The Life And Times.

Monday, 30 June 2014

Keep the rythym

Who says who loves or cries?
Who says who lives or dies?
Our past is just a guide
The future likes to hide

We can sing we can whistle
Chew on life like it is gristle
But the song will sound the same
So why the hell play it again.

Life will trip the unexpected
Leave you flat and then rejected
But you have to keep the rhythym
Or you're living in a prison.

People try to break your heart
If they love you from the start
Keep yourself a little distance
So you recognise resistance

Fly your kite when winds are strong
Don't kid yourself that you belong
Ignore the headlines in the paper
If it's true you'll see it later

Life will trip the unexpected
Leave you flat and then rejected
But you have to keep the rhythym
Or you're living in a prison.













Sunday, 15 June 2014

Bugger the football

Blame it on the football
Say it's just a bore
Head off for the shops
Ignore the final score

The country is expecting
But never giving birth
Our national games injecting
Its usual trail of mirth

If you dont follow footie
It really is quite sane
I'd rather watch old Sooty
Hitting Sweep again

Grown up men are screaming
At boxes on the wall
Once again with feeling
Oscar winners all.

The players are like film stars
All preened unto perfection
Owning flashy supercars
'Cos they cant get erections.

The managers are pacing
The touchlines like a track
Their hearts are always racing
A loss could mean the sack

Of course we couldnt leave
Without a word for FIFA
Who run the betting syndicate
For currency and reefers

There cannot be a scandal
The votes have been cast fair
Antartica in twenty six
I still wont bloody care!








A song for some guy.

I gave you my world
You gave me the same
Your flag I unfurled
But you lost your aim
The print far too small
It couldnt be read
That my love was never
The song in your head

The care and attention
I lavished on you
Got hardly a mention
I know this is true
But you were so busy
And I just in love
So blinded by feelings
I placed you above.

But tables have turned
And I am alone
Crashed and now burned
Without heart and home
I fell in too deeply
I let down my guard
I fell far too steeply
The landing so hard.

I will pick up the pieces
Its just what I do
Then iron the creases
Still left there by you
Love is for fools
None bigger than me
I played by the rules
But nothing's for free


Time will pass honey
While I try and mend
No person, no money,
Can make the hurt end.
Your words are just hollow
The hating's begun
It's so hard too swallow
Thought you were the one.






Tuesday, 10 June 2014

A Farewell To A Working Class Act.

What a thoroughly selfish act Rik Mayall has just performed, how dare he rob us of his comic genius in such a way, who on earth allowed this to happen?  Surely there must be leave to appeal?

"I feel sorry for you, you zeros, you nobodies. What's going to live on after you die? Nothing, that's what!

This house will become a shrine! And punks and skins and Rastas will all gather round and all hold their hands in sorrow for their fallen leader! And all the grown-ups will say, 'But why are the kids crying?' And the kids will say, 'Haven't you heard? Rick is dead! The People's Poet is dead!'

And then one particularly sensitive and articulate teenager will say, 'Why kids, do you understand nothing? How can Rick be dead when we still have his poems?"


Sadly, it's not the case, an icon of many of our growing years has been taken from us and in a manner that only Rik himself would be able to pull off, there one minute and gone the next. The fact is, Rik was everybody's favourite crazy uncle, or at least the one we all wanted, he was cool, funny, quick witted and was a pioneer of the "new wave" comedy that hit our screens in the 80's. It seems so unrealistic that such a giant is no longer amongst us, like we have lost a part of our family, a part of our own very make up, it brings us yet another mortality check at a time when such stalwarts are becoming the fondest of our distant memories.
Rik Mayall WAS comedy during the eighties, he wrote it starred in it and made the viewing compelling and a must watch, he was the cool crazy comedian that spanned the generations yet his wit was always edged toward his own generation, with cliches and innuendo's that only the youngsters would enjoy, but such was the man's genius that he still held court with parents and grandparents alike, testament to his infectious humour.
His like are rare, talented writer and meaningful actor along with a sharp wit and mesmerizing stage presence.
The list of dignitaries offering their thoughts will be long and endless over the next few weeks, rightly so, but Rik was above all ours, he was the hero of the council estate, the working man's hero at all times. he pretended to be up market but failed miserably much to our relief in the characters he played, somehow he always turned the tables on the toffs and made them look like they were the ones out of place, that is what made him so cool.
I will not be all sad and tearful at Riks passing because I really dont think he would want us to be, I think he would just like to be remembered for what he stood for and for his sharp witted hilarious come-backs and sarcasm delivered as only he could do, I dont think tears are needed, we need to just celebrate the life of a comic genius and someone who we could all relate to and love. What better epitaph could there be for someone who spent his life endearing the nation to his wonderful style of comedic genius.

Rest in peace Rik, the people's comedian and legend of the working man, we truly will miss that inimitable style of yours.