent, own more than the rest of us put
together
Gained from being mean at others expense,
Gained from taking advantage of others difference
With no wealth distribution, just second-class service for those born into
segregation and alienation. And all the rest in-between, making this whole skewed
system, so obscene! This Hierarchy Malarkey!
This Hierarchy Malarkey! [Chorus]? We don’t
want no more of, This Hierarchy Malarkey!
No don’t want no more of, This Hierarchy Malarkey!
Don’t want no more of this!
Don’t want no more of this!
No don’t want no more of this!
Don’t want no more of this!
Don’t want no more of this!
No don’t want no more of...
This Hierarchy Malarkey! (July 2018) Default Attitude Cool
Blessed
at the moment of conception
Born in harmony with your convention
Destined to fulfil your potential,
With such ease, to be as you please
Cuz you’ve got default attitude cool!
Not having to try too hard
Not having to drive too fast
Knowing you’re gonna be first, not last
Whilst still, breaking up those rules
Attracting all the girls and boys
That’s default attitude cool! Always top
at your school,
Straight in the team at first call
And then best at your job,
Earning money with no hard slog
Cuz you’ve got default attitude cool! [Chorus] You’re
the one that all the heads turn to
Right on time, whatever’s asked of you
At the head of fashion, thought and subculture
Knowing that you were born to be a star
Cuz you’ve got default attitude cool! [Chorus] Even
after your star turned black
Your song keeps singing on
With vibrations reverberating out
To all those still in doubt
That you are default attitude cool! [Chorus]
D-D-D-Default
attitude Cool D-D-D-Default attitude Cool D-D-D-Default attitude Cool D-D-D-Default attitude Cool D-D-D-Default Attitude Cool
(July 2018)
Quite Happy
I'm quite happy when in my own little world
I'm quite happy there, not being told or ridiculed
I'm quite happy not talking about,
Hitting targets or what someone else is earning
Or what new car they're now so expertly driving
I'm not so concerned about money,
With no interest in gross wealth nor greed I'm just quite happy being absorbed,
Looking for better ways, to spend my days
What to do, watch, listen to, or read
You see, I am really quite happy in my own little world,
Just wish others would be in theirs and ours too (July 2018) Solstice
Still is
the night, before the longest day
Still is the day, that then just won’t go away
The height of the year, with life at its peak
When we go searching to find, what we can seek Over
hedgerows, forever and on
And for as far, as the eye can see
A picture so perfect, illuminated by the Ball of Fire,
Rising out from an immense, tranquil sea
At the same moment and trajectory,
It has done each year, for endless centuries Because there’s only one thing
that shines, can make this happen
Because there’s only one thing that shines, can make me see
That the reason for life is so circumstantial
That’s the reason for everything and you and me
So the world will keep revolving,
Like waves crashing upon the deep blue sea
Until in the end, as in the beginning,
Eventually, it all in turn, once more shall be… Be
still, there’s no need for speed
Be still, peace descends as the great Fire Bird ascends,
Filling the sky, transmitting to everything beneath
With this, its most altruistically sounding behest They’ll
be food on the table you’ll see,
And wine, from last year’s vine
So rejoice, give praise for this passing, don’t rush on by
Take your time and savour every last drop my friend
For it will be another full-revolution,
Before we reach such elevation again
Because there’s only one thing that
shines, can make this happen
Because there’s only one thing that shines, can make me see
That the reason for life is so circumstantial
That’s the reason for everything and you and me
So the world will keep revolving,
Like waves crashing upon the deep blue sea
Until in the end, as in the beginning,
Eventually, it all in turn, once more shall be… So be
still, there’s no need for worry
Be still, there’s no need for want nor strife
Just take, and breathe it all in
The giver of life’s, right on time once again
There’s nothing left to be done
The race has now been run
It’s time to let go and connect
It’s time for having fun
So laugh, sing, dance and love,
Under the Sun in the sky, shining so high above Because there’s only one thing
that shines, can make this happen
Because there’s only one thing that shines, can make me see
That the reason for life is so circumstantial
That’s the reason for everything and you and me
So the world will keep revolving,
Like waves crashing upon the deep blue sea
Until in the end, as in the beginning,
Eventually, it all in turn, once more shall be… [Repeat to Fade] (July 2018)
B.A.T.S of Blood!
The clouds part, the full-moon’s out The taste of quarry, hung heavy about The time has come, there’s no gettin’ away The B.A.T.S of Blood come rushing out, On this, your Judgement Day! B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
They’ll come a-lookin’ for you!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
There’s nothing that you can do!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
Better hide where you can
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
But with their echo-location on,
There’s no gettin’ away man! So better
do what you can, keep outta harm’s way
Better find a safehouse, somewhere you can stay
Better hunker-down tight, hope they’ll pass this night
But it’s just a matter of time, before your luck runs out,
And you’ll be left, hanging upside down on the line! B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
They’ll come a-lookin’ for you!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
There’s nothing that you can do!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
Better hide where you can
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
But with their echo-location on,
There’s no gettin’ away man! So
you’ve heard the warnings, know what you need to do
To stop the B.A.T.S of Blood honing in, and come lookin’ for you
There’s still time left, to change your tact,
There’s still time left, to do what’s right
To stop those B.A.T.S of Blood, swooning down your street at night!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
They’ll come a-lookin’ for you!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
There’s nothing that you can do!
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
Better hide where you can
B-B-B-B.A.T.S of Blood
But with their echo-location on,
There’s no gettin’ away man! [Repeat ‘You may now just get away man!’] (July 2018)
Tough Love
Tough Love, is what I get enough of
Tough Love, fitting, just like a fist in a glove
Tough Love, doesn’t make me wanna take my coat off
Tough Love, you know what I mean there bruv
Tough Love, like coming from the man up-above Tough Love, saying what they think is best for you
Tough Love, taking the stiff upper-lip, approach with you
Tough Love, condescending and patronising you
Tough Love, well this may all be good and true
Tough Love, but it's just not what I really want, thank you!
Tough Love, doesn’t give me any mental peace
Tough Love, doesn’t give me any emotional release
Tough Love, doesn’t smooth-out the underlying crease
Tough Love, doesn’t make the siren-sounds cease
Tough Love, like a visit from the mind-controlling, thought police
Cuz I don’t wanna get arrested, just wanna bit of your:
Unconditional, Real Heart-Felt Emotional,
Un-ceremonial, Un-custodial,
Open and Natural, Warm and Joyful
Fully Reverential, Light and Soulful,
Caring and Playful,
True and Non-Judgemental,
Uncensored, Unregulated
Deep and Passionate
Fun and Silly, Easy and Peasy,
No Fuss, No mess
Just Sweet and Succulent,
God Damn simple,
L. O. V. E.
LOVE!
'But when Push comes to Shove,
All that matters in the end is, WHO, DO YOU, LOVE?'
(June 2018 - with reference to a piece by legendary beat-poet, Jazzman John Clarke at the end)
Somewhere On The
Spectrum
Somewhere On The Spectrum, that’s me!
Somewhere between grief and happiness, I’ll be
Always shifting from one to the other,
There ain’t no knowing brother
Well, that’s just the way,
It’s always been for me!
But I’d not have it, any other way. No way! [No Way!]
No I’d not trade, with you at all today
It’s the thing that keeps me goin'
Gets me up, stayin’ forever knowin’
There’s gotta be a better way
So until I find it, right here, I’ll stay! Somewhere On The
Spectrum, that’s me!
Somewhere between grief and happiness, I’ll be
Always shifting from one to the other,
There ain’t no knowing brother
Well, that’s just the way,
It’s always been for me!
Though it keeps me forever outside, looking in
At least, I won’t have to travel this way again
No two days are ever the same,
I don’t know, how many more remain
But until that day arrives,
I’ll be right here, happy just, bein' alive
Somewhere On The Spectrum, that’s me!
Somewhere between grief and happiness, I’ll be
Always shifting from one to the other,
There ain’t no knowing brother
Well, that’s just the way,
It’s always been for me!
And though, you might not think it,
We’re all really, the same way
Not knowing how we’ll be, from day to day
You may think, you’re on your own
But there’s no need, for stayin’ alone
So simply, join in the chorus and say Somewhere On The Spectrum, that’s me!
Somewhere between grief and happiness, I’ll be
Always shifting from one to the other,
There ain’t no knowing brother
Well, that’s just the way,
It’s always been for me! [Slow] Well that’s just the way, it’s always been for me!
(Jan 2018 - That, to different degrees, we are all really just a bagful of changing emotions) Night Kicks I get my kicks at night, when I’m asleep,
I get my kicks at night, when I’m in real-deep
I don’t need no counting, of no fuckin’ sheep
What I get there, ain’t nothing can compete
Endorphins racing, adrenaline pumping,
There ain’t no need for any, morphine or amphetamine
Man! I’m right there feeling the rush
Man! I’m right there diggin' the scene
Right in, not in-between
This, the closest it gets to Bliss
This, a massive hit, from one-huge
Earthbound, Heavenly sent Kiss!
A natural feeling of pure joy and peace
Like a born again, or out of body release
Prana, Qi, Satori and Nirvana,
All infusing and flowing
To give such satisfying,
Enlightenment Karma
If only this, I could contain
If only this, would still remain
God I didn’t know, it could be so good
God if I did, then I certainly would So why then, do I awake?
Why then, do I make that mistake?
When wide-awake, as ever I’ve been
To then, just be left here,
Reeling from this, such tantalisingly, tangible dream
But at least, I’ve been there and seen
And if this is what it’s like up there,
Well, take me again Baby, I’m keen! (Jan 2018 - Following a rare blissful night's sleep) Deep Down and Dirty
Lookin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’ Going Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’ I’m Lookin’ Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’ Going Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
There ain’t no way, that I’m forgettin’
Ain’t no way, that I’m not gettin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
It’s the reason, I now have for livin’ To get Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’ No more time, wasted on the surface scratchin’ For this thing, there just ain’t no comparin’
There ain’t no way, that I’m forgettin’
Ain’t no way, that I’m not gettin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
We’re getting closer, now we’re cookin’ Feel my soul and the earth a tremblin’ Deep Down here, where there’s no returnin’ Deep Down here, with no more need for searchin’ There ain’t no way,
that I’m forgettin’
Ain’t no way, that I’m not gettin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
Deep Down here, it’s just beginin’
Deep Down here, with Dirt a flyin’
Deep down here, there’s no denyin’
Deep down here’s so satisfyin’
There ain’t no way, that I’m forgettin’
Ain’t no way, that I’m not gettin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
When Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
I’m Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’
Deep Down and Dirty Lookin’… (Jan 2018 - An attempt to write a deeper Rhythm & Blues feel) My Baby’s Blues
My Baby’s Blues,
Comes in different hues
Say, my Baby’s Blues,
It comes in different hues
One day she’s flying Sky Blue
The next she’s wearing,
[Those] Deep-down indigo shoes My Baby’s Blues,
Comes in different hues
Say, my Baby’s Blues,
It comes in different hues
One day, she’s pure electric,
The next, she’s violet,
With trouble for you know who One and one make two
But there just aint knowing who,
Will come off that paint-palette,
From one day to the next
So I’m tellin’ you honey
This is the one thing,
That’s now, got me hung-up,
And been getting me vexed
I’ve tried my best,
But there’s no rest
And now, it’s left me,
Not knowing, just what to do [Repeat chorus] Though I love her all the same,
This thing’s driving me insane
Though I love her all the same,
This thing’s driving me insane So won’t you help me please,
Before it brings me,
Down to my knees I’m beggin’ you please,
Won’t you help me,
Before it brings me, right down to my knees! (Jan 2018 - About no one in-particular. Just an excuse to write some Blues and rhyme it with 'Hues')
Same
Streets
[With Backing Track.
Showing Street Scenes of London] Let me show you
something, come, take me by the hand
We’ll grab a cab and go down town, and take a drive around
To see that these Same Streets are
still not so grand
And open your eyes to what really lies beneath,
The City’s deceivingly beautiful, gleamingly thin, veneer Exclusive high-rise,
modern, glass fronted buildings,
Disparagingly looking down on those many still below, rough sleeping
Deviously designed though to ensure that they don’t get too comfortable,
Else it will look unsightly, in the morning, for those coming in through them
Whereas those in high-rises on the other-side of town,
Are being priced out, or left in accommodation sub-standard for living in,
With crass cuts to services, but millions still spent,
Whilst crudely cutting corners, to save money on exteriors never fit for
purpose
Which were not anyhow necessary,
Just made, to make the ‘eye-sore’ to those others,
More aesthetically pleasing
Fatality resulting in lives now senselessly lost,
With a community still consumed in its raging and grieving
Then there's the whole shambolically futile Britain fucksit up process, causing clear in-division
Where once there was compliance, there’s now tangible defiance and derision
Vindictive trolling and hate crime on the rise, the showing of brutality for no justifiable reason
Against those they so ignorantly and cowardly despise
Weapon crime and acid attacks as some form of callous personal pay back?
Or just a way to dispense, their hideously venomous, pent-up poison
A gutless jogger, nastily knowing when elbowing over a fellow commuter
So a bridge, he can then continue to trundle arrogantly over
There’s now also the scourge of modern Byway Robbery,
By maliciously, malevolent, moped thieves
After anything they can take, swiped from right out of your sleeves
Pushing, chancing, the quickest way of advancing
Life forever pursuing the limited higher end chasing
There’s people, instantly communicating globally by various means
But without even a word or concern, for their nearest neighbours’ needs
Stuck in a world of their own, obsessed by what they send and receive
The need to be liked, instant gratification, with instant gratification please! Before then being instantly
forgotten
Self-consumed, self-promoting, this selfish, selfie-taking fashion So you still think you're lonely? Well, they say the loneliest
place, is in the middle of a crowd,
And man this City can be fast, cold and loud!
Especially if you’re not part of its inner, invited, selective, in-crowd
The haves and the have nots,
Caused from an unequal distribution of wealth
Yeah the same old story, the blinkered fight for transient power and glory!
Food Banks. Gross Bank Bonuses. Modern Slavery Women having trouble having babies
Refugees having trouble gaining entry
Modern living escalating mental wellbeing issues,
All against the continual suffering of a reduced,
Life-supporting, National Health Service
Having been built free for all, at its essential point of being used…
Now as the cab now pulls
over and you go on your way
I do hope you have seen something, and with you it will stay
And that your minds judgement can also be swayed
And that you now understand, that nothing’s really changed
And it’s just life for many as ever before, simply surviving on the
ground
Yet hope somehow miraculously remains, and it’s still not too late, for that real rain,
To some day come and wash, the stench of filth, from these same Same
Streets, to make them once clean again… (Oct 2017: Full length version of a poem to appear in a scene from the upcoming feature film 'The Passenger')
That
Night
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that
night,
Because I was on the other-side of town, in a house, tucked up tight...
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night,
Because I am not considered poor, and am classed indigenously white...
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night,
Because I won’t ever know the extent of their horrific plight
I didn’t see the dreadful scenes, hear the haunting screams,
And experience the total fright
Because the sickening stench I didn’t smell, from that brutally toxic, inferno
hell...
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night,
Because it wasn’t mine that were affected,
Or I wasn’t one, of the truly heroic braves,
Whose own lives, they, without thinking neglected,
To save those, so gravely afflicted...
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night,
Because I didn’t have to make split-second decisions, or send texts asking for forgiveness I didn't flee the scene, still dressed in clothing made for lounging,
With worldly possessions hurriedly thrown in a trolley,
To escape the imminent danger, all-consuming
Or I didn’t have to frantically grab,
A text book, on my perilous way out,
So I could then incredibly and stoically,
Still sit, later that day, in school,
An exam, in G.C.S.E chemistry...
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night,
Because I wasn’t in the aftermath dealing,
With the utter shock and total disbelief,
Of what had just unfolded, with such ferocious speed,
With people who had lost everything, and wanting immediate help,
To deal with their every, catastrophic need...
I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night,
But I can still share their sense of anger, of the senseless surrender,
Of lives, whose tremendously unfulfilled potential,
Was not deemed to be as good, as those others, in the rest of the neighbourhood
And the time elapsed for support to be finally given,
Left to others in grief to organise their relief
Then to suffer the spouting from platitudinous politicians,
Though some did rightly meet, those who really mattered,
But in one stark case, it was so scandalously selected... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that
night,
But I can still share their sense of rage that the numbers aren’t right,
And wanting answers, to know how this could happen, in 2017 Britain?
Especially why they had glibly dismissed, so many warnings previously given?
And what now for those lives, severely shattered?
And others in similar situations, now scattered?
Then being incensed at the crass cuts,
But still millions spent, and crudely cutting corners,
To save money on cladding, never fit for purpose,
Which was not anyhow necessary,
Just made, to make the ‘eye-sore’ to others,
Seem more aesthetically pleasing...
Well they now have a ghastly, ghostly blot as a reminder, of just what can happen,
When life is so easily, and neglectfully cheapened... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that
night,
But I can still share their fear for the future,
As restlessness and division grow deeper
We don’t want a repeat of what’s gone before,
But when voices aren’t heard,
Then some feel they don’t have a choice... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that
night,
But I still would like to sincerely salute, such a courageous community,
For taking stock of the situation, and giving all that they got
And showing what they have got, is worth far more,
Than those lot, who really couldn’t give a jot, have got... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that
night, But I have, and I’m glad as I can take heart, From those many that do care, as was
seen, Who came together and showed others, That what in the end shines through, And what really matters, is the human spirit to pull through, With compassion and love to overcome, And a belief in the greater, communal good... Justice for Grenfell
(Presented at the GFMA 'Poetry & Spoken Word Night' 28th June 2017, Woolwich, London)
June 2017: Presented verse at the GFMA 'Ceilidh & Acoustic Night', London facebook
June 2017: Presented verse at the GFMA 'Poetry & Spoken Word Night, Woolwich, London facebook
May 2017: Read some of my poetry at the Global Fusion Music & Arts 'Poetry & Spoken Word Night, London facebook
Thought! The Lord Tempts, Teases and Takes away
Thought! You've either got it, or you haven't! Well, I have a God given talent for the later...
Thought! Bling it, Until You Blang It!
Thought! We are generally happy, until we see someone else has better or more...
Katie Crush (A Song)
Katie, Katie, Katie,
Katie
I wanna be much more than matey
Oh, Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
But do you even really like me?
At the local disco community centre
I wait patiently for you to enter
I say ‘Hi’, but you don’t even see me,
And I know, only too well how this will end
As you just walk right by, with your giggling friends
Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
I wanna be much more than matey
Oh, Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
But do you even really like me?
The way you twirl your bubble-gum around your finger
Oh, how I wanna make that moment linger
Then watching your blown out gum,
Become a moment I wish I could freeze
Making me feel all trembley and go weak at the knees
Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
I wanna be much more than matey
Oh, Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
But do you even really like me?
The way you alone, make me feel
If only this to you, I could reveal
But I know, this just won’t happen
So I’m now thinking of moving out to Clapham…
Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
I wanna be much more than matey
Oh, Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie
But do you even really like me?
Do you even really notice me?
Do you ever even think of me?
Oh Katie, looks like it’s the single life for me! (March 2017: From the theme of 'Kate' at the GFMA Writers Group. A tale of late teenage angst about no one in particular, but based heavily on the fabulous work of Jilted John who I went to see perform last week.) Humans (An Open Verse)
Humans what the fuck you doing?
And Humans, just what the fuck is going on?
The way you treat each other,
Abusing beliefs Deaths and atrocities,
Now in Aleppo and the Yemen
My brothers and Sisters, this just can't go on, Oh brother! something's now got to be done
Where is the Human,
In humanity? Don't we all just really want,
And need the same?
This ain't no revelation,
No new rule of the game
Shelter, food, warmth, love, safety
Health and happiness It's the same as it's ever been,
Since Adam and Eve Not forced eviction,
At the barrel of a gun Just what has gone so wrong,
For this not to become? We share everything in common
This is something that even
A blind chimpanzee can see
We have it all, yet still not enough
If nothing changes, we won't be missed
Just a flash in the pan,
Reduced to debris and dust (January 2017: Under Construction)
Wasting Hating
Time wasted hating
In senseless negating
And endless regurgitating
Of spurious hostility finding Lost in contraction
And sure condemnation Prevention of expansion
To a higher function In fighting, not listening
Seeing only blinkered vision
It's all self-consuming, Driven by the fuel
Of ignorance, not knowing
A self-fulfilling prophecy
Engulfing and spewing
Keeping the vicious cycle,
Forever spinning
Round and Round
Round and Round
Round and Round
Spreading to others, Consuming on it's way
Never a thought for them
Until the day they die
With no chance then
For redemptive goodbye The guilt that bitterly consumes
Till the final day of calling
Then passes onto the next
And the next or until,
At last despair Realization dawns
To remove the ingrained scorn See just what could be
And what an utter waste it's all been
With what can be achieved
Without the need of such gall and greed
(January 2017)
Convention Conventions full of anal retentions
Laid down laws by such dullard bores
To go against the grain,
Takes a bucket-load of strain
To be yourself without need for refrain
To pay no heed, just keep going,
Again and again and again Convention, the sick-sister of Invention
Never going against the aforementioned
Formality breeding such banality
Rules, made to make them feel like Fools
Restrictive, Prescriptive, Conflictive
Conscription and Castration Dumb down, Don't rock the boat
Keeping them forever obeying,
Form filling, with fear of straying And having to think on their own
No longer willing to break the link
They win, You lose
Game Over
(January 2017) Searching for the Spirit of the Season Searching for the Spirit of the Season
Searching for something we can believe in
Searching for the rhyme and the reason,
That undefinable and indisputable feeling
But where to be found?
Up in sky or down upon ground,
Amongst trees or far out to sea, Or around the hearth of a loving family? From presents received and given, Or from the depths of solitude,
That deserted walls have hidden?
Or diffused within the vast silent expanse,
With all others far out of vision? Is it to be found at the bottom, Of a forever surrendering glass? Or in the look and sweet kiss,
From a tenderly touching lass? Enchantingly captivating,
With that certain and ever knowing,
Hypnotic allure in her eye Felt deep within a beating heart,
Connecting with the bigger certainty
The most precious gift of all As deftly summoned through
The mysterious chemistry, Of the Great Alchemist's,
Most phantasmagorical wizardry The essence that can't be touched, only experienced For to try to capture and contain
Sees it simply slip through your hopeless grasp yet again
So just to let it be, is the only way to see,
And in time, it just might come back again,
Ever so effortless and wholly naturally... (Christmastime 2016) Thought! I Wonder, Just Where Has the Wonder Gone..? Thought! In the End, All that Matters, Is All that Matters... Thought! Who Teaches When the Teachings have been Lost..?
(Dec 2016) Late Night Scribbling
I accept my lot
My fate is sealed
Too much exposed
Too much revealed
With my behest
My spirit rest
Too much gone
Too few to come
And all bygones
Now will be done
(Dec 2016: Of Acceptance and Forgiveness)
Greetings from a
Cellar (In the Style of a Letter Home from the Front 100 Years Before)
Greetings from a cellar
It’s rather hot down here
But it’ll be the Final Show soon,
And will then all be over
And time for us to go up on top,
To see how really is the weather Greetings from a cellar
It’s also rather crowded down here
There’s flesh and bodies abound all round
And the strange sound of toots and hoots,
From the vault far after
Along with the regular Wiz Bang from up above
Crashing and causing leeks to appear,
And that nearly bring down the ceiling
Greetings from a cellar
Trapped down here in this living hell,
Looking like it’s been blown out by a shell
With the terrible lingering stink, and tormented yell,
Of ale, ale everywhere, but not a damn drop to drink! Greetings from a cellar
At times it’s hard to contain our mania
But we do our best, although for some
They have to succumb,
With a scream and a shout,
Just to let it all out
Greetings from a cellar
Although when all’s said and done,
We’re rubbing along quite well
There's Lords and Ladies,
Mixing with Bobbies and Blaggards,
And also the odd odd lookin’ fella,
Not appearing to know whether,
They are really a Bruce or a Sheila?
Greetings from a cellar
This is the last word I can report on the matter
But at least I can now reveal
The location of where the revelry, will be
It’s The Pack and Carriage
So I do hope you can manage
To get down to the front
So you don’t miss a quip or a stunt
And please bring your family and friends,
To see the show, where the fun never ends! A Horse, A Horse
An Air-Conditioning System for a Horse….
[SHOW NOW OVER] (July 2016: Taken from observations made whilst waiting to go up on stage for the Shakespeare play 'Much Ado About Nothing')
Champ Lives On
Spoke Like A Philosopher, With A Soul Full of Poetry
Ali Surely Was The Greatest
That There Will Ever Be [Amen]
(7th July 2016: As written in the Book of Condolences at the 'I Am The Greatest' Muhammad Ali at The O2 Exhibition)
Can't Complain
I can't complain... but I do
Cuz there's something sticky, stuck on my shoe
Or that I'm now sat here stuck on the loo
After also coming into contact
With some of that super-sticky sort of glue
Whilst having a...
Right old time trying to get the sticky stuff,
Off-ov-a the sole of my right, NOW left shoe! I musn't grumble... but I do
That the world around me, seems so untrue
With the most belonging to the few,
Who are also unwilling to play fair
Forgetting the wise-words their mothers heeded,
And to her squabbling siblings pleaded,
'Play nicely now, there's no need to fight
It will only lead to no good And there's more than enough already here,
For it to go round and for us to share'
I can't complain... but I do
And think that you should also do too
For if not now, that person in need
Could quite easily in future, become you
As in the end, all that matters,
Is all that matters (April 2016) Turned Out Nice Again When the headwear has fallen from the bun
Or when life, just doesn’t seem so much fun
Then that’s the time to remember,
The words of this ‘ere rhyme
To sing, strum, hum or whistle, along in time...
For like the parting of the clouds, as is the way
With persistent, patient perseverance come what may,
There’s only one thing you’ll really need to say
It's turned out nice again!
I knew it would, like it always does
Turned out nice again!
A lovely drop of sun, helping take-away the pain
Turned out nice again!
Puckered up, now going with the grain
Oh it has, turned out nice again!
So after all the doom and gloom,
Felt through all the rain
You won’t help but come back to declare,
Through the spouting of this,
Time-honoured refrain... For when the chips are feeling,
Like they’re falling down,
There is really no need,
To adopt and wear a frown
Rather just look above and you will plainly see
[Chorus] With a little something you fancy,
And a Kwick-Kiss from the Sweet lips of Rosy Lee
Bringing you back on the mend,
Be yourself once more to resend... For like the returning of a welcome,
And dear long-lost friend
It’s time to cry out, and laugh aloud like no end
It’s then that you will clearly obtain, By Jove, it has turned out nice again! [Chorus]
So when the dog comes a barking at the door,
Simply shew it off, for it’s not welcome anymore
And remember, as has happened many times before,
It always does just, turn out nice again!
[Chorus]
Oh, I do like to be beside the Thames-side…
(February 2016: Taken from the writing of a new play by Andrew G. Ogleby)
Impermanence Permeates
Survival follows the end of a long, constant battle of trying to stay alive, Striving to go on and on with scant resources available to live on And where can be heard, the ‘dogs of doom howling more’ in eager anticipation
of what’s in store In a state where you either give up or carry on, switching over to a primeval
automatic mode Until the fittest or the fortunate finally resurface to take in the deep life-reviving
breath, Stepping out from the abyss, released, reduced and reengaging the Soul Immersed in the glorious life-reaffirming, invigorating sunlight Having made it to through to the end of the dark, long, unforgiving, tortuous night
But wait! Nothing lasts forever, and no one ever gets out of here alive Even the seemingly immortal finally succumb to those pre-numbered grains of
sand From the toughest metal man of rock, taken out with shock! Living Hard. Dying Fast. As was his want, by the sudden stopping of his terminal inbuilt body-clock Having though lived many a life and survived many a battle, with no prisoners took To the Deathly Duke, who knowing he was going, was keeping it well kept For also knowing as previously sung in another early song, Proclaiming how a thing like that, would surely impact and profoundly affect the innocently
afflicted Whereas our own Jimmy sadly soldiered on not knowing his own conscious state, The ultimate elephant, finally succumbing to its inevitable, untimely fate Having been such a life-force behind the game and the team I support, Taken them from relative obscurity to the final promotion, To rightly dine at the top-table the very year of my birth Then Brad and earlier the original Coventry Rico, Whose Special band having done so much to integrate and revive life, Into the crumbling post-war dream under increasing strife
For to really survive, is to live on when they
can no longer revive As those gone before, including unlucky members of the 27 club taken so soon. All iconic,. Not bionic. But now far off beyond the distant stars and moon Crackerjack and Stardust Memories, forever in the hearts and minds of those of
us still left behind Eternal survivors, far more than just for one day…
(Jan 2016: For the Global Fusion Music & Arts 'Writers Group'. Theme: Survival) Working
for the Man
Working for the Man,
Who wants to keep me as I am
Working day and night,
Cuz he says he’ll see me right Taking back the pay,
To keep his friends out of me way
This is how it is day after day,
Day after day If
only I could break loose
From these chains that bind
I think that you would find,
A complete change of mind
If only I could be,
I think you would see
And think differently That’s
all I ask for me
And my family
A place where we can be free
And live happily A
simple philosophy,
Escaping life’s harsh reality
That’s all I’m asking for me… Keeping going on,
As I see no other way
Other mouths to feed
And to keep from harm’s way Don’t want no questions asked,
So make out it’s all OK
This is how it is day after day,
Day after day If
only I could break loose
From these chains that bind
I think that you would find,
A complete change of mind
If only I could be,
I think you would see
And think differently That’s
all I ask for me
And my family
A place where we can be free
And live happily A
simple philosophy,
Escaping life’s harsh reality
That’s all I’m asking for me…
All I’m asking for me… 'All
I want is a room somewhere…'
(Nov 2015: DVD Diva song from the play 'Troubled meets the Troubadour')
These Useless Things
Asking mice to draw, The shortest of cheese-straws To decide the outcome of A hotly disputed score Is akin to pressing the button for, The winning of the final war These useless
things,
Never happy with
Always wanting more
Like asking mice to draw,
The shortest of cheese-straws
To decide the outcome of
A hotly disputed score
Not allowing those to walk
Along the earth that does not belong
Is as crass as asking someone to pee,
Three sheets to the wind
And to still to expect to stay soak-free These useless
things,
Never happy with
Always wanting more
Like asking mice to draw,
The shortest of cheese-straws
To decide the outcome of
A hotly disputed score
Building igloos in, the hot midday sun,
As shelter for those, who just can’t run
Is like supplying chocolate fireguards Or electing inept politicians,
Who run when the heat is on
And can't be found, when there is work to be done These useless
things,
Never happy with
Always wanting more
Like asking mice to draw,
The shortest of cheese-straws
To decide the outcome of
A hotly disputed score
The stupid shop of Grot,
Selling what we want not
That perfect gift for someone,
With no taste that no one else has got
But as others are,
It then became so popular
“Grot has
lots of things that aren’t of any use,
Some of them are red, some of them are green
And some of them are puce.”
These useless things,
Never happy with
Always wanting more
Like asking mice to draw,
The shortest of cheese-straws
To decide the outcome of
A hotly disputed score It's just like asking motley miserly mice to draw cheap chewy, cheesy-straws... (November 2015: written for Global Fusion Music & Arts writers group. Theme 'Cheese Straws')
Prove Approve
Prove approve
Having to remove,
What you wanted to say
Prove approve
To please and re-appease
To prove your self,
And not your worth
Again and again and again
Without refrain but with all the strain
Restricted, constricted, inflicted and suffocated
Prove approve, disprove remove
Never ever enough to push through and just do (October 2015) Painful Process (Killing Caring)
Unleashing a
wreckin’ ball,
To demolish a garden shed
Feeling like I’d been inside,
Reeling from the almighty thwack to the head
Not appearing to take account,
Of what was actually being said,
And said and said and said, so sad...
Chapter and verse arriving by hearse,
Over and over and over again
The poisoned post, landing on the mat,
Like an unwelcome and overweight cat
Black and white not seeing the light
Or looking within for the true meaning White noise so loud it’s become deafening
No apparent care for the state it’s causing
Issued up on high from sublime Ivory Towers
Moving away from what’s down here,
And what really matters
Losing sight of the right to a fair and just fight
What could have simply been made clear,
With an early intervening and humanistic ear
To resolve/restore with attention and due care Instead of moving away from the issue in question,
To one where it became just plain hurtful deformation
Outnumbered/outflanked/outranked without reproach,
Or assisted representation/intervention and coach Having paid the price for this pale privilege,
So reassuring the counting and figures add up
To now accept that 5 be the score of 2 plus 2,
And not whatever it was calculated as before
And to never dare ask, let alone dare question But I do now freely forgive,
And draw a line to try and forget
A process hung heavy with remorse,
And needless bitter painful regret
(October 2015 - under construction)
Just Adjust
Just adjust yourself, For your health and your wealth
Just adjust yourself, Don’t be taken by stealth Just adjust
yourself,
Nor be left on the shelf Just adjust
yourself,
It can’t be more clear Just adjust
yourself,
To make the move right here Just adjust
yourself,
I’m speaking quite plain Just adjust
yourself,
Let go all of the pain Just adjust
yourself,
And help to regain Just adjust
yourself,
The person restricted within Just adjust
yourself,
Letting it begin Just adjust
yourself,
By being yourself once again Just adjust
yourself,
Without any impact from them (Sept 2015: Reminder of Reaffirmation) End the Over
Overrated
Overstated
Overblown
Overinflated
Overused
Overexaggerated
Oversincere
Overhere
Overegged
Overbegged
Overadjective
Overeffective
Overreactive
Overandoverandover OverOverandout It'stheendofendtheover!
(Sept 2015: Observations on the unnecessary common overuse of exaggeration) Givin' it All That!
Builders turning up in the morning
Givin' it All That in the morning!
Radio’s on, slamming doors,
Beeping horns and engines idly idling
Giving it All That in the morning! At the break of day,
Just as it is dawning
Givin' it All That in the morning!
Oblivious that others may still be snoring
Giving it All That in the morning!
Dropping
poles from a height,
T-shirt off, not a shite
But givin’ it All That in the morning!
Working class Tories neglecting the stories
Just givin’ it All That in the morning!
SAW, SAW, SAW, SAW
BORING, BORING, BORING, BORING (Written during the Long Sawing Summer of 2015)
May 2015: Written a bittersweet comedy 'Troubled meets the Troubadour' (including lyrics and verse below) and currently in rehearsals for TLT's play festival in July
What’s
the Score?
Like a lost
tale from days of yore
Please tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
Seen stumblin’ through the outside door
Please tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
And meet down upon the bar-room floor
Please tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
Exchanging ‘blows’ and so much more
Please tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
Who wins, who dares, who cares?
Just tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
Landlord please tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
Somebody please tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
Tell me what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour?
So what’s the score,
When Troubled meets the Troubadour? (June 2015: From 'Troubled meets the Troubadour' by Andrew G. Ogleby)
Every
Evening
I just sit
here every evening,
Drink the drink to stop me sobering,
And to make everything more numbing
Thinking of the life I’m not leading
The thankless job I’m just not holding
My distant
wife and family not knowing,
The darkness that’s been growing,
From thoughts and feelings not flowing
My place in life no longer showing,
Replaced by those ‘far better meaning’ Friends no longer round to sound
Things no longer interest me to see
I’m living my life in this isolation,
Devoid of the warmth of humanity
Going through the motions, marking time,
Until something else comes round or I’ll…
I just sit here every evening,
Drink the drink to stop me sobering,
And to make everything more numbing
Thinking of the life I’m not leading
The thankless job I’m just not holding
My distant wife and family not knowing,
The darkness that’s been growing,
From thoughts and feelings not flowing
My place in life no longer showing,
Replaced by those ‘far better meaning’ I was once in demand
Always keen to lend a helpin’ hand
People needed my skills
Now they just pop their pills,
Or search on-line for whatever other,
Elixir they can find
Keeping up with the trend,
Instead of staying on the mend I just sit here every evening,
Drink the drink to stop me sobering,
And to make everything more numbing
Thinking of the life I’m not leading
The thankless job I’m just not holding
My distant wife and family not knowing,
The darkness that’s been growing,
From thoughts and feelings not flowing
My place in life no longer showing,
Replaced by those ‘far better meaning’
I just sit here every evening…
(May 2015: From 'Troubled meets the Troubadour' by Andrew G. Ogleby)
Landlord’s Story I get all sorts come in here
Some make some noise,
Whilst others, stare in their beer
I see it as part of my role, to simply,
Offer an ear, if someone appears unhappy
To let them be, or try and given direction,
If they just don’t have a clue, what to do
Either way it
couldn’t be more clear
When all’s said and done,
It’s a human condition
To want to feel free
And be who you are,
And would like to be
So I provide a place of trust, respect and
safety
For them to express their woes, to love and laugh
Tell jokes about life, with no doubt also a few,
About any long suffering other-halves
In amongst the warmth of this Human Zoo
With bleary eyes after having had a few
With a song in their heart and words that now rhyme
Off again, until the need returns,
To come back and do it once more, next time…
(May 2015: From 'Troubled meets the Troubadour' by Andrew G. Ogleby with harmonica backing)
Pressure
for the Perfect
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect look, the perfect shape
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect match, the perfect date
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect wife, the perfect life
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect gift, the perfect excuse
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect job, painting the perfect picture
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect delivery, in perfect harmony
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect time, the perfect crime
Pressure for the Perfect, Pressure for the Perfect
The perfect spot, the perfect STOP!
Perfection cannot be forced to be suddenly gained,
That goes totally against the run of the grain
It is precious, beautiful, limited and needs to be nurtured
Forged at the end of a long skilful process
As the flawlessly symmetrical gems in the earth did,
Hidden amongst all that other geological dearth
It is something to
strive to obtain,
To train and train repetitively,
Again and again and again
Until it becomes so natural, fluid
And without any of the previous strain
Although in the hands of the blessed few
There are those who, appear to have been given a gift from the Gods,
With grace and poise and such little noise it appears, oh so effortless…
But they still do have to practice for this to remain affective
And perfection can have its own inbuilt curses,
As in the mania to endlessly replicate or exploit this limited estate
Whilst those that hopelessly watch in awe and try to aspire,
Are left feeling inadequate with want and longed for desire
However, perfection still provides the inspiration for us to all transpire,
‘The Seldom Reached Star’ to progress ever upwards, higher and higher and higher
Although sometimes things should just be left alone as they are,
As on this perfect planet we call home,
For it is perfection as it is
And to unbalance the natural order of things,
Can surely only bring disharmony, for all living beings
Feels like the Perfect Place to Pause…
(March 2015 entry for Global Fusion Music and Arts monthly Writers Group theme: 'Perfection')
March 2015: Had three further poems accepted by TFL for their Travel Better London poetry competition 1 2 3
Feb 2015: Written and entered a poem accepted by TFL for their Travel Better London poetry competition
What are You Doing? (Nothing)
Without Nothing there can be no things…
It is from Nothing that everything begins
I mean without before the Big Bang,
Just where would we be?
The Ancients said the Dao gave birth to One,
One to Two and Two to the Three
And from all this, birth to all Things,
That includes you and me Everything stands next to Nothing
It is the emptiness of the cup,
That allows it to be filled
Or the void of the mind,
Which allows for connection,
To the Universal Field
The use of zero became the hero,
Finally making things add up correctly
And on which they then could be,
Developed experimentally Although I'd like to see, Less of the nil, on the score-line,
Of Coventry City's final entry And a few more noughts,
On the right-hand side,
Of my bank balance
statement Instead of the nada, nowt, zilch and diddly-squat,
All terms used to denote, it's not got a lot
However, Nothing is also an imposter,
A trickster an
illusionist
As Nothing is actually impossible,
Although Nothing can’t be achieved Nothing compares when Nothing else matters, When there’s Nothing left to lose nor fear So Nothing is in fact everything my Friend,
But just can’t always be seen
The vacuum making things clearer
The bigger picture residing within, every living Being
And as has been said, by a wise sage of yore,
‘Happy is the Man (or Woman) who is Nothing’ (February 2015 entry for Global Fusion Music and Arts monthly Writers Group theme: 'Nothing')
A Nature of London Violent splashes of survival,
Thriving through cracks in walls
And drab pavement slabs
The City's lungs losing their bark,
As they choke down its gargling soup
Pigeons dining out on spew
Left behind by someone who,
Had one too many over their few Whilst the parakeets' sudden startling screech,
Almost knocks small ones off-a their feet The Capital Fox on the prowl,
After the wanton sun goes down
With rats on their runs
And bats that swoon,
Underneath a full, And gloriously mesmerising, Metropolitan moon
Then humans who pass by,
Without a care or blink of eye
Detached from the very thing,
That provides with everything
On their driven blinkered course, Until finally forced to stop and flag,
Their timely fateful hearse
(Updated February 2015 - under construction)
W's Peckham (William it was Really Something)
And did Blake's feet in times long by Walk upon Peckham Rye's common green And were those heavenly visitations On this pleasant English pasture seen
And whence was he then mocked,
Cast out astray, chastised, despised. And as a beacon was he to shine, Amongst those stark, moronic minds Show me the truth, that I've been told Show me the way, that I may inspire Show me no fear. O make me bold! Show me my burning trailblazer
Long shall we strive for what is right
And be en garde for those who offend Till we have built understanding, Will England be a true and just land (Updated February 2015 - under construction)
A to B Mentality
This A to B mentality,
Is just unnecessary,
And drives me crazy
Why not take in C,
Even if it means,
Extending your journey
And pause a while,
And then you'll see
The beauty you've missed,
Whilst getting angry
(Updated February 2015 - under construction)
Cosy
Cosy in the morning,
With a cup of coffee Extra cardboard in case,
It gets too hotty
Cosy on the T.V,
Talk about baby,
Never thinking,
That we're not,
All the same maybe
Cosy on the sofa,
No need for others,
Except their attention,
Exclusivity from extended, Sisters and brothers
Cosy in the park,
Having a nice chatty Letting darlings run around
Jumping on graves,
Laid down for old braves Dumb-down no brain,
I just don't know how it can be, That they take themselves,
So seriously
And why they all need to be,
Sooo fookin' cosy! (Updated February 2015 - under construction) Door of Opportunity
I'm gonna kick down
The door of opportunity,
See what's on the other-side,
Waiting for me
I'm gonna kick down
The door of opportunity,
And trust in the hand of the Lord
Before I was Spiritually blind,
Just couldn't see
What was blatantly obvious,
Starring right in front of me
Now the light has shone,
Illuminatingly
Showing me the way,
To go afore ye I'm gonna kick down
The door of opportunity
See what's on the other-side,
Waiting for me
I'm gonna kick down
The door of opportunity,
And trust in the hand of the Lord
Now all things said All Kingdoms come Until I'm dead and gone, There's work to be done
Till I have left my mark, For any others to see What will be will be
For this time, and all eternity So I'm gonna kick down
The door of opportunity
See what's on the other-side,
Waiting for me
I'm gonna kick down
The door of opportunity,
And trust in the hand of the Lord [repeat chorus till want to stop]
(Updated February 2015)
Dumb-Down Britain
Dumb-Down Britain In Crisis we are Smitten, By a Picture of a Kitten Dumb-Down Britain Sterile is Vile, Sterility means Lack of Virility
Dumb-Down Britain Keep watching and Listening to the constant Dross, Keep on Grinning Never Cross Dumb-Down Britain View those Same Same Shows, Accepting just which Way their Wind Blows
Dumb-Down Britain Never saying what you Really Mean, Keep it Dreary, Nice and Clean Dumb-Down Britain Do just what everyone else does, Not to Question or Make Fuss
Dumb-Down Britain Let the Masses pay their Fees, To Keep the Remaining Few Well Pleased Dumb-Down Britain Whatever Mindless thing you Do, Forget Humility and Honesty, Just let Shameless Ego Shine through
Dumb-Down Britain Wrap in Cotton Wool Your Precious Little Things, To Never Take or Feel, Life’s Vital Learning Stings Dumb-Down Britain Live inside your Cosy, Safe Bubble, Never Look Beyond for that surely Spells Trouble
Dumb-Down Britain Just carry on the way you are, Raise the flag and cheer Hurrah Dumb-Down Britain And strive to be the next big star Never knowing what else exists, Just beneath your ignorant bliss (January 2015)
A Message to Fate
You Mock me
No More. You Mock me No More
You Invite me in, only to be Shown the Front Door
You Mock me No More. You Mock me No More
You Build up my Hopes, for them to Swing from the Ropes
You Mock me No More. You Mock me No More
You see me Chase Dreams, that Fall Apart at the Seams
You Mock me No More. You Mock me No More
You watch as they Land and are Trampled into the Floor
This is Life’s Fateful Opportunity for me
In a Parallel Universe I’m joyful and free
And the Life that I lead is Rich and Full
Where breaks are made, fulfilling potential
Fully engaged, contributing, true and meaningful
You Mock me No More, You Mock me No More
No More Ridicule or being presumed the Fool
You Mock me No More, You Mock me No More
Get up, Dust Down and Pay No more Heed to this Rule (January 2015)
In Chant
Come Brothers, Come Sisters, Work down to our blisters O Come Brothers, Come Sisters Work down to our blisters Come Brothers, Come Sisters Let's work down to our blisters For Love. Realised with the One above
[repeat from start till want to stop] (Updated December 2014) Hangin' Heart
Hangin' Heart
left out to dry,
Without moisture dripped from your eye,
Without claret poured from your lips,
To bathe its smouldering hidden depths
Hangin' Heart, its final pump
Stand well back, but there’s no jump
Hangin' Heart, no more to beat
The sound lub-dub turns to a bleep
Hangin' Heart, the Spirit’s left
Forever to roam with Soul bereft
Hangin' Heart,
Please take it down
Drape in its pall
Return to the ground
And attach a warning sign, ne'er to revive
Just in case of being found (December 2014)
A Cute Christmas
Silent Night, out of
sight Under the covers full of fright Pressures on, to stay or run No callers here for having fun Last year, with so much cheer How easily it is for one to fall…
Do please excuse me, As I now sit this one out, Locked in a world, Of mistrust and doubt Though still wanted to say, Lest we forget, that no one’s exempt
So open your Heart To remember Spirit's true call, When wishing Peace and Goodwill For not only the few, But to Every One and us All (Season’s Greetings from Andrew Ogleby 28th November 2014. Also submitted to Cooltan Arts to be part of the Guardian's Christmas Charity Appeal 2014 blog) Tommies Gone We’re going off to War
Don’t really know what,
We’re fighting for
But as they, cheer us on
And make, such noise
We proudly, sing this song,
‘All about the Boys’
We’re doing it for King and Country
Train leaves the station, at nine-thirty
On our way, to a Foreign Land
Shiny-sovereign, in our hand
Off, to make some noise,
‘All about the Boys’ …We’ve been in this, God-damn trench now,
For six-months, maybe more
Going into, yet another,
Final Show, of this never-ending War! With the Shelling, getting Louder
The Bullets, flying Closer
The Weather, turning Colder
The Quagmire, sinking Deeper
The Rats, are now far Bigger
The Lice, ever Sweeter
Our Comrades, Falling Stiffer
Life’s, becoming Grimmer
We can’t take, this Hell much Longer
With little noise,
‘All about the Boys’
Though the moments, in-between
There’s something, quite obscene
Because it’s Love (and rum!) that keeps you going!
And that, you’re doing your Duty,
For those, back-home not knowing
The futile, sacrifice bestowing
A life, with such few joys,
‘All about the Boys’
So let’s, hear one
last Hurrah! For All the Boys
Make some noise ‘All about the Boys’
Let’s make some noise ‘All about the Boys...’ (September 2014) The Science Museum & CoolTan Arts Present
For One Night Only!
Treatment or Experiments?
Mind Maps: Stories from Psychology LATES
29.01.14 (18.45-22.00) Largactyl Lyrical Wrap (with a ‘w’) by Andrew Ogleby
Roll-up, Roll-up and Don’t be Late!
For the Last of the LATES experience
Presented for your Pleasure,
By the Fabulous Museum Team and CoolTan Crew
Whose iconic Orange hi-viz vests,
Will help guide you through
Treatment or Experiment? A Virtual Reality
The Show enhancing Mental Well-being,
By the Power of Creativity
So Prepare to be Shocked and Amazed at the use of E.C.T
Gasp in Awe at the Wonders of Alternative Therapy Listen in Horror and Captivation of the Origin,
For the Prometheus inspired Frankenstein, by M. Shelley
See through the holes in a D.S.M
Before taking Time to Explore,
The remaining realms of Fact and Fantasy
So Roll-up, Roll-up and Don’t be Late!
Before the Sun Sets, on the Last CoolTan-LATES (For Book Launch 28th April 2014)
Lonely Star (To Win for it a Companion)
[Lament]
Oh
lonely star, lonely star how I wonder, why you are… After
the game as I reflect Upon
that proud, but lonely star, stitched to the chest That
signifies that once we were, The
best, number one But
now it’s time, long overdue To
win for it a companion… [Kicks
In]
The red and white, the
feeling’s right Colours reclaimed with no more
shame The red and white, peoples
unite, the World in one To win for it a companion… In 1990
it nearly returned But since
then the lessons learned And
now it’s time, the stage is set To banish
the hoodoo And kick-it
through the back of the net! The red and white, the
feeling’s right Colours reclaimed with no more
shame The red and white, peoples
unite, the World in one To win for it a companion… [Drop
Tempo]
It’s
just got to click in place,
We’ve
got the players to triumph But I’ve
seen the frustration etched upon their face Though
without that it just wouldn’t be True ‘Cus
we all know the pain, we must go through [Chorus]
And
as I sign off, one more thing to say
Like
the song before in whose spirit I write I
know we can play and do it right, As is
the real English way Epitomised
in Moore majestically swapping shirts With
the immortally great Edison Arantes, Pele! [Chorus]
“We’re
not going home, till the cup’s draped in red and white!”
“We’re
not going home, till the cup’s draped in red and white!” [To
fade] (Updated 13th April 2014)
Foot Soak
Foot soak, Foot soak It ain't no Joke Foot soak, Foot soak Whether Rich or Broke Foot soak, Foot soak Here's where to begin
Just fill up a bowl if your head's in a spin,
Sit right down, And put your feet right in
Foot soak, Foot soak
If still in doubt
Foot soak, Foot soak
Just wiggle 'em about
Foot soak, Foot soak
And let it all drain out... (6th December 2012) Uplifting Poem They Say to Laugh, And Not Frown Be the Best Medicine To Not Get Ye Down
But Think how much Lighter You’d Be
To Off-load all Your Shit, appropriately And How Much Better You’d Feel To Help Take the Load From Someone Else, Whenever the Cause
As it’s Good to Feel Free
So Find Your Therapy Whatever, it be From [Music], The Arts, Talking/Listening Through to Cultivating Your Qi And Let’s Try to Put The Unity,
Back into The Community! (August 2011)
New Years Affirmation (Jan 2010)
May the Fire in your heart n'er go out
May the Earth you stand upon stay stout
Let Water flow, quench, reassure and refresh
Let Wood Spring forth with direction and hope
And may Metal give inspiration and wonder all about
May all the elements protect, provide and prosper,
And conspire to bring you a long and happy ever after God save the Keane
(This was part of a match report I did for the Coventry City London Supporters Club following the game against Leicester City which Coventry lost 0-1.
'Think of ‘God save the Queen’ and replace the lyrics with those below. Better still give the old ‘Bollocks’ a dusting off and sing along... [ ].)
God Save the Keane
The goal-scoring machine A partnership with Whelan, potential A-1 God save the Keane
He won’t be no ‘has been’ He’ll be the main feature, in ours and Irelands Dreamteam
He leaves defenders prostrate on their face
Bobbin’ ‘n’ weavin’ all over the place They can’t keep up with him because of his pace Better watch out keeper he’s comin’ to beat ya!
God save the Keane
We needed that man! Robbie ‘Keano’ Keane, God save
God save the Keene
Others wouldn’t pay that money But our spearhead’s as good as there’s been
Oh God save Robbie Keane
God save the mad forays Oh he’ll have no mercy All shots not saved! He leaves defenders prostrate on their face
Bobbin’ ‘n’ weavin’ all over the place They can’t keep up with him because of his pace So what is our future? Pure culture
God save the Keane
We needed that man! We luv our Keane, God saves
God save the Keane
We needed that man! There is no finer in England’s front three men.
(And as for Gregory………?)
No future, No future, No future for you ! Oh Keano, Oh Keano, Oh, Keano, Sky Blue Oh Keano, Oh Keano, Oh Keano, Sky Blue Oh Keano, Oh Keano, Sky Blue Arrggghhhhh! (March 2005)
Observations
of Yin and Yang at Work in my Life (Assignment November 2002)
Welcoming the opportunity
to do something a bit more creative than the usual dry, 1,500word essay, I was
initially hard pressed to think of what I could come up with. However, after
watching a tribute to Spike Milligan on T.V the previous Saturday night, I
heard Michael Palin recite On The Ning
Nang Nong (1968) at a memorial concert to the great man. This must have
struck a chord with me, as on the following Monday morning, travelling to work
I penned the first draft of the opening verse in this series Yin Yang Merrily on high (and miserably on
low). Which also has overtones of another well-known Milligan ditty The Ying Tong Song (1956). This I felt went fairly
well. So then thought about doing other similar short poem/limerick type
verses, loosely in the style of Milligan and also influenced by Lao Tzu (whom,
ironically I consider to be quite similar anyway) to try and illustrate how Yin
and Yang are at work in my life. I think, the very phrase Yin and Yang lends itself to be interpreted poetically, so I hope I
have been able to portray an essence of it’s meaning in this work. Since I have had no
formal training in writing poetry, and anything I was taught at school is now
long since forgotten, I hope you will take this into account when reading the
verses and above all, hope you enjoy them. Yin Yang Merrily on High (and miserably on low)
To describe the work, Of Yin and Yang, or Yang
and Yin, Well where shall I begin? You
could say things that are,
Bright
and round are Yang And
flat and dim are Yin Or a
rush for the bus is Yang
While
to wait as 3 come along’s Yin. And
one follows the other So
neither can win. Or a
cock-a-doodle-doo’s Yang
And a
twit-to-woo’s Yin OK,
just one more Arrggghh
never again! Or a
bang is Yang,
And
who keep it in, Yin But
all’s relative…
And
when something is Yin
within Yang, or Yang within Yin Well,
that’s when the real fun begins! (7th
October 2002) Effects
Effects
of Yin and Yang around me Some
quite obvious, Others
hard to see The
midday sun The
lunar night The
sweat on the brow The
turn off the light A calm
exterior, But
inner fright Fire
in the belly, But
cold in my toes Witness
leaves fall, As the
mushroom grows (Early Autumn 2002) Gob Shite
The
more I’m Yin The
more you’re Yang But
when I’m Yang, you’re Yin And as I'm predominantly Yin, The
louder you are gettin' (9th October 2002)
Off-side
Footballs
zenith has since passed. The
game is now on the wane, After
its cycle has come full circle. The
proprietor’s wine tasted good for quite some time. To
them it was a very fine vintage But
with the nutrients,
Being
drained from its roots There
only remain a few fruits, For
those with the greatest exploitation to pick them Are we
now heading towards,
Those
bleak days of old? A time
when football mirrored society The
games nadir When
crowds were down, Aggression
and racism up And
the ball was just given a wallop If
this is the case,
Then
all those without face Will
simply jump ship And
latch onto the next thing Coming
back round there So
good riddance I say!
And I
long for the day When
the football they play Returns
to that, to be talked about for long after No
thought about points or of next year Just
the enchantment of the moment And as
a Fan, of the once beautiful game
I say
to the likes of you Mr Keane, Don’t
be so mean Instead,
try taking up T’ai Chi Ch’uan (17th
October 2002)
Stag Nations Yang
is on the rise I can
see it in their eyes Talk
of war is grim I
think we need some Yin (8th October 2002) Dichotomy
Each
weekday morning
I set
off into the Yang, The
bang and the clang The
sights and the smells, The
yells and the bells The
Yang expands Throughout
the day As I
try to retain An
eyeful of Yin, Come
what may To
continue with the daily inhibition of my job,
Or
strike out for full transformation and change? Is the
quandary that now keeps me maintained Maybe
I should just trust in the Tao, Knowing
that it will all work out in the end, somehow… (11th October 2002) The Calm before the Dorm
Late
Summers Yang is virtually spent
Autumnal
Yin is ascending A
calmness envelops across the land After
the fever of the short lasting Right
now, a balance exists, similar to Spring,
Before
the melancholy of Winter sets in But
have no fear, ‘cause you know next year It’ll
do it all over again without asking (10th October 2002)
Other Half
Where I fail, she begins
When
she’s in difficulty, I step in
She's joyful, patient, calm and relaxed
I’m
anxious, uncertain and easily vexed
We’re
poles apart
But
complement each other Around
her I can express myself better Around
me she can trust, and feels safe Apart
we are torn at the waist We
make each other laugh
But
can drive both insane Though
we retain an element Of the
other’s essence No
matter how close, We’ll
always think, Using
different sides of the brain She
does things promptly
While
I procrastinate Then
simply forgets Watching,
while I get irate She’s
dark, I’m light
I’m
morning, she’s night She’s
Fire, I’m Water I
sometimes smother But
she never scolds. The
ocean we swim in
Is
neither hot nor cold But
warm and loving Relying
on each other, To
prevent either from drowning A Tale of Two Ends of a Tunnel
The
push and the shove to get onto the train Once
onboard, relax, and let it take the strain “The
freedom to think, to breathe” Be
yourself once again As we
disembark time seems to stands still
No
need to rush here, we’ll have our fill Eat
and drink on into the night No
tension around, no need to get uptight Air’s
clean, food fresh and drink chemically free Though
don’t have too much, some of it’s 6.3 At the
market on Sunday try with all my might
Saw
hundreds of people but not a mobile in sight! Arriving
back at Waterloo it didn’t take long To
retake our place back amongst the throng Delays
occurring on the Victoria Line Bus
stuck in jam along the Blackstock Road But
what do I care
‘Cause
I’m feeling fine I
haven’t put my clock back I’m
still on con-ti-nen-tal time! (22nd October 2002) Ain’t No Messin’ with Mr In-between
In a
positive frame of mind Nothing
stands in my way It’s
an easy game to play In
touch with my creative side Ideas
come thick and fast Witty,
thoughtful, charming Energy
up, get on with the task! When
tables turn
Moods
change Words
hard to find Self
conscious, self absorbed Not
wanting to take part Unhelpful
thoughts cloud my mind Easily
annoyed, emotions well-up Until
unable to hide The
negatives last longest
Not in
a manic sort of way Just a
feeling of heaviness Until
released for a stay The
answer I know
Is to
remain focused Keep
occupied “Idle
be not” Haul
myself up, dust down Get
back in my stride! (25th
October 2002) BibliographyMilligan,
S. (1956) The Goon Show, BBC Radio,
London Milligan
S. (1968) Silly Verse for Kids,
Chaucer Press, Suffolk Mitchell
S. trans. (2002) Tao Te Ching, The Book of the Way Lao-Tzu, Kyle Cathie, London 
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