You love Eminem
Not to be confused
With the sweets.
Which in my day
Were called 'Treats'...
Nothing like the American poet
With his rapping and beats
Which I don't call music
I think he cheats.
I can rhyme
It ain't no crime
Passes the time
Doing fine
Words all mine.
But a rapper I ain't
Just a poet.
Which is why Eminem
Is a millionaire
With me not having the
Proverbial pot to piss in
Doing five minute
Open Mic slots
In front of forty people
On a good night
At the Poetry Cafe
Rather than Eighty thousand
In Twickenham rapping
Most with their camera phones
Hero worship papping.
Maybe there's something in that
White Man Nigga Eminem shit after all.
Dulwich Poet 30th August 2018
(Wrote this after the constant playing of Eminem tracks by a young mate of mine, when I get a lift in his car.)
Thursday 30 August 2018
Saturday 25 August 2018
"Once An Enemy..."
Non-League football it's all a changing
New divisions brought in
Traditional footprints
Dumped in the bin.
But no matter where you play
No matter where you travel
Football would be all the poorer
If rivalry began to unravel.
Right now we're the squatters
Evicted from our Champion Hill home
Supposed to be grateful to the Thugs & Muggers
Where we have to roam.
Don't get me wrong I'm grateful
And some of their fans are ok
But they're our traditional bitter rivals
Who I hate at the end of the day.
We belong in East Dulwich
Home is SE22
Stuck in the Mitcham Surrey borders
Is not where we should take a pew.
Hand on heart their ground is half decent
Venereal Fields is good for a fan
But softening towards Tooting & mitcham
Is like the Irish mellowing to a Black & Tan.
Last night they sang 'We hate Dulwich'
I wouldn't expect anything less
And even though they won the game
I took delight in them being a mess.
Two divisions below us
Honest guv I'm not going to gloat
Sing about us as much as you like
Whatever floats your boat.
Crystal Palace and Brighton
Millwal and west Ham
Where would football be if it was friendly
And no-one gave a damn?
We'd all be following the Rugger
With the 'After you Claude' brigade
It's the bitter hate of your rivals
On which the magic of football is made.
It's a depressing afternoon
When you're beaten out of sight
Only your local rivals not winning
Is what gets you through the night.
I've no idea why I hate them
Just the way I was brought up as a child
The bottom line is singing 'We hate Tooting'
In truth is rather mild.
Local rivalry not going anywhere
When push comes to a shove
So fuck off any new-veau fan
Who suggests we should hug and love.
Don't mention it again
Go take a running jump
Misjudge it at your peril
And you'll get a bleedin' clump!
Dulwich Poet 25th August 2018
(The football team I support are currently exiled at our arch rivals Tooting & Mitcham United home of Imperial Fields. Some of our fans suggest we should be nicer to them as they've let us play at their ground. I saw Tooting play Horley Town in an FA Cup game last night, on a Friday, and wrote this the next day)
New divisions brought in
Traditional footprints
Dumped in the bin.
But no matter where you play
No matter where you travel
Football would be all the poorer
If rivalry began to unravel.
Right now we're the squatters
Evicted from our Champion Hill home
Supposed to be grateful to the Thugs & Muggers
Where we have to roam.
Don't get me wrong I'm grateful
And some of their fans are ok
But they're our traditional bitter rivals
Who I hate at the end of the day.
We belong in East Dulwich
Home is SE22
Stuck in the Mitcham Surrey borders
Is not where we should take a pew.
Hand on heart their ground is half decent
Venereal Fields is good for a fan
But softening towards Tooting & mitcham
Is like the Irish mellowing to a Black & Tan.
Last night they sang 'We hate Dulwich'
I wouldn't expect anything less
And even though they won the game
I took delight in them being a mess.
Two divisions below us
Honest guv I'm not going to gloat
Sing about us as much as you like
Whatever floats your boat.
Crystal Palace and Brighton
Millwal and west Ham
Where would football be if it was friendly
And no-one gave a damn?
We'd all be following the Rugger
With the 'After you Claude' brigade
It's the bitter hate of your rivals
On which the magic of football is made.
It's a depressing afternoon
When you're beaten out of sight
Only your local rivals not winning
Is what gets you through the night.
I've no idea why I hate them
Just the way I was brought up as a child
The bottom line is singing 'We hate Tooting'
In truth is rather mild.
Local rivalry not going anywhere
When push comes to a shove
So fuck off any new-veau fan
Who suggests we should hug and love.
Don't mention it again
Go take a running jump
Misjudge it at your peril
And you'll get a bleedin' clump!
Dulwich Poet 25th August 2018
(The football team I support are currently exiled at our arch rivals Tooting & Mitcham United home of Imperial Fields. Some of our fans suggest we should be nicer to them as they've let us play at their ground. I saw Tooting play Horley Town in an FA Cup game last night, on a Friday, and wrote this the next day)
Monday 20 August 2018
"A Faithful Snapshot"
How ancient
And old fashioned
You look.
The way things were
In the Sixties.
Even before my time
Soon though...
I am to be old-fashioned too.
Already at football
I am the dinosaur
Barely half a century old.
As for religion...
Mine is football
My 'God' is Edgar Kail
Though shalt not
Worship false gods.
But he was real.
Four hundred and twenty seven goals
Spanning fourteen seasons
Tells you all you need to know.
It's the words of your gods
That I don't really like.
I am man of my god enough
To hold my hands up
And admit
Some of the work you have done
In the name of your top bloke
Ain't all bad.
Bringing communities together
Looking after the poor
Be it day trips to the seaside
Or Quiz nights in the Church Hall
Isn't to be sniffed at.
But then neither is
That smelly incense
Which really does pen & ink.
Going to mass
It ruins everything.
I think I'll stick to the football.
Dulwich Poet 20th August 2018
(There was an outdoor exhibition of photos from the Sixties, on some boards in the grounds of Southwark Cathedral. After looking at them this is what I scribbled down.)
And old fashioned
You look.
The way things were
In the Sixties.
Even before my time
Soon though...
I am to be old-fashioned too.
Already at football
I am the dinosaur
Barely half a century old.
As for religion...
Mine is football
My 'God' is Edgar Kail
Though shalt not
Worship false gods.
But he was real.
Four hundred and twenty seven goals
Spanning fourteen seasons
Tells you all you need to know.
It's the words of your gods
That I don't really like.
I am man of my god enough
To hold my hands up
And admit
Some of the work you have done
In the name of your top bloke
Ain't all bad.
Bringing communities together
Looking after the poor
Be it day trips to the seaside
Or Quiz nights in the Church Hall
Isn't to be sniffed at.
But then neither is
That smelly incense
Which really does pen & ink.
Going to mass
It ruins everything.
I think I'll stick to the football.
Dulwich Poet 20th August 2018
(There was an outdoor exhibition of photos from the Sixties, on some boards in the grounds of Southwark Cathedral. After looking at them this is what I scribbled down.)
Saturday 11 August 2018
"No Rhyme or Reason"
Who knows when our number's up
If there's anything on the other side
Or if there's a total finality
Once you've gone and died.
Will anyone really mourn me
When I end up brown bread
Whether that be through natural causes
Or acting on thoughts in my head.
Of course there's other options
Accidental or deeds foul
But whichever way I do depart
They'll mourn through duty rather than wail & howl.
Isn't that human nature
We think less of ourselves than others do
Too late when we're dead & buried
Loved more than we ever knew.
In truth I'm such a lonely man
More than you can possibly think
I really can relate to
When others are on the brink.
I've very few true friends
Plenty of people who I know
Those who will pretend to mourn me
Then forget me when I go.
In some ways I am lucky
I've got poetry in my life
My trusty pen and notebooks
Getting me through times of strife.
Never underestimate the power of poetry
For self-worth and easing pain
In slightly darker times
It's my words that keep me sane.
The delight in reading and sharing
Standing up at Open Mic
Such a buzz and confidence boost
That's what I really like.
Sat back down in my seat
Taking in other poets on the floor
That's why I keep on coming back
Always wanting more.
I know nothing about other performers
But for two hours they're all my friend
That's why it genuinely touches me so
When their lives come to an end.
We are all totally different
But for a few moments we're as one
So thanks to Ernie, Niall & Co.,
For all the events you have done.
To those who have departed
I loved you all at the front of the room
Allowing me to escape my life of drudgery
All banality and gloom.
You're the poets who've shone before me
There'll be others when I'm gone too
I'm proud to be part of your poetry crowd
And being able to say I'm one of you.
Dulwich Poet 11th August 2018
(I wrote this before the 'Platform 1 Poetry' monthly night last Saturday.. There was no feature, it was just Open Mic. A few from the 'poetry circuit' have died recently, including one who supposed to feature, but passed away the week before and the host mentioned on Facebook that it might be nice to write some sort of tribute. This isn't a tribute as such, it's just what came out, it's about, Poetry, poets and myself...)
If there's anything on the other side
Or if there's a total finality
Once you've gone and died.
Will anyone really mourn me
When I end up brown bread
Whether that be through natural causes
Or acting on thoughts in my head.
Of course there's other options
Accidental or deeds foul
But whichever way I do depart
They'll mourn through duty rather than wail & howl.
Isn't that human nature
We think less of ourselves than others do
Too late when we're dead & buried
Loved more than we ever knew.
In truth I'm such a lonely man
More than you can possibly think
I really can relate to
When others are on the brink.
I've very few true friends
Plenty of people who I know
Those who will pretend to mourn me
Then forget me when I go.
In some ways I am lucky
I've got poetry in my life
My trusty pen and notebooks
Getting me through times of strife.
Never underestimate the power of poetry
For self-worth and easing pain
In slightly darker times
It's my words that keep me sane.
The delight in reading and sharing
Standing up at Open Mic
Such a buzz and confidence boost
That's what I really like.
Sat back down in my seat
Taking in other poets on the floor
That's why I keep on coming back
Always wanting more.
I know nothing about other performers
But for two hours they're all my friend
That's why it genuinely touches me so
When their lives come to an end.
We are all totally different
But for a few moments we're as one
So thanks to Ernie, Niall & Co.,
For all the events you have done.
To those who have departed
I loved you all at the front of the room
Allowing me to escape my life of drudgery
All banality and gloom.
You're the poets who've shone before me
There'll be others when I'm gone too
I'm proud to be part of your poetry crowd
And being able to say I'm one of you.
Dulwich Poet 11th August 2018
(I wrote this before the 'Platform 1 Poetry' monthly night last Saturday.. There was no feature, it was just Open Mic. A few from the 'poetry circuit' have died recently, including one who supposed to feature, but passed away the week before and the host mentioned on Facebook that it might be nice to write some sort of tribute. This isn't a tribute as such, it's just what came out, it's about, Poetry, poets and myself...)
Saturday 4 August 2018
"The Day Is Here"
You know that song we sing
About being Conference South
In truth did you ever believe it
Words that just slipped out of your mouth.
Back in now distant days
Struggling in the depths of step four
Playing Three Bridges, Banstead, Whyteleafe
Yes we really were that poor.
A decade ago came Gavin
Two promotions on we're here
Dulwich Hamlet in National League South
Welling United hold no fear.
No longer the biggest fish
Having leapt from the Isthmian pond
Curious as to how much longer
Gavin can wave his magic wand.
I'm a lifelong Hamlet fan
An Isthmian Leaguer at heart
On the eve of this historic season
Pinching myself at this new start.
Could nick it by the odd goal
Or get stuffed by a few more
This afternoon is much more important
Than just a football score.
It's about overcoming adversity
Promoted instead of death
Enemies who are out there
Wanted eviction to be our last breath.
Now comes the hardest task of all
The fight for Champion Hill
Who knows if it will happen
Where there's a way there's a will.
Most other clubs are richer
Sponsors and revenue streams
The financial playing field might not be level
But it won't stop us chasing our dreams.
Even if we lose today
Our season won't make or break
For there's still forty one games to go
With one hundred and twenty three points still at stake.
Dulwich Poet 4th August 2018
(Today Dulwich Hamlet make their debut in the National League South, with an away fixture at Welling United. I wrote this on the way to the match, which we ended up losing two nil)
About being Conference South
In truth did you ever believe it
Words that just slipped out of your mouth.
Back in now distant days
Struggling in the depths of step four
Playing Three Bridges, Banstead, Whyteleafe
Yes we really were that poor.
A decade ago came Gavin
Two promotions on we're here
Dulwich Hamlet in National League South
Welling United hold no fear.
No longer the biggest fish
Having leapt from the Isthmian pond
Curious as to how much longer
Gavin can wave his magic wand.
I'm a lifelong Hamlet fan
An Isthmian Leaguer at heart
On the eve of this historic season
Pinching myself at this new start.
Could nick it by the odd goal
Or get stuffed by a few more
This afternoon is much more important
Than just a football score.
It's about overcoming adversity
Promoted instead of death
Enemies who are out there
Wanted eviction to be our last breath.
Now comes the hardest task of all
The fight for Champion Hill
Who knows if it will happen
Where there's a way there's a will.
Most other clubs are richer
Sponsors and revenue streams
The financial playing field might not be level
But it won't stop us chasing our dreams.
Even if we lose today
Our season won't make or break
For there's still forty one games to go
With one hundred and twenty three points still at stake.
Dulwich Poet 4th August 2018
(Today Dulwich Hamlet make their debut in the National League South, with an away fixture at Welling United. I wrote this on the way to the match, which we ended up losing two nil)
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