ONE, TWO, THREE, LIFT

Why is it sound engineers?
When there’s a gig to do
And they have to test the system
Say one two, one two, one two
And at the end of the gig
When there’s packing up to do
They don’t have any testing
But they’re nowhere in view
I think sound engineers
Can only count up to two
Because if they counted up to three
There would be heavy lifting to do

LIBERALLY HUMEROUS?

Don’t you just love them?
If only for their belief in equality
Or a love of all things PC
And an unswerving moral certainty
It’s a shame that to become a liberal
A sense of humour bypass is necessary

I COULD NOT WEEP FOR HIM

I could not weep
When he was diagnosed
And I feared the worst
Or when the false smile appeared
And he feared it too
And put on a brave face

I could not weep
As I sat at his side
His hand once as strong as atlas
Now to weak to grip
Weak like a babe
More so

I could not weep
As I watched the frown
Furrowing his weathered face
Grey, expressionless
And as his frown faded,
As the morphine took control

I could not weep
As he lay motionless,
Breath shallow
Silent, almost
But for the occasional groan
Beneath the morphine

I could not weep
At his deathbed
As the monster within
Crept through his organs
Hastening the end
For him and for itself

I could not weep
As his muscles relaxed
And the pain was no more
As he exhaled his last
And his soul passed
When he was at peace

I could not weep
Not because it wasn’t macho
Nor for lack of love
It was perhaps numbness
Or a need to be strong
For family, others

I could not weep
When my father died
When he released his grip on life
And I kissed him goodbye
I felt only relief
That his suffering had ended

I could not weep
Not even at his funeral
When all who loved him gathered
And we shared memories
Even when the curtains drew
I could not weep for him

Fourteen years later
On a cold December morning
I held my first born son
And amidst the tears of joy
I wept for him
As I held his grandson

A NOTIONAL MOTION

Toast always lands butter side down
It’s a rule of locomotion
And a cat always lands on its feet
Now here is a curious notion
If you tie the toast to the cat
Would that result in perpetual motion?

TITTER YE NOT AMY

The pop diva Amy Winehouse
It was announced in the press today
Is to buy Frankie Howard’s old house
After she’s been to rehab for a short stay
She was told she had to go to rehab
Though she said nay, nay and thrice nay

TITTER YE NOT AMY rewrite

The pop diva Amy Winehouse
It was announced in the press today
May stay in Frankie Howerd’s old house
if Amy’s Mum manages to get her way
Her mum told her she has to go to rehab
But Amy said nay, nay and thrice nay

SUMMER SEASON

The summer started oh so well
With a Euro football banquet
Though sadly the home nations
Were unable to attend it
But the Euros inevitably led
To the curse of footie nations
The summer transfer market
And the incessant speculation
After the Euros came Wimbledon
And I cheered on the plucky brit
Then suffered our inclement climate
While being bored by the Cricket
I watched the windblown whingers
Hacking round at the British open
Then courtesy of the highlights
I sat and watched it all again
Then more newspaper talk
Of who will stay and who will go
Who is in and who is out
And more stories about Ronaldo
Two weeks away on the costas
Helped to numb the pain
Then home to more paper talk
And of course more summer rain
Even the upcoming Olympics
Fail to give me inspiration
Thinking of all that track and field
Merely deepens my depression
The only thing to break my torpor
And to rejuvenated my heart
Is to hear that shrill whistle blow
And have the football season start

CRASH LOCATION

On the M25 just beyond Dartford
She lost control of her car and crashed
Hitting the barrier with great force
Then came rest with the car smashed
It happened close to where she lived
She was nearly home, not far to go
But she sat trapped in her crumpled car
Covered in blood from head to toe
The paramedic attending the crash
Examined her as a matter of urgency
But apart from the blood covering her
He was at a loss to find any injury
“Where are you bleeding from?”
He asked the girl in the battered Ford
Slightly annoyed the girl responded
“I’m from bleeding Romford”

KNIGHTS OF THE ROAD

Mild mannered and the meek
Shy and too embarrassed to speak
No goose hears them say boo
They are hardly noticeable to you
Then they get into a car
And safe behind the wheel
They are transformed
Those once quiet and retiring
Calm and rational people
Are now fearless, bold and brave
Safe in their steel boxes
That they wear like armour
Quarantined from the world
In their metal machines
They make manifest into beasts from hell
They become possessed
Morphing into deranged sociopaths
From Mogwai to gremlin
Those once too shy to speak
The humble and the tame
Now bellow obscenities
Foul and nasty profanities
To all and sundry
Dispensing venomous rebukes
Like Georges dragon breathing fire
They drive like crazed charioteers
Set loose from the hippodrome
They cut you up
With last second maneuvers
Changing lanes, jumping lights
Leaving chaos in their wake
They sneer at authority
Swear and gesticulate
No one is safe from them
The old lady at the crossing
A group of school children
A priest or a nun
No one is safe from their wrath
Then safely at their destination
Parked in another’s space
They exit the car
And are meek once more

COMPLIMENTARY MEMBERSHIP

It was early morning
The sun was barely up
I knew because I saw it rise
I had lain in the darkness
Awake and aware for hours
Unable to sleep
Uneasy in my mind
Fearful of what maybe
Helpless in the face of events
Powerless to influence them
Just too far away
A continent away
Then I saw darkness slip into gloom
Then from gloom to glory
And in that glorious dawn light
I listened to world awaken
With all the sounds of first light
The chirruping birds
Of the dawn chorus
A milk float on its way
Clinking and rattling
Joe next door heading for work
Early turn this week
Then so I didn’t want to hear
The sound I was dreading
Beside me on the night stand
The telephone rang
A numbing fear gripped me
And for a moment I was frozen
Unable to move
Powerless to answer it
It’s never good news
Not at the crack of dawn
Good news always waits
Until a decent hour
When the telling of it can be savoured
And the listening appreciated
Good news was delivered with coffee
And consumed with tea
Good news did not come
With the breaking day and the dawn chorus
Only bad news came so early
Bad news never waited
There was no reason to wait
Bad news had no good time
It just had to be delivered
The phone rang again
And the fear released its grip on me
And I picked up the phone
The conversation was short
Its contents concise
It was the news I was expecting
Dreading, fearing
It was confirmed
I was now a member of the club
Sadly not an exclusive group
Quite indiscriminate in its selection
A club few wanted to join
But whose ranks are unshrinking
I had friends in the club
My wife was even a member
As was my boss
There was no shame in it
No social stigma
But I would have given anything
To have been excluded
To be denied admittance
To have my enrolment
Delayed for 10 or 20 years
Or even a few precious days
Just one short day, not even a whole day
Just a few hours over my travelling time
This is not an uncommon reaction
I am reliably informed
To resist membership
It’s not a club you want to join
After all no one chooses to join
The dead Dads club

MY LOVE # 1

If comeliness was a race
You’d win a medal
If sweetness was an event
You’d be on the podium
If loveliness was a sport
You’d win the gold
You are really terrific
My love for you is Olympic

MY LOVE # 2

You are warmer
Than a summer day
You are cooler
Than ice cubes in a tray
You are sweeter
Than raspberry sorbet
You are as refreshing
As the ocean spray
You are perfect
In every single way

MY LOVE # 3

At the retail Olympics
You’d get your blue
You will always win
The race for shoes
If shopping were a sport
You couldn’t lose
You have a winning way
But I won you

THE ROAD TO OBLIVION

As a school kid
It was cider first
Then as a student
Wine came second
Then as a worker
The vodka came third

But it doesn’t stop there
So have a care and beware

Out every night
Drinking trebles
Never slowing down
Even seeing double
They never slow down
Never have a single

But it doesn’t stop there
So have a care and beware

Before breakfast
One eye opener
Mid morning at the office
Two snifters in the loo
A liquid lunchtime
Three large ones do it

But it doesn’t stop there
So have a care and beware

The lost weekends
Come first
Then the tremours
Follow a close second
Cirrhosis of the liver
Takes its place in third

But it doesn’t stop there
So have a care and beware

I’m only a social drinker
The first denial
I can stop if I want too
The second denial
I’m in control of the drink
The third denial

But it doesn’t stop there
So have a care and beware

In a gutter covered in vomit
Not for the first time
Coming round in casualty
More than the second time
Surrounded by medics
No way back the third time

It stops there

THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT A CELLIST

There's something about a cellist
That really turns me on
A female cellist obviously
In a low cut evening dress
Of emerald green velvet
The great polished instrument
Between her long black stockined legs
Her long brunette hair
Dancing across her naked shoulders
Brushing her alabaster skin
In frantic rhythm to her playing
As she delivers her rendition
To a largely disinterested audience
Sat in the lavish surroundings
Of a grand hotel lobby
A pale willowy figure called Deidre
Purposefully thrashing out a piece by Elgar
Or playing some uplifting Vivaldi
Maybe some Mesmeric Schubert
Or music to slash your wrists by
Courtesy of Mahler or Wagner
The music itself is unimportant
Ok its not cellists that turns me on
But there's something about Deidre
That definitely does
When she's playing the cello

GRANDDADS GLORIOUS HARVEST

As late summer
Heads towards the autumn
Great industry is evident
In the golden fields
As the tireless farmers
Gather in nature’s bounty
And come days end
The weary labourers
Tread across the fields
Once full of waving corn
The fields now adorned
With flaxen structures
These sons of the soil
Look upon the scene
With pride and relief
Pride in a job well done
And relief at finishing
While the good weather held
They head towards the village
With heads held high
And parched throats
Soon to be quenched
The entire village joins them
To celebrate the gathering
Raising a glass or two
Laughter resounding
As they watch the setting sun

HOTEL PARADISO

From their hotel restaurant
The couple sat at a table
Admiring the view
It was an unfamiliar view
With just a hint of familiarity
Like recognizing the features
Of a very distant relative
This was where the couple
Spent there honeymoon
When they were young and fearless
They were old now
Liver spotted and weary
Married when god was a boy
And the world was young
They sat in silence
Everything said before
Gazing though the window
He wondering what lay ahead
She where the years had gone
They held hands
And their eyes met
No words were spoken
But they understood
And they were content

PARTNERS IN TIME

I held your hand
Though you did not know it
And I remembered
The first time I held it
That august day so long ago
When the magic passed between us
And I knew I had found my mate
It was such an innocuous action
We were on the train
Two travelling strangers
As it rattled its way through Surrey
You were getting to you feet
When the train lurched
And you fell back with a bump
I offered you my hand
Which you took
And the dye was cast
Our journey together began
Now your journey is nearly at its end
And I sit in vigil at your side
Where I will remain
Until life leaves your body
On that quiet final breath
I said when we were young
“I would love you all of your life
When you were still you,
Before the morphine took you
You said to me
“Will you still love me all of my life?”
With a crack in my voice I said
“No I’ll love you for all of mine”