Merchant Bankers... rhyming slang.

25 security checks
An 08 number dialled
Made to feel inadequate
Belittled and reviled

No-one there to answer to
Incompetence abound
None of them available
And some just not in town

An explanation fruitless
Excuses they've a plenty
It's not their fault again you see
Your bank account is empty

A manager is just not that
A number cruncher true
He has but one sole target
making money out of you

So if you run a business
Had troubles with your bankers
It's not unfair to tell the truth
They're all a bunch of wankers

While business strives to keep our jobs
The bankers brag and gloat
About the money they have made
While we keep all afloat.

Our battered business owners
Have backbones straight and true
While bankers and their owners
Couldn't hold a torch to you

We bailed them out aplenty
When they all got too greedy
But now the purse is empty
When our business is so needy

So here's a proposition,
When recession comes to pass
And bankers find they need us
We all say 'kiss may ass"

In My Minds Eye..

http://www.strategicpublishinggroup.com/title/InMyMindsEye.html   This was my first effort, very enjoyable, have to admit was a little naive when it was written but it was a great start and if you are thinking of writing something then just do it !!.  Am currently piecing together some themed work with illustrations, its hard work but i am looking forward to the challenge.

She...of course!.

Enjoying my evening in the warm... been a long week and a cold day. Hope your Friday evening is a good one too. I wrote this 5 years ago, it still seems very fresh and innocent to me.
 

The sun wakes up and casts an eye,
across the world I love,

Yet something seems quite different   - 
and its not from up above..

For time flies by, no question why
 and days are just a blur

I try to blame the working game
......but really it is her,


The sparkle she puts in my day,
her smile could light a palace,

They're given free, belong to me -
and given without malice,


So if you ask me what has changed? -
and why my life is heaven

Its down to she, all i can be
And all the love she's given.. .

Don't Tell Me...

My daughter Megan's favourite poem by my own hand. Hope you like it too. In pink, she likes pink !


Don't tell me that life is tough,
Don't tell me you've had enough.

Don't tell me your feeling sad,
Don't tell me it makes you mad.

Don't tell me that it's not right,
Don't tell me about your plight.

Don't tell me its so unfair,
Don't tell me that i don't care.

Don't tell me about your woes,
Just take a hint from one who knows.

That we all moan and curse our fate,
When we are but a minute late

And shops aren't open through the night,
The weathers wet or suns too bright

That money never stretches far,
Or you can't have a nice new car

That eating out you had to wait,
There's not enough upon your plate.

For i am he who sees the child
with furrowed brow, so meek and mild

That hasn't food enough to eat
Or shoes upon their blistered feet

That takes a beating every day
that wishes Dad would 'go away'

The child that weeps and no-one hears
And being brave beyond their years

That hasn't Mum or Daddy there
That hasn't anyone to care

That shivers in the darkest night
Yet burns beneath the sun so bright

So don't tell me about your day
How everyone got in your way

Or someone hasn't done their best
Or all you want is home and rest

For in this world we call our home
So many children cope alone

They've not a care about such things,
Or any gift that money brings.

They only have what God allows,
Until he stoops to mop their brows.

So think before you next complain,
And don't tell me about your pain..

Committee 1. Country 0.

Do you ever find yourself wondering just who it is that advises MP's and senior management in this country?. I have to admit to being slightly bemused at the amount of time and effort (and money) they put into something that from the off is a complete and utter red herring.
The new health service bill for instance is causing uproar and one can only sit back and watch this implosion of yet another thoroughly ill thought out, ill conceived and completely irrelevant bill hit the deck faster than a speeding bullet.
So, who is responsible for putting such ideas into peoples heads in the first place?. Well I have an idea, a long shot but all the same an idea. It's not the fault of one person in the singular sense, its down to the phenomenon that blights the human race time and again and will do for ever and a day.  It's the fault of a committee. Something very strange happens to previously intelligent, like minded people when you put several of them together and task them with putting a plan together. My guess is its because there are so many ego's that need to see their input stand out in the plan that in the end they miss the actual point of why they sat down in the first place.

Sounds harsh?, well perhaps maybe, but look at government as it stands, there are so many petulant snivelling little brats who just have to have their 15 minutes of fame that in the end a decision of common sense proportions is the last thing that will ever happen and if they don't get their way then they will leak something to the press and a 'he said she said' scenario develops for all of us to see, as we have witnessed time and again.

A committee is a group of people that takes a good idea down an alleyway and slowly strangles it to death. This is fact and i believe that a certain Mrs Thatcher was so successful because she controlled those committee's around her so well and had a foresight and complete courage to stand alone and make a decision that would be sadly lacking in today's Blair/Brown/Cameron style of leadership, if you read a speech from Blair to yourself I swear you would not be able to say if it was written for any of the previous 3 Prime Ministers.

Therefore, what we could do with is a bill from an MP who has been asked to do his duty, go into his office, look at all the facts that surround the matter in hand and put something cohesive and workable on the table after consulting not with committee members, but the very people who work the shift and then take the flak or the glory if it works or is a complete white elephant.
This would serve two purposes, firstly it would be there for all to see if the said person can actually do the job that they are charged with and secondly it would make for easier translation as only one person would be needed to explain it.

After all, isn't making key decisions what we actually pay MP's for?

The mask.

Would I be that person you know,
If my face was not a made one?
Would you acknowledge that face?
If it was not to your liking?

Do I have to put a face on for you?
Or is it just to answer my own anxiety?
You smile but you don't say
You stay but you don't answer.

Is it I that you admire?
Or that which man has made?
If you want me changed
Then why did you want ME?.

The scars of change run deeper than your skin,
They stay with you as sure as rivers run,
Yet they are mine to bear.
Mine alone to bear.

As I walk through each chapter of life that i am given,
I find my mask takes more precious moments,
Takes my life... yet I am still me underneath.
Who wants to see the real me?.

I do.... Goodness me... I do.

9.2.12 Folded paper.

Have chosen not to read the paper this morning, partly because it just depresses you and also it will be full of the departure of our National football team coach's decision to quit his £6 million job because of his support for our erstwhile team captain the infamous John Terry.
 Quite why Mr Capello would jump to the support of Mr Terry who is currently facing a racism charge (in which he vehemently denies any wrong doing)  and has been found to be rather less than a gentleman with his other team mates spouses, will always remain a mystery to myself and I am sure countless others, but then again, I dont understand why the game has such a following in the first place so that's hardly surprising!.

I must admit to being something of a football phillistine, I cannot for the life of me see why millions of people up and down the country throw their hard earned at such a bunch spoilt little rich kids, who appear out of the training ground and jump in a new Ferrari and disappear off up to Cheshire-le-Moneybelt while those that actually pay their wages are living mostly in abject poverty. It's not that they are even role models for our offspring, what with arguments with the referees adultery,rascism,tax evasion, you name it we have seen it over the years.  One or two do stand out as exemplary in many ways, Gary Lineker was one and obviously David Beckham but it seems alas they are the exception not the rule.
I have a feeling that the ridiculous wages and transfer fees are going to suffer a similar fate to the housing market crash in this country sooner rather than later and in my view the sooner the better, it's at time's like these that people need to have a distraction that they can afford to use, football was always the working man's way of letting off steam from the humdrum of a week's toil, now sadly it is starting to be out of reach for many families, father and son's etc and that is surely to the detriment of the sport and all it stands for.

I for one will continue to read the newspaper until i reach the holiday section then close it and bin it, that is, when i can be bothered to pick it up at all !.

Social Network Hell..?

My status just updated
My thoughts the world will know
My love life "complicated"
My profile says its so

My friends are all out shopping
My mother feeling sick
My ex is just bed hopping
My thoughts are he's a dick

My profile needs updating
My head is in a spin
My friends all sat there waiting
My what a mess I'm in

My Facebook woes are truthful
My keyboard never lies
My friends all look so youthful
My mugshot not so nice

My greatest aspiration
My story I should tell
My message to the nation
This Social Network's hell.

A cold Monday...so what ?

Realistically, hoping for a Monday to be anything other than a damp squib on a cold and icy early February morning is being hopeful in the extreme, but i am ever the optimist, the 6.30 am start this morning doing nothing to inspire anything other than negative thoughts.
However, being the eternal businessman I took my well used sense of humour along with me and was soon having a "what are we doing here?" conversation with an owner driver of a 44 tonne truck who had parked in the yard over the weekend. He too has seen margins for earning a living diminish to the point of barely scraping a living, a sad indictment of that industry in the 21st century.
We spoke of his weekend, he won 2nd place in a kick boxing competition and was justly proud of his achievements despite his sore shins and bruised nose ! 
Waving him out of the yard i turned my attention to the icy cold looking buildings and snow covered ground and almost felt myself shiver with the cold. I went into the office and grabbed a coffee, enough to bring that smile back to my face as the lads started turning up for a days work in sub-zero conditions, have to admit i admire their aptitude and dedication in such conditions, as tyre fitting is a tough job that takes a special kind of mentality when faced with such searing cold weather, proving that once again however much the newspapers fill our heads with the sins of the youngsters these days they merely scrape the surface of the fantastic youngsters this country possesses.
So, Monday almost dealt with apart from a glass of orange juice and a couple of Jaffa cakes sat on a plate next to me as i write in a lovely warm home, it's not all bad when we think about it !.

A time to think..?

Be still like stone had made you so,

Be silent just like flowers grow

Think thoughts that light the darkest night

Make wishes you can keep in sight 

Yourself and all your thoughts transpire

Those moments spent in lifetimes fire

For mortal souls like us abound

Find life a toil without such sound.

The air we breath unto us sacred

Born unto our mothers naked

In that wail of new born cries

Our birth begins our own demise

So take a message we should heed

On life's harsh pace and chronic greed

That from the cradle to the grave
Money makes us all a slave.