Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Bang It on the Wall

“Bang it on the wall,” she said

“The neighbours won’t object

I know it doesn’t bother them

I went around and checked

I’ve asked the folk at ninety eight

And those at ninety four

Say if the banging doesn’t help

Then slam it in the door”

It’s getting rather crusty now

A nasty shade of grey

And there’s a crack right up the back

I’m very sad to say

I’ve done my best to straighten it

I’ve brushed the fuzzy parts

And sprayed it with deodorant

To neutralise the farts

She thinks I ought to throw it out

I’ve often heard her say

The dustman wanted fifty quid

To take the thing away

I’d like to turn it into cash

I thought perhaps I’d try it

I took it to the auction rooms

But no one dared to buy it

The Council’s special helpline

Were no help at all because

They put the phone down on me

When I told them what it was

It looks as if we’re stuck with it

There’s no one else to call

So bear with me a moment

While I bang it on the wall.

Thursday, 5 May 2011

Norwegian Blue

with apologies to Monty Python

This parrot is no more, my man

What you just sold to me

You try to wake him, if you can

For he has ceased to be

There’s no point getting loud and rough

He’s quit this world of toil

He’s had enough, and now he’s shuff…

…led off this mortal coil

He’s joined the choir invisible,

He’s took his final walk

And your assertion’s risible

That he’s just tired and shagged out after a particularly long squawk

You nailed him to the perch, you fraud

D’you take me for a prat?

He isn’t pining for the fjords

What kind of talk is that?

In this here parrot’s book of life

He’s wrote his final chapter

His metabolic processes

Are not a current factor

I now insist on recompense

Yes, that’s what I’m demanding

This parrot’s stuffed, in every sense

His plumage notwithstanding

If I don’t get a pet what squawks

I’ll take it out on you

You’ve got a slug? It sings? It talks?

Well, that’ll have to do

Monday, 21 February 2011

Nonconformist Army

I'm a member of the Nonconformist Army
An offshoot from the League of Awkward Gits
We're united in our rancour
We're obstructive and cantankerous
Our uniform is anything that fits

I'm a member of the Nonconformist Army
Our enemy's the System, don't you know
Any member's charged with treason
If he stoops to rhyme and reason
And neglects to find a wobbly he can throw

I'm a member of the Nonconformist Army
We march away from any passing trend
Oh, how numerous this band is
But what I don't understand is
Why I haven't got one single bloody friend.

Will Hames

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Words of Wisdom

My son, look on this hair of grey
Observe how wise I am today
And hear these words I speak to you
They rhyme, they scan: they must be true

Throughout the ages, thoughtful men
Discovered mighty truths and then
To help instruct their fellow man
They made them rhyme, they made them scan

As generations come and go
What everybody needs to know
Is formed to stand the test of time
See how it scans! Just hear it rhyme!

Yet evil men with ill intent
Mislead us and misrepresent
The painful truth I have to tell
For bullshit rhymes and scans as well.