I'm off to do a short podcast
Average a couple of hundred hits
But dare I whisper it quietly
I'm really thrilled to bits.
Going to read some poetry
Throw in a little chat
If you suggested this a year ago
I'd have said don't be a prat.
I don't have a message or a purpose
When I write with a bit of rhyme
It's just something that I enjoy
Giving me pleasure time to time.
I'm not that dedicated
I read from bits of paper
None of that taking it seriously
Memorising in your head caper.
For I never want to be a 'proper poet'
Even though I suppose that's what I am
So if you're not impressed with what I share
I honestly don't give a damn.
That's not to say I'm ungrateful
I'm proud of how far I've come
But the bottom line is I write for me
When all is said and done.
Poetry keeps me normal
Whatever that may mean
It's something that defines me
Where I'm going & where I've been.
I don't want to look back in anger
Beat myself up about mistakes again
Which is why I look to grow through poetry
My only weapon a notebook and pen.
Dulwich Poet 24th June 2015
(Earlier today I was recorded for a short poetry podcast, by one of the Lunar Poetry team. I wrote this before I did it, on the bus there.)
Wednesday 24 June 2015
Tuesday 16 June 2015
"Hater-Lite"
I'd doff my cap to your dedication
If I wore a hat
'Cos when it comes to 'Mostly Hating Tories'
I am a lazy prat.
Sure I'll always vote for Labour
To keep the bastards out
In my own way I still despise them
Of that there is no doubt.
I've never crossed a picket
A scab is the lowest of the low
But when it comes to fighting the good fight
I'm not there to deliver the blow.
I'll always back a strike vote
Stand outside my work on the line
Well that depends on the weather
If it's not raining and sunshine.
And of course I back your causes
Totally to the hilt
Well maybe too busy to go on your demo's
Petitions are how a revolution's built.
It's not that I don't want to join you
But I've got other things to do
I'm far too busy to be caged and kettled
Like animals in a zoo.
So now I'm blaming coppers
Even though I was active in my youth
Hiding behind excuses
Deep down that's the truth.
I kid myself it's OK
Not to be physically there for the fight
Truth is I'm letting down working class heroes
And that really ain't right.
It must be such a struggle
Banging your head against a wall
But if it weren't for activists like you
We'd have no rights at all.
Truth is when I seen Janine Booth's political C.V.
I don't know where to look
I hope she will be able to forgive me
If I buy another copy of her book!
Dulwich Poet 16th May 2015
(In a few days time I'm doing a feature slot at the monthly 'Paper Tiger Poetry' night in Vauxhall. also featuring is Janine Booth, a brilliant left-wing poet, who has published a booklet of her poems called "Mostly Hating Tories'. This poem is for her...)
If I wore a hat
'Cos when it comes to 'Mostly Hating Tories'
I am a lazy prat.
Sure I'll always vote for Labour
To keep the bastards out
In my own way I still despise them
Of that there is no doubt.
I've never crossed a picket
A scab is the lowest of the low
But when it comes to fighting the good fight
I'm not there to deliver the blow.
I'll always back a strike vote
Stand outside my work on the line
Well that depends on the weather
If it's not raining and sunshine.
And of course I back your causes
Totally to the hilt
Well maybe too busy to go on your demo's
Petitions are how a revolution's built.
It's not that I don't want to join you
But I've got other things to do
I'm far too busy to be caged and kettled
Like animals in a zoo.
So now I'm blaming coppers
Even though I was active in my youth
Hiding behind excuses
Deep down that's the truth.
I kid myself it's OK
Not to be physically there for the fight
Truth is I'm letting down working class heroes
And that really ain't right.
It must be such a struggle
Banging your head against a wall
But if it weren't for activists like you
We'd have no rights at all.
Truth is when I seen Janine Booth's political C.V.
I don't know where to look
I hope she will be able to forgive me
If I buy another copy of her book!
Dulwich Poet 16th May 2015
(In a few days time I'm doing a feature slot at the monthly 'Paper Tiger Poetry' night in Vauxhall. also featuring is Janine Booth, a brilliant left-wing poet, who has published a booklet of her poems called "Mostly Hating Tories'. This poem is for her...)
"Assumptions"
You used some funny word
Said you were sure we all knew what it meant
I'm might have had an inkling
If a dictionary I'd been lent.
For although my 'O' Level was English
I'm not an educated chap
Truth is I ain't got a Scooby
About all this fancy poetry crap.
It's just word bouncing about in my head
That I transfer through pen to paper
None of this poncy sticking to a formula
Like your 'proper poetry' caper.
It's a bit like stopping drinking
Keep it simple one day at a time
No need for poetic rules and regulations
Just stick to some words that rhyme.
The more I continue writing
The more my paranoia will pass
Proud to be a poet
Proud to be working class!
Dulwich Poet 16th June 2015
( Someone read a poem at a 'Silence Found A tongue', a poetry mnthly event I regularly attend to do Open Mic. They described one as a Vignette [pronounced vin-yet] & stated: "I'm sure you all know what that is..." Well I never...so wrote this to read at the next 'Silence Found A tongue' in response.)
Said you were sure we all knew what it meant
I'm might have had an inkling
If a dictionary I'd been lent.
For although my 'O' Level was English
I'm not an educated chap
Truth is I ain't got a Scooby
About all this fancy poetry crap.
It's just word bouncing about in my head
That I transfer through pen to paper
None of this poncy sticking to a formula
Like your 'proper poetry' caper.
It's a bit like stopping drinking
Keep it simple one day at a time
No need for poetic rules and regulations
Just stick to some words that rhyme.
The more I continue writing
The more my paranoia will pass
Proud to be a poet
Proud to be working class!
Dulwich Poet 16th June 2015
( Someone read a poem at a 'Silence Found A tongue', a poetry mnthly event I regularly attend to do Open Mic. They described one as a Vignette [pronounced vin-yet] & stated: "I'm sure you all know what that is..." Well I never...so wrote this to read at the next 'Silence Found A tongue' in response.)
Saturday 13 June 2015
"Colour Blind"
It's well known we don't trust politicians
Always lying about their facts
But if you're from the terraces
This one stopped you in your tracks.
For this was a 'schoolboy error'
That no fan should ever commit
There's absolutely no excuses
Even if you know the colour of the kit.
As if it didn't matter
Such an easy thing to do
Not recalling who you support
But knowing it was claret & blue.
Does it matter you're Aston Villa
But slip up and think West Ham
Well ask those who stood on terraces
See if they give a damn!
Remember those things called terraces...
Fans penned in a cage
Politicians wouldn't go near football
It wasn't a vote winning stage.
Those of us who went to a match
We were the scum of the earth
Lowest of the low in society
As your kind gave us a wide berth.
Bring back National Service
"Hang 'em & flog 'em" you said in a rage
Leaving decent law abiding Scousers
To die at Hillsborough in a cage.
We were all labelled hooligans
Total scum with Nazi links
So different from those respectable Bullingdon boys
Who smashed restaurants for their high jinks.
Now that football's fashionable
You pretend you're like a common fan
Not that you mix with the great unwashed
Safe up in your executive stand.
You only claim to be Aston Villa
As your uncle was the main director
Maybe that explains how easily
You became a West Ham defector.
The best thing about your colours
Was the posh claret you drank
And never having had to buy a ticket
With your Chairman Baronet Uncle
Being the one to thank.
You might think your mistake was nothing shameful
A simple slip of the tongue
A bit of a fuss over nothing
Like your politicians taking a bung.
But for proper football fans
You're now a laughing stock
Equal to your record at Number Ten
You are a total cock.
Dulwich Poet 13th June 2015
(During the General Election campaign David Cameron was speaking about multi-culturalism. He said:“We are a shining example of a country where multiple identities work.” And then went on to say the country was a place where “you can support Man Utd, the Windies and Team GB all at the same time. Of course, I'd rather you supported West Ham.” Yet he has always claimed to be a fervent Aston Villa fan!)
Always lying about their facts
But if you're from the terraces
This one stopped you in your tracks.
For this was a 'schoolboy error'
That no fan should ever commit
There's absolutely no excuses
Even if you know the colour of the kit.
As if it didn't matter
Such an easy thing to do
Not recalling who you support
But knowing it was claret & blue.
Does it matter you're Aston Villa
But slip up and think West Ham
Well ask those who stood on terraces
See if they give a damn!
Remember those things called terraces...
Fans penned in a cage
Politicians wouldn't go near football
It wasn't a vote winning stage.
Those of us who went to a match
We were the scum of the earth
Lowest of the low in society
As your kind gave us a wide berth.
Bring back National Service
"Hang 'em & flog 'em" you said in a rage
Leaving decent law abiding Scousers
To die at Hillsborough in a cage.
We were all labelled hooligans
Total scum with Nazi links
So different from those respectable Bullingdon boys
Who smashed restaurants for their high jinks.
Now that football's fashionable
You pretend you're like a common fan
Not that you mix with the great unwashed
Safe up in your executive stand.
You only claim to be Aston Villa
As your uncle was the main director
Maybe that explains how easily
You became a West Ham defector.
The best thing about your colours
Was the posh claret you drank
And never having had to buy a ticket
With your Chairman Baronet Uncle
Being the one to thank.
You might think your mistake was nothing shameful
A simple slip of the tongue
A bit of a fuss over nothing
Like your politicians taking a bung.
But for proper football fans
You're now a laughing stock
Equal to your record at Number Ten
You are a total cock.
Dulwich Poet 13th June 2015
(During the General Election campaign David Cameron was speaking about multi-culturalism. He said:“We are a shining example of a country where multiple identities work.” And then went on to say the country was a place where “you can support Man Utd, the Windies and Team GB all at the same time. Of course, I'd rather you supported West Ham.” Yet he has always claimed to be a fervent Aston Villa fan!)
Friday 12 June 2015
"For Gazza"
So you've been on the telly
Excusing your drinking binge
From one alcoholic to another
I hope this doesn't sound like a whinge.
For it's not ok to relapse
To binge drink & say everything's fine
Just because it's behind your closed doors
Where you guzzle back the wine.
Somehow you've got to pull yourself together
Who are you trying to fool?
Those drinking binges will kill you
I hope that doesn't sound cruel.
You can't go round making excuses
Claiming a bit of this or that is ok
Until you accept you must stop totally
You'll be found lying dead one day.
And it's going to be sooner rather than later
If you carry on the way you are
Alcoholism makes no allowances
For the fact you're a former football star.
I think despite their mock concern
The 'red tops' want you to do a Georgie Best
Reams of tales of crocodile tears
Even before you're laid to rest.
I hope you overcome your demons
But that's got to come from within
So please stop making excuses
And dump all your bottles in the bin.
Dulwich Poet 12th June 2015
(Former football icon & alcoholic Paul Gascoigne was on national television, looking healthier than he has for a while in public; but was saying that it was ok for him to binge drink now and then...)
Excusing your drinking binge
From one alcoholic to another
I hope this doesn't sound like a whinge.
For it's not ok to relapse
To binge drink & say everything's fine
Just because it's behind your closed doors
Where you guzzle back the wine.
Somehow you've got to pull yourself together
Who are you trying to fool?
Those drinking binges will kill you
I hope that doesn't sound cruel.
You can't go round making excuses
Claiming a bit of this or that is ok
Until you accept you must stop totally
You'll be found lying dead one day.
And it's going to be sooner rather than later
If you carry on the way you are
Alcoholism makes no allowances
For the fact you're a former football star.
I think despite their mock concern
The 'red tops' want you to do a Georgie Best
Reams of tales of crocodile tears
Even before you're laid to rest.
I hope you overcome your demons
But that's got to come from within
So please stop making excuses
And dump all your bottles in the bin.
Dulwich Poet 12th June 2015
(Former football icon & alcoholic Paul Gascoigne was on national television, looking healthier than he has for a while in public; but was saying that it was ok for him to binge drink now and then...)
Saturday 6 June 2015
"The Office"
Have you ever done it on public transport?
I'm not trying to be rude
I'm talking about scribbling poetry
Sorry if you're a prude.
It's not much fun in the rush hour
Crushed up against a pole
No space to put pen to paper
With writing thoughts your goal.
Desperate for your brain to switch off
Knowing there's a good one inside
That magical line gone forever
No matter how hard I tried.
Early Saturday morning
Almost a carriage to my own
Write down at my leisure
Totally in my poetry zone.
For trains & buses are my office
Where random thoughts go wild
Calm and collected on the outside
Inside like a little child.
I get such a buzz from writing
It keeps me from going insane
But this morning it's just a bonus
Killing a journey
Heading for Stansted to catch a plane.
Dulwich Poet 6th June 2015
(Random thoughts about writing on a train..while on a train)
I'm not trying to be rude
I'm talking about scribbling poetry
Sorry if you're a prude.
It's not much fun in the rush hour
Crushed up against a pole
No space to put pen to paper
With writing thoughts your goal.
Desperate for your brain to switch off
Knowing there's a good one inside
That magical line gone forever
No matter how hard I tried.
Early Saturday morning
Almost a carriage to my own
Write down at my leisure
Totally in my poetry zone.
For trains & buses are my office
Where random thoughts go wild
Calm and collected on the outside
Inside like a little child.
I get such a buzz from writing
It keeps me from going insane
But this morning it's just a bonus
Killing a journey
Heading for Stansted to catch a plane.
Dulwich Poet 6th June 2015
(Random thoughts about writing on a train..while on a train)
"Here We Go Again!"
It's six o'clock in the morning
I've just got on the Six Oh One
It's going to be a lovely day
Through the trees a shining sun.
Which sounds nice except I'm off to Glasgow
Where the forecast's showers and rain
Off to play six-a-side football
Inflicting on myself more pain.
I pretend I really hate it
Putting myself all through this hurt
Truth is it's masochistically magical
Pulling on the Supporters' Team shirt.
For us we know our level
It's not winning but taking part
I'm might be rubbish and an old 'un
But I've been there from the start.
Establishing links all over the land
Further afield in Europe too
I live for weekends like these
There's nothing I'd rather do.
Yes we should know better
We're happy just to score a goal
Genuine ambassadors for Dulwich Hamlet
It's really good for the soul.
It might cost us all a few bob
For this long weekend away
But there's nothing more I'd rather do
Than make of myself trying to play.
Dulwich Poet 6th June 2015
(I wrote this on the way to Stansted Airport, flying yp on the day to play for Dulwich Hamlet Supporters, in the veterans section of the Queen's Park supporters Sixes, up in Glasgow)
I've just got on the Six Oh One
It's going to be a lovely day
Through the trees a shining sun.
Which sounds nice except I'm off to Glasgow
Where the forecast's showers and rain
Off to play six-a-side football
Inflicting on myself more pain.
I pretend I really hate it
Putting myself all through this hurt
Truth is it's masochistically magical
Pulling on the Supporters' Team shirt.
For us we know our level
It's not winning but taking part
I'm might be rubbish and an old 'un
But I've been there from the start.
Establishing links all over the land
Further afield in Europe too
I live for weekends like these
There's nothing I'd rather do.
Yes we should know better
We're happy just to score a goal
Genuine ambassadors for Dulwich Hamlet
It's really good for the soul.
It might cost us all a few bob
For this long weekend away
But there's nothing more I'd rather do
Than make of myself trying to play.
Dulwich Poet 6th June 2015
(I wrote this on the way to Stansted Airport, flying yp on the day to play for Dulwich Hamlet Supporters, in the veterans section of the Queen's Park supporters Sixes, up in Glasgow)
Tuesday 2 June 2015
"Another One Bites The Dust"
I hope when I drop dead
You're honest about who I am
I'll be the one who's brown bread
So won't be able to give a damn.
If you're one who never liked me
Don't pretend that you did
Just say it like it really was
When they nail down my coffin lid.
I don't want a ton of plaudits
Like for that Charles Kennedy chap
If you must say it how it was
None of that pretend you liked me crap.
Because if you're someone who I don't like
I'm not going to pretend to cry
In truth I will be smiling
When it's your turn to die.
It's not that I didn't like him
But bottom line was he's one of them
And even though he's seems a decent bloke
At heart he was still a Lib-Dem.
Yes, he died far too young
And had a drink problem like me
But it's not as if I'm celebrating
More indifferent than full of glee.
He was a politician from the telly
I didn't share his views
In fact the only thing I'm sorry about
Was that it was him & not Simon Hughes.
Dulwich Poet 2nd June 2015
(This was in response to the death of the high profile Liberal Democrat politician Charles Kennedy, who was an alcoholic, which forced him out of office. It's about how people are so nice in death, but perhaps if they cared so much when people were alive....)
You're honest about who I am
I'll be the one who's brown bread
So won't be able to give a damn.
If you're one who never liked me
Don't pretend that you did
Just say it like it really was
When they nail down my coffin lid.
I don't want a ton of plaudits
Like for that Charles Kennedy chap
If you must say it how it was
None of that pretend you liked me crap.
Because if you're someone who I don't like
I'm not going to pretend to cry
In truth I will be smiling
When it's your turn to die.
It's not that I didn't like him
But bottom line was he's one of them
And even though he's seems a decent bloke
At heart he was still a Lib-Dem.
Yes, he died far too young
And had a drink problem like me
But it's not as if I'm celebrating
More indifferent than full of glee.
He was a politician from the telly
I didn't share his views
In fact the only thing I'm sorry about
Was that it was him & not Simon Hughes.
Dulwich Poet 2nd June 2015
(This was in response to the death of the high profile Liberal Democrat politician Charles Kennedy, who was an alcoholic, which forced him out of office. It's about how people are so nice in death, but perhaps if they cared so much when people were alive....)
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