Posts from a time gone by. Times change, so do people, some of my views in some of these posts may well have changed over time but that’s the beauty of learning and growing. I’ve kept these for posterity.
I’m having a Terrible Tuesday flutter
My insides feels like churning butter
This must be the most awful work day
For us 9-5ers who just wanna play
Cus’ office walls are torture tools
Computer screens are death machines
Telephones go through my bones
And it’s only motherf*ckin’ Tuesday
The torrid fumes did choke my lungs
Like a pornstar choking on rancid cum
The environment had been wrecked
By f*cking cocksucking bastards and neglect
Multinational corporate greed
Nations holding onto seed
Apathetic normal souls
Helped us dig this cruddy hole
So think about what surrounds
Take a look go look around
This is our Earth there is only one
So respect it fool or we’ll all be done
Finally the day has come
To bash your bongo and bang your drum
For Blue Oyster Cult and it’s monumental
Fake cowbell player yes, Gene Frenkle
With my one and only tribute
The will make it hard to dispute
That what modern music really needs
Is much more cowbell to succeed
So don’t you forget to tune in
To my show tonight wherein
For three hours of devotee
From 7-10pm GMT
A dedication so profound
To the lovely clonking sound
Let’s strike the heavens and raise hell
What this poem needs is more cowbell!
Tune in to the Dazzle Rebel Show on TBFMonline.co.uk TONIGHT from 7-10pm GMT for three hours of stonkin’ cowbell songs!
There was a cool cat call Joe
Who had a cool bar down in mexico
His eyebrows were bushy
And he loved his wet pussy
And sucking his own big toe
Trying so hard not to be a cliche
Riding a motorcycle along the freeway
The engine thuds
A metal horse does surge
The Thunder Beast head of the herd
With black leather n’ denim
This is S & M heaven
The silver shines
Pistons glide
I’m a cliche but I’m free
Ever had one of those kiddy combinations
Like Honey and Marmite on toast?
Sunday greens with jelly beans
It’s a new take on the roast
I’ve never understood peanut butter and jello
It’s one of those American things
Like cornflakes in a lasagne
Or chocolate onion rings
But peanut butter and cheese on toast
Is definitely the combination I like the most
Not strawberry jam with chicken wings
Or butternut squash and cheese strings
Those funny, weird and strange concoctions
Flabbergast me with their options
So since turning thirty-one
There’s no more kiddy combinations, yes, I’m done
Been trying to grow basil on the windowsill
But it’s taking it’s time to get going
I wonder what I’m doing wrong
There’s barely a seedling showing
Been trying to grow basil on the windowsill
Was there a problem while I was sowing?
It’s been over a week and I’m starting to freak
I guess there’s no way of knowing
Given up growing basil on the windowsill
It just didn’t seem to be growing
I gave it up and now it’s gone
Away, banished and thrown in
Ever wondered what would happen if an earthworm had brains?
And a special suits with mechanical limbs so he could ride motorcycles and planes?
He could go on a mission to save planet Earth
From his home undergound the mighty turf
Would he battle the baddies like Psy-Crow and Bob the Killer Goldfish?
Major Mucas, Queen Slug-for-a-Butt or something equally kitch?
He’d have a deep love for Princess What’s-Her-Name
Though she’d be killed by a cow at the end of the game
So don’t balk or say my theory is sh*t
It’s an Earthworm Jim, but not as we know it
We’re half way through this poetry marathon
And I’ve not even broke out the big guns garrison
Sticking to stuff I think of on the fly
It ain’t big nor clever I cannot lie
But stick with me folks because we’re nearly there
And one or two poems will be written with more care
Some will excite you and some probably not
But I’ve always said poetry’s something that I never got
