Will the Poit (half poet, half wit)

Bang It on the Wall

2011-09-07T14:27:00.000-07:00

“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.

Norwegian Blue

2011-05-05T04:40:00.001-07:00

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

Nonconformist Army

2011-02-21T01:59:00.000-08:00

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

Words of Wisdom

2011-02-17T17:36:00.000-08:00

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.

Seventy Thousand Flies

2010-10-02T17:14:00.000-07:00

(a thoroughly disgusting song, to the tune of "Teddy Bears' Picnic")

I caught the clap off a toilet flap
It's eating my nose away
Upon my jaw is a big red sore
It's running on time today
And ev'ry kind of dreaded disease
From brewer's droop to phlegm on the knees
Is having quite a carnival in my bo...dy

Microbes and bacteria
Are playing ring-a-ring-a-roses in my interior
Blackheads wink from ev'ry pore
That isn't covered by two scabs or more
Tapeworms writhing merrily
And on my tongue a kind of fungus of murky grey
A swollen head of yellow and red is erupting on my bum
And I don't feel very well today

If you go down to the surgery
You're in for a big surprise
For in the corner is little me
And seventy thousand flies
And ev'ry kind of dreaded disease
From brewer's droop to phlegm on the knees
Is having quite a carnival in my bo...dy

Chavs on a Bus

2010-07-09T02:41:00.000-07:00

(based on an actual overheard conversation)

So she was like "Hey, haven't seen you in ages!"
And I was like "No, how've you been?"
And she was like "Yeah, up and down, mustn't grumble"
And I was like "Know what you mean"

So Kelly comes up and she sees us both talking
Me and this obvious wino
And after we're finished, she's like "Who was that then?"
And I'm like "I'm buggered if I know"

So she was like "Come on, you must know the woman
The way you was grilling each other!"
And I was like "Honest, the face rang a bell
But I can't quite... oh shit, she's my mother!"

Well, Kelly's like "Blimey, you're losing your marbles
You don't even know your own Mum?"
And I was like "Well, the moustache put me off
And the way she kept touching my bum!"

So Kelly, well Kelly, you know what she's like
She goes "You're a case and a half...
A Dad who's a drag queen, a Mum who's a dyke...
You've gotta be havin' a laugh!"

I'm like "Are you dissin' my fam'ly, you cow?
'Cos if so, you'd better start prayin'"
So she's like "No, no! I'm just wondering how
You grew up so well, that's all I'm sayin'!"

That's Kelly all over, talk first and think later
She's always been funny that way
And I was like "Kelly, your bloody great gob's
Gonna get you in trouble one day!"

So anyway, this is my stop. Nice to see you
Say Hi if you bump into Ben
I'm off down the council to get a new key
And my bog's overflowin' again

Will Hames
July 2010

Mysteries

2010-06-24T10:47:00.000-07:00

I like a bit of mystery, so please don't try to spoil it
'Cos there's magic in what's hard to understand
Like, there's a funny stain down in the bottom of my toilet
And it looks just like the face of Russell Brand
At least, it looks like somebody whose face is quite familiar
And how it got there's really quite a puzzle
Of course, it could be Jesus, 'cos they do look rather similar
But seeing where it is, I'd plump for Russell

Abundant are my sources of confused misinformation
Although I've been assured that I'm not dense
And many the phenomena defying explanation
And lots of things just don't make any sense
There's errors in the world today that ought to be corrected
The scale of them is almost past believing
John Lennon and John Kennedy have still not resurrected
And John McCririck's still alive and breathing

Thank God we don't know everything, there's more to be uncovered
So we really have no cause for foolish pride
Let's raise a glass to Nessie, may she never be discovered
May she teach her little Nesslets how to hide
There's circles in the crops, I hear, and God knows how they got there
There's Bigfoot, and the UFOs are soaring
And sometimes you can see things that are definitely not there
Without them, wouldn't life be bloody boring?

Elf N Safety

2010-06-01T14:13:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, shortly after the war
I learned how to fend for myself
Well, so did we all. Ah, but that was before
Some fool dreamed up Safety and Elf
The games that we'd play in each alley and road
Drive modern-day bureaucrats bonkers
You might get a fright if your marbles explode
Or choke if you swallow your conkers

We'd play on the bombsites all over the town
Collecting old bottles and tins
And somehow we knew not to jump up and down
On large metal objects with fins
We took awful chances as part of the game
Our go-karts would wobble and skid
Bad steering, no brakes, just four wheels on a frame
But we never lost one single kid

Now you can't eat a peanut without being warned
That it might contain traces of nut
And all of the dangers we merrily scorned
Have become a huge pain in the butt
You can legally buy a cook's knife at the store
But it's jail if you carry it home
The brain of officialdom seems barely more
Than an average-bright garden gnome

They tell you, "Wear rubber before getting frisky
And grease yourself up for the sun"
They've banned the cheese rolling, they say it's too risky
Well, isn't that part of the fun?
They've no sense of humour, you can't make them see
So don't even bother to try
And don't cock a snook at the powers that be...
You might poke yourself in the eye.

Will Hames
June 2010

SNIGGER

2010-04-09T04:47:00.000-07:00

You're starting to annoy me
So I'd better make it clear
That crossing me's an absolutely
Terrible idea

Perhaps I should be distant
And impassive as Stone Henge
But no, I have my mind fixed
On a horrible revenge

I'll snigger through your letterbox
And ostracise your cat
And then harangue your topiary
I'm good at doing that

I'll tell the local paper
That I've never heard of you
When people ask me how you are
I'll say, "I'm sorry... who?"

I'll sneeze into your litter bins
And gesture at your lawn
You creep, I'll make you sorry
You were ever even born

I'll buy your favourite whisky
Then I'll tip it down the drain
And serve you right for daring
To suggest that I'm insane.

Will Hames
April 2010

Medical Advice

2010-04-01T12:35:00.000-07:00

I've been to see the doctor
And he's told me what to do...
Take the tablets, use the cream
And keep away from you.

Will Hames
April 2010

The Man upon the Wire

2010-03-22T02:57:00.000-07:00

The kids are so excited that they're jumping up and down
They're watching through the window as the circus comes to town
There's painted rides and super slides and animals galore
I hope it doesn't happen like it happened once before

Our Jimmy went to see it all a year or two ago
It dazzled him so much, he went to each and every show
He fell in love with "Esmeralda, Prophetess of Fire"
So Jimmy went away to be the Man upon the Wire

Our Jimmy joined the circus in the winking of an eye
He packed a little suitcase and he kissed us all goodbye
He said he had to do it, and we really mustn't grieve
Then off he went to frolic in the land of make-believe

He sent us all a card or letter every now and then
So no one ever doubted we'd be seeing him again
The little ones are proud of him, they're Jimmy's greatest fans
We're looking out for Jimmy now, among the caravans

Well...
It isn't quite as glamorous as how it ought to be
He's mucking out the elephants and brewing up the tea
But he's never looked so happy and he never seems to tire
I'm glad he didn't get to be the Man upon the Wire.

Will Hames
March 2010

Hell's Kitchen

2010-03-01T17:21:00.000-08:00

From Frinton-on-Sea to the Bay of Bengal
There's places to terrify, shock and appall
But my mother's kitchen's the worst place of all
It frightens the strongest of men
For over the doorway, these words you can trace:
"Abandon hope, all ye who enter this place
And don't put the food anywhere near your face
If you want to see daylight again!"

A friend from my youth (may his stature increase)
Who married a girl from the local police
Was caught in the act of consuming a piece of
My mother's bread pudding he'd found.
My father went pale, he said: "Tony, you prat!
For God's sake sit down if you want to eat that
Or your rectum will plummet in nought seconds flat
And you'll drag it along on the ground!"

I've travelled the world, my research is complete
And I've rarely found anything I couldn't eat
From witchety grubs to yak's testicle meat
And cannabis cooked in a cake
But, seeking out fresh epicurean thrills
I sometimes go terribly green round the gills
And these little words make me head for the hills:
"It's just like your Mum used to make!"

Will Hames
March 2010

Small Hairy Person

2010-02-20T03:37:00.000-08:00

"You're a small, hairy person," said Mrs MacNee
"And I don't understand why you're bothering me
And I don't have the time to work out what you said
For I ought to be fixing the supper instead
Of just standing here wondering what I should do
With a troublesome, small, hairy person like you

"I was perfectly happy and doing quite well
'Til you knocked on my knocker and rang on my bell
Now I'm all of a dither, my mind's in a mess
And The Simpsons is on in five minutes or less
And the last thing I need is a bothersome caller...
F*** off, little man, and come back when you're taller!"

Will Hames
February 2010

A Phone Call on the Night before Armageddon

2009-12-28T15:52:00.000-08:00

Hello, God? Yeah, hi, this is Nigel. Accommodation Manager, Purgatory? Yeah well, apparently we’re expecting a bit of a rush tomorrow, is that right? Word is it’ll be everybody this time, yeah?
Oh, apart from those guys in the space station: they’ll be along a bit later. Well that’ll take some of the pressure off.
Look, before we get all panicky down here, can I just check this isn’t one of those drills? Like the Cuban missile crisis, y’know, where everybody was saying “What’s the point of having nukes if you’re afraid to use them?” and then they chickened out at the last minute?
I certainly do remember it. I’ll say. Expecting all that company and hardly anybody turns up. At it all night, I was, cooking vols-au-vent. Lived on the bloody things for a year.
I see, it’s not like that. Oh, more like the Flood, eh? Sorry, consider the Flood as being what? A dry run for this one. Ah yes, I see what you did there. Very funny.
Well, can I point out a couple of things? Firstly, there weren’t nearly so many people in the world when that happened, and even then you didn’t wipe all of them out. And secondly, that was a long time before this place was set up, wasn’t it? No Catholics then, were there? And you can’t have Purgatory without Catholics, can you? So we can hardly look on the Flood as a worthwhile training exercise. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this and it seems to me we’ll have to compromise a bit on our service commitment. You know, the bit that says, “Every case will be considered on its merits”? Well, we obviously won’t have time for that, will we? So I’d propose we deal with them in batches. All mime artists, Morris dancers and telesales personnel straight downstairs, all clergy who’ve never abused children can go straight up to you… pardon? Oh, right… both clergy… Okay, moving on, also downstairs would go politicians, traffic wardens and the French.
You have an objection? You can’t condemn a whole sector of society just like that? All right, how about three quarters of the traffic wardens?
Yeah, you’re right, much more reasonable.
Anyway, that still leaves a lot of people to be sorted out, and I was wondering if we couldn’t simplify it a bit. How about everybody goes to Heaven? Didn’t I read somewhere that you had many mansions up there? Ah, Paxman, yeah… point taken. Well, what do you think we ought to do?
Oh I see. Everybody downstairs, and if they haven’t managed to fit into the system after three days, they can come back up. Yeah well, if God Junior did it that way, why not? Catch you later.

MAD AUNT BERNARD

2009-06-24T06:14:00.000-07:00

In the county of Trebollocks, near St Vitus-by-the-Sea
There’s a warty-faced old harridan who’s everything to me
It’s my deeply mad Aunt Bernard, grandma’s cousin twice removed
(Well, they couldn’t leave her where she was; the vicar disapproved)

In a tumbledown old shack with stinging nettles round the door
Which the dustman and the postman and the neighbours all ignore
She sits chewing dark tobacco, playing banjo through the night
And she does a bit of shrieking, just to give the kids a fright

For the children of St Vitus are like children everywhere
They don’t understand “compassion”, they don’t know it’s rude to stare
But they’re good at spotting loonies, which in Mad Aunt Bernard’s case
Is incredibly un-difficult, it’s right there in your face

People tend to keep their distance, on account of her aroma
It's enough to clear your sinuses or wake you from a coma
If she ever had a boyfriend, well, she's managed to forget him
Local gossip says she had one, and it also says she ate him

From her dusty, battered trilby to her worn-out army boots
She’s a hymn to eccentricity, she cackles and she hoots
But there’s deep and timeless wisdom in the things she’ll often say
In her toothless, addled,”up-yer-pipes” old-biddy sort of way

So be kind to Mad Aunt Bernard, and be grateful you’re all right
You don’t giggle at a tortoise, you don’t rub a toad all night
Yet I wonder, don’t you envy her, this spirit wild and free
In the county of Trebollocks, near St Vitus-By-The-Sea?

Will Hames
June 2009

Eddy's Egg

2009-06-20T01:51:00.000-07:00

You wouldn't look twice at young Edward
If he sank all his teeth in your leg
He was dull, he was grey, then one magical day
He was given a woozlebird's egg

His mother had cooked it for breakfast
She'd served it with fingers of toast
It looked rather strange. Still, the box said "Free Range"
Only, this one was freer than most

To all of those chefs on the telly
Mum wasn't a serious rival
She was such a bad cook, Ed had learned not to look
Just tuck in and pray for survival

But it didn't taste bad, as it happened
He thought, "Don't let appearances fool ya!"
Then something went PING! inside of his skin
In a way that was downright peculiar

A change had come over young Edward
It was more than his heart could desire
From a dim little bloke who's a bit of a joke
He was suddenly quite the high flier

Oh, he still couldn't spell, not for toffee
And his maths wouldn't win him a cup
But with arms open wide, he could swoop, he could glide
He could soar like an eagle. Straight up!

To the Valley he flew, to watch Charlton
Twice he swooped down and scored a great goal
Then instead of a hat-trick, he buzzed over Gatwick
And frightened air traffic control

He learned some quite valuable lessons
As he flew to the North and the South
Such as, up in the skies there are billions of flies
So try not to open your mouth

He glided on, down to the Oval
They gave him a souvenir stump
Then over Thames Mead, he lost height and speed
And came down to earth with a bump

He leapt and he flapped and he fluttered
But he couldn't get airborne again
There was no point in squawking, he'd have to start walking
He hadn't enough for the train

When Eddy arrived home that evening
All dusty and sweaty and tired
He examined the shell that had served him so well
Yes, its Best Before date had expired

There's a gap in poor Eddy's young life now
And it seems there's no way he can fill it
He's been left with an urge to sit on a perch
And talk to himself and eat millet

Now, woozlebird eggs are not common
They're as rare as an octopus feather
But if one comes your way, check it says "fresh today"
Or give it a miss all together.

Will Hames
June 2009

To All Critics Everywhere

2009-05-19T12:05:00.000-07:00

Although you are entitled to your special point of view
I think you're a hermaphrodite...
You know what you can do!

Will Hames
May 2009

Smelly Nelly (a new rotten old Cockney song)

2009-05-01T17:53:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it doesn’t bother you, although it really should
There’s lots of words for what you do, and none of them are good
Now black’s a groovy colour and it doesn’t show the dirt
But even so I think you ought to change that stinky shirt

Oh, Smelly Nellie, I have tried to put this deli – cately
But it’s pretty clear the message isn’t getting through
Oh, Smelly Nellie, how I wish you were on telly, ‘cos
You turn me off, and I would like to do the same to you

Well, maybe you could take a bath or even have a shower
Your personal aroma’s getting riper by the hour
There’s stuff you buy in chemists that’ll make it go away
They sell it as a roll-on or a splash-on or a spray

Oh, Smelly Nellie, I have tried to put this deli – cately
But it’s pretty clear the message isn’t getting through
Oh, Smelly Nellie, how I wish you were on telly, ‘cos
You turn me off, and I would like to do the same to you

I know that you get dizzy when you’re standing near a sink
But water’s very useful, and it isn’t just a drink
Don’t worry if you wash your hair, it isn’t gonna frizz
The flies are buzzing overhead, now why d’you think that is?

Oh, Smelly Nellie, I have tried to put this deli – cately
But it’s pretty clear the message isn’t getting through
Oh, Smelly Nellie, how I wish you were on telly, ‘cos
You turn me off, and I would like to do the same to you

Will Hames
May 2009

Schnozz

2009-04-24T07:13:00.001-07:00

Jimmy had a problem, it was one he couldn’t hide
It made him want to stay indoors and never go outside
For Jimmy wasn’t handsome, no, he could have been far cuter
Without the great distinction of a truly massive hooter

It ran in Jimmy’s family, as noses often do
His father’s was a whopper and his mother had one too
His schooldays had been dreadful, other kids were rarely kind
They teased him every day and he’d pretend he didn’t mind

He never had a girlfriend, never even had a date
But Jimmy had a dream that he was sure would change his fate
To help him live a normal life, the same as other guys
He’d have some plastic surgery and cut it down to size

It took him seven years to save the money for the op
He lived on bread and water, and he simply wouldn’t stop
Denying every comfort that his body might be urgin’
For Jimmy was determined to afford the finest surgeon

The day arrived, and it was time to take the bandage off
And looking in the mirror he was sure folk wouldn’t scoff
To see him now, so handsome he could hold his head up high
And confidently, boldly, look the world straight in the eye

He strode out from the clinic with a gleeful, jaunty air
He smiled at all the pretty girls, returning every stare
But as his satisfaction reached a level quite profound
A falling grand piano mashed him straight into the ground

He thundered through the Pearly Gates, demanding to see God
Who listened to his tale and said, “You know, it’s really odd
I’d planned all sorts of goodies that were lined up to surprise you
But now you’ve lost your great big schnozz, I didn’t recognise you!”

Will Hames, April 2009

House Husband

2009-04-18T04:37:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, we've run out of that tequila you adore
I anticipate a measure of complaint
Yes, if I'd gone out shopping, then there would have been some more
But I couldn't, so I didn't, so there ain't

You're looking for some underwear? It pains me to admit
I forgot to put the washing on the line
So I stuck it in the dryer and your panties now don't fit
I suppose you'll have to wear a pair of mine

You're going to a premiere! Ah yes, that's what you said
Well, wash your face and polish up your teeth
Then paint your toes and fingernails, I'm sure you'll knock 'em dead
In Versace, with old boxers underneath

I've read the kids a story and I've kissed them all goodnight,
Reassured them there's no bogeyman to fear
I've given them their cocoa and I've told them not to fight
But they're whining. Did I feed them? No! Oh dear

The bread's all dry and pitted and the lettuce limp and curled
The cheese is far too old to tempt a mouse
It's time that I admitted, with the best will in the world
I'm absolutely s*** at keeping house

Will Hames
April 2009

Little Metal Bottletops

2009-04-17T19:02:00.000-07:00

I'm starting up a little metal bottletop collection
Collecting little metal bottletops
It's getting rather difficult to find a good selection
They never seem to have them in the shops

I've taken all the metal tops from off the bottled beer
But now the situation's getting drastic
In every little bottle shop from Timbuktu to here
The little bottletops are made of plastic

Which means I'll take a while to reach my goal, but even so
I'm really looking forward to the day
When I've enough to make a proper racket as I throw
My little metal bottletops away

Will Hames
April 2009

Charlie

2009-03-03T21:13:00.000-08:00

I don’t play golf with Charlie now
We don’t see eye to eye
We had a nasty falling out
Which ended in “Goodbye!”

I didn’t mind the fact that Charlie’s
Jokes were really weak
And even though his swing was sorely
Lacking in technique

That didn’t seem to matter
As we’d play a round or two
But there are some unsporting things
A guy should never do

Like sneezing as you’re teeing off
That isn’t fair at all
And accidentally on purpose
Treading on your ball

And cheating any time he can
And making lame excuses
And crowing when you miss a shot
And sulking when he loses

And handing you a putter
When he knows you need a driver
Would you put up with stunts like that?
No. Charlie wouldn’t either.

Will Hames
March 2009

WISE MAN

2009-02-11T16:34:00.000-08:00

On top of Old Smokey, a wise man was perched
Admiring his plants in their pots
When into his vision, there suddenly lurched
A teenager covered in spots

“Oh, hi!” called the youth, “I’ve been looking for you
You’re known as a bit of a sage.
My Mum says I might learn a good thing or two
From one of your wisdom and age.”

The wise man looked up from his fine Busy Lizzie
And said, with a voice dry as hay,
“Please try not to fidget, you’re making me dizzy
Sit down. Better still, go away!”

“Oh no,” cried the youngster, “you’re not being fair
You don’t even know why I’ve come!
I’ve ridden all day on my horse over there
I’m worn out, and I’ve a sore bum!”

“It’s not half as sore as it’s going to be,”
Said the sage, “if you stand there and moan
So either explain why you’re bothering me
Or push off and leave me alone.”

“Thing is,” cried the youngster, “I need some advice
On how to be clever and quick
‘Cause none of the girls ever looks at me twice
They all think I’m dim as a brick!

“Please tell me the secret of wisdom an’ stuff
In words even I’d understand.
I need it made simple and punchy enough
To write on the back of my hand.”

“Be silent, my son,” the old wise man replied,
“And try to go into a trance
Switch off all the chatter that’s boiling inside
And give your poor brain cell a chance

“In silence you’ll find all the wisdom you need
There’s really no reason to fear it
You’ll find inspiration, it whispers indeed
And that’s why you can’t seem to hear it.

“Keep silent, and if they suspect you’re a prat
Believe me, it’s better by far
Than spouting opinions to this one and that
And proving how stupid you are!”

Will Hames

CHAUVINIST LOVE SONG

2009-01-25T21:05:00.000-08:00

You’re perfect as you are today
I wouldn’t change a single thing
Or have you any other way
So here is what I’m promising:

Provided you accept my friends
And water my begonias
And work all hours the good Lord sends
To make my life harmonious

And always laugh at all my jokes
Yes, even those you’ve heard before
And never look at other blokes
And give me children, three or four

Provided you don’t deviate
From views I hold traditionally
And never age or put on weight
I’ll love you unconditionally

Will Hames
January 2009

Hypochondriac

2009-01-09T18:31:00.000-08:00

You've been at death's door and you nearly went through?
You woke in the mortuary, naked and blue?
You'll always find somebody worse off than you...
My cousin, young Freddie Lafitte
Don't talk of your ailments in front of this lad
No matter what illnesses you've ever had
Our Freddie's been through it, but three times as bad
It's a wonder he stays so up-beat

If your liver's a mess and your pulse so unsteady
That you should be pushing up daisies already
You know you can always rely on our Freddie
To go just that little bit better
Trepanned in an accident somewhere in Spain
Transported to hospital, screaming with pain
His wide-open cranium letting in rain
On the back of a knackered Lambretta

He told us the surgeons were taking his throat away
Mother believed him and gave his old coat away
You've had a bypass? This fool had a motorway
Boy, did he give us a fright!
They know him in resuss so well, it's a farce
He's such an incredible pain in the arse
They made him a Regular Visitor's Pass
To the tunnel of dazzling light

Much as we pity his sad situation
We're tired of him causing us such consternation
I think he's addicted to defibrilation
And that's how he gets all his kicks
But when it's all over, I'm sure that he'll find
That Death is fed up with him changing his mind
He'll take him half way and then leave him behind
On the banks of the old River Styx

Will Hames
January 2009

King Davey (another one for the kids)

2008-12-08T16:33:00.000-08:00

King Davey had a navy and an army of his own
And somebody to fan him as he sat upon his throne
A typist typing letters, a reader reading mail
A jewel-encrusted sunshine lamp, to stop him looking pale

The doctors came a-running if he ever gave a sneeze
In church he knelt on pillows, just in case he bruised his knees
His crown was really pretty and it shone without a speck
And yet it wasn't heavy, so it wouldn't strain his neck

A servant stirred his porridge, another drove his car
(King Davey really wasn't used to walking very far)
To help him get to sleep at night, cathedral choirs would sing
Apart from breathing in and out, he hardly did a thing

Now, you may think King Davey was the happiest of men
But if you really knew him well, you'd have to think again
He'd look out of his window at the children of the town
He'd hear their merry laughter, see them running, falling down

They didn't seem to worry if they had a bump or two
And as for getting dirty, did they panic? No. Would you?
So shortly after Easter, on a warm and sunny day
Without a word of warning, Good King Davey ran away

He found some grubby gardening clothes inside the gardeners' shed
He ripped off all his royal robes and put these on instead
Perhaps he wouldn't prosper, but he really meant to try
One last look at the Palace, then he waved it all goodbye

Then, whistling a merry tune, he strode towards the sun
He hardly dared believe his big adventure had begun
But...
In shoes that let in gravel, smelly clothes that didn't fit
He soon felt hot and tired, but there was nowhere he could sit

His tummy started rumbling. It was nearly time for tea.
Of course, he had no money (kings don't carry it, you see)
He tried to do some begging but it really didn't pay
For people took one look at him then quickly walked away

Or else they looked right through him, made believe he wasn't there
King Davey started crying, but they simply didn't care
They wouldn't give him money, wouldn't talk to him at all
Until he met a little boy who said his name was Paul

"Hello, Your Royal Majesty, what brings you out this far
Without your long red carpet and your great big shiny car?
You're looking really tuckered out. Why don't you come with me?
I'm sure my Mum would gladly set another place for tea...

"Sure, come and put your feet up, have a rest from all your labours
It's only round the corner, and we've very quiet neighbours!"
King Davey was astounded: "Keep it down! I'm on the run!
But first of all, please tell me, how'd you recognise me, son?"

"I've seen you on the stamps and all the money, Sire," he said
"What really gives the game away's that crown there on your head.
I know you're not the same as me, you're quite the perfect toff
But if you're incognito, shouldn't you, like, take it off?"

Too late! The royal car pulled up and sixteen men jumped out
They gathered round the king and every one began to shout
"Thank goodness that we've found you! All the palace is a-riot!"
King Davey raised his hands and said, "For goodness' sake, be quiet"

He turned to Paul, "You've treated me with kindness and respect.
I just can't handle normal life. Well, what did I expect?
You're welcome at the Palace. Come and see where I belong.
I'll treat you to a slap-up meal. Bring all your friends along!"

The Palace is in uproar now, with children running free
They finger all the ornaments and drink the royal tea
They're teaching Davey football in a most un-regal way
He's learned to laugh, and needs a bath at least three times a day

He's jogging in a tracksuit, turning cartwheels on the lawn
He hasn't been so happy since the day that he was born
The old king would be horrified to see his eldest son
But Davey doesn't give a hoot. At last, he's having fun.

Will Hames
December 2008

ALEXANDER THE PANDA

2008-12-05T05:51:00.000-08:00

Alexander was a panda, and he lived in London Zoo
One day, he asked his keeper, “What’s a panda meant to do?”
“My goodness, what a question!” said the keeper in dismay
“I’ve never been a panda, so I really couldn’t say.”

“But all the other animals” said Alex, “have a job
While I’m as good as useless, just a great big hairy blob
The others sing, or jump, or swim, and don’t they do it well?
And all I ever seem to do is sit around and smell!”

“Hey, someone’s got to sit around and smell,” the keeper said
“But if you’re so unhappy, just do something else instead
Try chattering at sparrows, like our tubby tabby cat
Or grab a bunch of bamboo shoots and weave yourself a hat

“Or, if that doesn’t seem like fun, then tell me what you’d like.”
“I think,” said Alexander, “I could learn to ride a bike.”

Next day, the kindly keeper brought a shiny white and black
Amazing little bicycle, with “L” plates front and back
The other creatures laughed so hard, they nearly had a pain
To see poor Alex climbing on and falling off again

They all had quite a giggle, even Alexander’s Mum
That tiny little saddle! That big, round, hairy tum!
Soon people came from miles around to shout, “What are you like?”
At Alexander Panda as he tumbled off his bike

If Alex was embarrassed, well, he never let it show
He’d pick himself up off the ground and have another go

Until at last, his mother said, “My darling, this is true
To ride a bike is something that a panda cannot do
We just don’t have the legs for it, we’re built like hairy plums
Can’t even hold the handlebars, we haven’t any thumbs

“You know, I’m very proud of you for following your dream
But now it’s time you gave it up. Try something less extreme
Please listen to your mother, and I’m sure you’ll see I’m right”
But Alex couldn’t hear her, for he’d pedalled out of sight!

He whizzed around the walrus pool, he belted round the block
As all the other animals looked on in total shock
The monkeys didn’t gibber and the lions didn’t roar
And absolutely nobody was laughing any more

Then everybody shouted in amazed astonishment,
“It’s Alexander Panda! Here he comes! Wow! There he went!”

If you should hear a tinkling bell one dark and stormy night
And hurry to your window, you may see an eerie sight
Behold, a blur of black-white fur, in purple cycle pants
It’s Alexander Panda, training for the Tour de France!

Will Hames, November 2008

Violet Brown

2008-12-02T03:03:00.000-08:00

Violet Brown was known in this town
For the tartar that tainted her teeth
Her hobby, of late, was directing her hate
At the folk in the flat underneath

Clues there were none, as to what they had done
To make her so bitter and twisted
But she'd fume and she'd squint at the tiniest hint
That the people downstairs still existed

They didn't deserve all the loathing she'd serve up
Each day at the drop of a hat
But Violet Brown had a need to look down
On somebody, the nasty old bat

She was ugly as sin, without and within
This evil-intentioned old harpy
With a stoop and a hump and a face like the rump
Of a recently-rogered okapi

She'd hated her Mum, 'til the Reaper had come
The loss made her bile even stronger
And her husband, it's said, had preferred to be dead
Than to live with old Vi any longer

He'd worked like a slave to make her behave
But that hadn't done any good
So, shouting "Oh, f*** it!" he'd gone to the bucket
And kicked it as hard as he could

Now lone and aloof, she'd stand on the roof
Surveying the pavement below
And screeching, "Just die!" as the neighbours went by
It was her way of saying, "Hello"

One day, letting loose with more verbal abuse
She'd picked up her tomcat's excreta
To throw at their car, but she leaned out too far
And the pavement came rushing to meet her

Now, up in the sky, I'd swear I could spy
A cloud with old Violet Brown on
She'll be happy at last, with her pain in the past
And the rest of the world to look down on

Will Hames, December 2008

The Song of Sally Silverstein

2008-11-30T17:19:00.000-08:00

To say that Sally Silverstein was lacking in attraction
Severely underestimates the negative reaction
Of men who looked her way and clearly wished that they had not
A second glance was something Sorry Sally never got

But as she sat and meditated on her situation
The answer to her problem came, a blinding revelation
If Sally wanted loving, she was absolutely sure
She’d have to find a man who’d never seen a girl before

Now, fortunately, Sally knew exactly where to look
She even knew his name, because she’d seen him in a book
She’d stake her future happiness upon this firm conviction:
There really was a Tarzan, but his Jane was purely fiction

She took out all her money and she booked herself a plane
She bought a fur bikini, and a mac in case of rain
She fixed her hair with Superhold and superglued her denture
Then off she went to Africa, to find her great adventure

The road out from the airport was a mass of bikes and carts
The air as hot and sticky as a sauna full of farts
Then, climbing from a taxi cab whose doors were off their hinges
She found herself abandoned on the jungle’s outer fringes

To help her find a man who had no reason to expect her
She’d thoughtfully invested in a pheromone detector
So, twiddling the knobs and dials, and choking back her dread
She set it to “testosterone” and followed where it led

The noises from the undergrowth, they shook her to the core
A howl, a growl, a gibber and occasionally a roar
She feared they might attack her soon, but nothing ever did
For every creature, spotting Sally, ran away and hid

Then, deep inside the jungle, where the undergrowth grew thicker
She heard a certain sound that made her virgin heart beat quicker
She knew that it was Tarzan, you could hear the man for miles
Roaring through the treetops, like an elephant with piles

He landed right in front of her, and as their gazes locked
They both knew this was Destiny, and neither one was shocked
For Tarzan was a super hunk, a proper ladykiller
And Sally wasn’t bad at all, compared to a gorilla

He took her to his treehouse, where she quickly settled in
They had no need for language, just a gesture and a grin
Though Tarzan was quite messy, she was tidy for them both
He loved her beetleburgers and her fricassee of sloth

He’d come on home to Sally as the darkness fell about
And even though he’d always be completely tuckered out
From thwarting evil men with guns and swinging from lianas
She’d fiddle with his loincloth, while he dreamed about bananas

So that’s how Sally found her fate, her mate, her life’s direction
Although she knew that she was not alone in his affection
His second-favourite female had a red and blue behind
But that’s the sort of competition Sally didn’t mind

Will Hames, November 2008

One Phone Call

2008-11-29T18:54:00.000-08:00

I never meant to be so late, last evening
I had in mind to be with you by six
But the stupid car broke down, near a bar just out of town
And I had to use their phone to get it fixed

Well, the man at the garage said he was sorry
His one and only tow-truck had a flat
He'd have me on my way, but there'd be a slight delay
And the phone went out of order after that

The batt'ry needed charging on my cellphone
So there's no way I could tell you what was wrong
And I couldn't stray too far from that lousy little bar
Until the freakin' tow-truck came along

I thought of you, alone there in the kitchen
I couldn't bear to let you down again
I was choking back a tear, when the barman sidled near
And offered me a drink to ease the pain

Then some fool put a record on the juke box
That song you had for walking down the aisle
Well, the tears came flooding back, so I had a double Jack
But it took another ten to make me smile

Well, the man came with the tow-truck 'round eleven
And pretty soon he had it all in hand
Seems the widgets were to near to the differential gear...
Nah, you'd have to be a guy to understand

'Course, there's no way I could drive in my condition
So I had a pot of coffee, strong and black
Then I took off like a demon, with the tyres and engine screamin'
'Cos I knew how glad you'd be when I got back

I took a little short-cut through the playground
It's naughty, but it's never known to fail
And I would have been all right, if I hadn't jumped a light
And the coppers hadn't thrown me into jail

They've got me in a cell, down at the station
Together with a fella name of Paul
He's big and blond and German, and he sings like Ethel Merman
So I'm sleeping with my back against the wall

I never meant for all of this to happen
My penitence is pitiful to see
I'll give up drinking beer if you'll get me out of here
And, oh yeah... Happy Anniversary

Will Hames, November 2008

Steve

2008-11-21T02:13:00.000-08:00

I'll tell you a story you might not believe
But you may find it good for a laugh
The terrible tale of a fellow called Steve
Who was known as Don Juan-and-a-half

Now Steve, who arrived in the middle of winter
Was born in the house next to mine
I'd watched him grow up from a baby and into
A man, and I hated the swine

He looked at the world like he owned the damn' place
He swaggered where other men walked
He lived with a permanent smirk on his face
And he wobbled his head when he talked

He left only sadness wherever he'd been
He never took any precautions
He was vicious and greedy, obtuse and obscene
And as tight as a duck's nether portions

Well, if it's a fact that you are what you eat
It's no wonder he wasn't so pleasant
He lived on a diet of figs and raw meat
And Viagra and anti-depressant

But long was the list of the ladies he'd kissed
And the girlies who never forgot him
He said, "I'm going out with your sister tonight!"
I said, "Don't!" but he did, so I shot him

Will Hames, November 2008

Dynaman

2008-11-16T17:40:00.000-08:00

"There's more to me than meets the eye," I used to say, and yet
Just lately that's not true, and what you see is what you get
It wasn't always like this, but since early yesterday
It seems I'm stuck with acting in a mildly-mannered way

I'd like to be the dashing super-hero that I am
But when I whirl around six times and say the word, "Shazzam!"
Instead of turning into Dynaman The Celebrated
I just feel rather silly and a wee bit nauseated

No longer can I chase the bad guys, giving 'em what-for
My puny alter ego just won't alter any more
I rip my shirt and glasses off, and you can watch me grow in...
..to a skinny little baldie man who can't see where he's goin'

Whatever wrongs there are to right, I simply shake my head
And mutter, "What a pity," as I go on back to bed
Perhaps I've used my powers up by flying round so fast
Or maybe it's my medication kicking in at last.

Will Hames, November 2008

Dolphins

2008-11-12T02:44:00.000-08:00

Dolphins make bad poetry
Their verses fall down flat
For dolphins say, "i!i!i!i!"
And nothing rhymes with that

Will Hames, November 2008

The Limpet

2008-11-12T02:07:00.000-08:00

The limpet has a good, firm seat
He'd make a super jockey
But having neither hands nor feet
He'd really suck at hockey

Will Hames, November 2008

Remembrance

2008-11-11T08:58:00.000-08:00

“For those who gave their lives and fell…”
The words we’ve heard so many times before
We know them all too very well
“For those who gave their lives and fell in war”

But as we stand, heads bowed and hushed
How wrong it is to think they gave it all
Their lives were taken, they were pushed
Before they even had a chance to fall

Will Hames, November 11, 2008

Michelle

2008-11-11T04:03:00.000-08:00

My girlfriend, Michelle... "gorgeous" isn't the word!
Well, let me describe her to you
The face of an angel, the voice of a bird
And a nice little, low-cut IQ

She does as she's told and she'll never complain
And she looks really hot in a basque
And as for those questions that drive men insane...
Well, she wouldn't know what to ask

I've trained her quite well. Look around, you can tell
She keeps this place up to the mark
The cooking, the cleaning, that's down to Michelle
Hey, why keep a doggie and bark?

But where is she? She's always been waiting before
Whenever I've come home at night
Ah look, there's a note from her, pinned to the door
Wow, I didn't know she could write!

I haven't had time to decipher it yet
It's in crayon, that's why it's so big
"Goodbey and good ridence, you..." just look at that!
The way she's spelt "showvinist pigg"!

Will Hames, November 2008

Thing

2008-11-11T02:11:00.000-08:00

I found a Thing the other day and wondered what to do
Dad said, "That's fine, but it's not mine, 'cos mine's a sparkly blue."
"It's not mine either," said my Mum, "don't bring it in the house...
You see those marks? They tell you it's been nibbled by a mouse."
"It looks like one I used to have," said little Freddie Gibbs
"Oh yes?" we cried, and rolled our eyes. He tells such awful fibs
My teacher wasn't too impressed. She took the Thing away
She locked it in her cupboard and she kept it there, all day.
I'll show it to you, if you like. I'm sure you'll say, "Gee whiz!"
But just remember it's all mine. I wonder what it is?

Ugly Bug

2008-11-10T03:51:00.000-08:00

Do you know what's three inches long and hairy
With goggle eyes and funny, goofy teeth?
Its odour is quite extra-ordinary
It's feared from Timbukhtu to Haywards Heath

There may be things more ugly, but I doubt it
Its legs are green, its body's dirty black
And normally I wouldn't talk about it
It's just that there's one crawling up your back

I Could...

2008-11-09T11:46:00.000-08:00

I could eat an elephant on toast, for just a snack
I could climb an oak tree with both hands behind my back
I could whistle "Dixie" while I drink a glass of milk
I could comb a coconut until it's smooth as silk

I could spell "chrysanthemum" without a calculator
I could build a house from two short planks and a potater
I could do most anything, and I could show you how
I could tell the truth, but I'm not in the mood right now

Will Hames, November 2008

Gherkin

2008-11-06T21:53:00.000-08:00

I'm trying not to think about a gherkin
The reason isn't difficult to see
That naughty little veggie tends to make me rather edgy
With a feeling of inferiority

But trying not to think about... whatever...
Is really very difficult to do
Perhaps determination can suppress imagination
But I can never manage it. Can you?

I think I need a powerful diversion
To shift my thinking to a higher plane
And raise it to a level far above the grimy devil
And never let it sink so low again

I know, I'll think about "The Sound of Music"
The story of the family von Trapp
How Salzburg and its province fell in love with Mary Poppins
Who was climbing every gherkin. What?! Oh, crap!

Will Hames, November 2008

THE WISHING STONE

2008-11-06T09:33:00.001-08:00

I wish I had a wishing stone
I’d hold it in my hand
And every time I wanted something
Wonderful and grand
I’d find a quiet corner where,
Unnoticed by the crowd,
I’d rub my little wishing stone
And speak my wish aloud
And then, as if by magic
Something special would occur
There’s no such thing as wishing stones
Oh, how I wish there were

Will Hames, November 2008

CUCUMBER KID

2008-11-06T09:12:00.000-08:00

My sister won’t thank me for telling you how
She grew up the way that she did
For reasons I’m not going into right now
We called her the Cucumber Kid
But that was before she took up with young Dan
So dashing and daring and bold
He was all that my sister could want in a man
And he’d do anything he was told

It was easy to tell he was under her spell
He shared all her strange predilections
And, secure in the knowledge that Dan had the courage
Of all of my sister’s convictions
They’d stroll arm-in-arm round museums and zoos
The picture of heady romance
They wore matching sweaters, had matching tattoos
And sometimes they wore the same pants

Then after a while she became rather bored
He wasn’t the Dan that she’d known
She looked up old friends that she’d lately ignored
And left him at home on his own
For he’d lost all his spark and his wild enterprise
He was even more dozy than most men
So you can imagine my sister’s surprise
When she found he’d run off with the postman

He left her a note which she found when she came
Rolling in from a night on the prom
It didn’t say much, but he’d signed his full name
To make sure she knew who it was from
Now, given the chance, at the drop of a hat
She’ll tell you what Dirty Dan didagain
She lives all alone with her budgie and cat
And we call her the Cucumber Kidagain

Will Hames, November 2008

Inertia

2008-11-06T09:06:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow I’ll stop shirking and get down to steady working
It’s a nice idea of course, and yet I doubt it
My domestic life is just about to crumble into dust
But I can’t be arsed to do a thing about it

Looking round me in despair, I’m convinced this isn’t fair
And it’s nothing like the life I’d been expecting
It’s a terrible debacle, ‘cos for every job I’d tackle
There’s a hundred other things I’d be neglecting

I’m surrounded by a host of things I ought to treasure most
They require an awful lot of TLC
I can feel my spirits sinking as I sit here, sadly thinking
Shouldn’t someone else be doing this, not me?

Shouldn’t someone sympathetic, organised and energetic
Come and boldly take the line of most resistance?
I’m a poet and a thinker, born to dream and not to tinker
With the nuts and bolts of everyday existence

Yes, it leaves a nasty taste, it’s a dreadful, shocking waste
Of the talent that’s been given me by God
Am I right to feel a grudge at this unrelenting drudgery
Or am I just a lazy little sod?

Will Hames, November 2008

THE ELEPHANT

2008-11-06T08:57:00.000-08:00

It started with the elephant, as things so often do
He’d called around to see if we could spare an egg or two
Because of course, your elephant, as everybody knows
Will never go out shopping ‘til he’s painted all his toes

And polished up the ivory, and waxed his hairy legs
But anyway, we didn’t mind, ‘cos we had lots of eggs
So off he went, back down the path and through our garden gate
With two nice free-range mediums upon a paper plate

But when he reached the pavement, well, I’m very sad to say
An aardvark on a skateboard snatched his eggs and rode away.
Now please don’t think me prejudiced, I’ve quite an open mind
But aardvarks are, it must be said, all crimin’lly inclined

So shouting, “Stop that aardvark!” we gave chase, the way you do
Determined that he shouldn’t reach the safety of the zoo
We chased him through the market place and down a twisty lane
Then half way into Mothercare and half way out again

We lunged at him in unison, which never helps a bit
As anyone who’s tried to catch an aardvark will admit
A wheel came off his skateboard, so he picked it up and ran
Creating fear and petulance as only aardvarks can

But when he threw the board aside to make his burden lighter
And bolted into Morrisons, I knew we had the blighter
‘Cos now that it’s not Safeway and they’ve changed it all inside
There’s only one way out of there, and nowhere you can hide

So, moving surreptitiously to take him unawares
We cornered him between the Pringles and the prickly pears.
Well, after it was over and we’d got our breath and legs back
The elephant was overcome, so glad to have his eggs back

He took a piece of paper as he shed a grateful tear
He wiped his eyes and blew his trunk, and then he said, “Oh dear!
There’s writing on this paper. I can just make out a title.
Your name’s there in the corner. Was it something really vital?”

Indeed it was, and this is what my story’s all about
He’d turned my homework into mush. I’m hoping you won’t shout.
The ink had run incurably, no way could I retrieve it,
And that’s what really happened, Teacher.
Surely you’ll believe it?

Will Hames, November 2008

FESTIVE PARANOIA

2008-11-06T08:51:00.000-08:00

I wish to make a serious complaint
And don’t think I’m a loony, ‘cos I ain’t
You’ll have to hear me out, because
I’m getting sick of Santa Claus
He’s acting really strangely, for a saint

Now here’s the thing that drives me round the bend
Whilst shopping in the wonderful West End
I walk in any major store
And Santa’s got there just before…
He’s stalking me, the swine! This has to end!

The blighter’s with me everywhere I go
And now I dread the sound of “Ho Ho Ho!”
He accosted me in Hennes
With a bucket full of pennies
And a shaker full of artificial snow!

He always has a different disguise;
His height, his voice, the colour of his eyes
But that beard of snowy grey
Is a proper give-away
And the suit! He isn’t hard to recognise

Now I won’t have Santa laughing up his sleeve
A restraining order’s due, I do believe
You can tell that awful rotter
That he’s absolutely gotta
Keep away from me, (at least ‘til Christmas Eve)

Will Hames, November 2008

ZIBDAB THE GROOK

2008-10-11T02:19:00.000-07:00

Zibdab the Grook was an odd little fellow
His hair was bright orange, his ears were both yellow
His nose was as red as a box for the mail
His eyes were on stalks, like the eyes of a snail

His smile was the strangest thing you ever saw
Most people have two lips, but Zibdab had four!
His body was round, and his arms were so long
That his hands touched the ground as he ambled along

On feet like an elephant’s, chunky and flat
He couldn’t wear shoes, but he did wear a hat
A big one, so big he could pull it right down
To cover his face when he went into town

So there we have Zibdab, and as you’ll agree
He wasn’t the prettiest sight you could see
But animals loved him, each dog and each cat
Would beg to be stroked by this Grook in a hat

They’d wag and they’d purr and not leave him alone
He’d give them a cuddle, some fish or a bone
He’d tell them how loved and how lovely they were
And talk of his dreams as he ruffled their fur

But people… oh, people! They seemed to know less
Than the animals Zibdab would comfort and bless
They jeered at him, sneered at him, pointed and mocked
Still, Zibdab kept smiling. He couldn’t be shocked.

He could have been angry, this Grook in a hat
He could have just sulked, but he didn’t do that
He’d look in the mirror and laugh, and agree
That he wasn’t the prettiest sight you could see

One cold winter’s night, when the world was asleep
The snow fell and fell, and grew ever so deep
And early next morning, by Zibdab’s front door
Stood thirty five children… it could have been more

Determined to wait for as long as it took
They’d come to throw snowballs at Zibdab the Grook
They called through his letterbox, “Zibdab, come on!”
There was no reply. It appeared he was gone.

Then one of the children cried, “Look what I’ve found!”
And pointed excitedly down at the ground
For there, in the snow, were the chunky and flat
Unmistakeable tracks of a Grook in a hat

They followed the footprints and chanted with glee
‘Til they came to the cornfield of Farmer McFee
Where, off in a corner, beside a small brook
Building a snowman, stood Zibdab the Grook

Thirty five children… it may have been more…
Chanting much louder than ever before
Ran towards Zibdab, their hands full of snow
They gathered around him and let it all go

He laughed as a snowball knocked off his big hat
Smiled as six children then trampled it flat
Giggled as snow landed, “Splunk!” in his hair
Then everything stopped as a noise filled the air

Up in the sky, coming down to the ground
Was a huge flying saucer, all shiny and round
With purple lamps flashing a twinkly glow
It landed beside them, just touching the snow

Then out stepped a robot with lights in his head
He looked at the children and solemnly said
“I’ve come to give someone a lovely surprise,
A ride in our space ship, way up to the skies.

“The treat of a lifetime, it’s bound to be fun
But, sorry to say, we can only take one.
I know it’s all snowy, but take off your shoes
And I’ll try to work out which one I should choose

“Sit down, all the children who shout and complain
Who laugh to see others in trouble or pain.
Sit down, all the children who try to be boss
And think it’s okay to be grumpy and cross.”

The children all sniggered and shuffled with shame
‘Til one squatted down, and two more did the same
Then so many sat that the ground fairly shook
And the only one standing was Zibdab the Grook

He walked to the space ship, and what was inside?
A hundred big Grooks, with their arms open wide
They cuddled him close as their ship left the ground
Where thirty five children sat huddled around

The Grooks all discussed it and had to agree
Zibdab was the prettiest sight you could see
They flew over London
Then Paris
Then Rome
Then shot into space
Taking Zibdab
Back
Home!

© Will Hames 2008

Being Nice

2008-10-06T07:30:00.001-07:00

I was listening to Tom Lehrer's wonderfully acid song, "National Brotherhood Week" and the thought occurred to me: what if we did away with special occasions for being nice to each other, such as Christmas and birthdays, and just acted decently the whole year round? Then I thought, being human we'd need some kind of outlet for all the negative stuff, so I'd propose that we have one day a year when we're all free to be as vile and obnoxious as we can to each other. And from that came the following poem.

NATIONAL FEAR 'N' LOATHING DAY
It's National Fear 'n' Loathing Day next Wednesday
A day I always love to celebrate
From Skid Row to the Palace, we're united in our malice
As disaffection blossoms into hate

It's National Fear 'n' Loathing Day next Wednesday
The day to tell you boss that he's a swine
When "UP YOURS!" cards are sent, each one sincerely meant
The antidote to ev'ry Valentine

The time for letting rip
At the folk who get your pip
Is concentrated on this special day
So rally to the cause
You kiss mine and I'll kick yours
I never really liked you anyway

It's National Fear 'n' Loathing Day next Wednesday
But if you can't find anyone to shock
An acceptable corrective for your bottled-up invective
Is to verbally abuse the speaking clock

It's National Fear 'n' Loathing Day next Wednesday
So drain your poisoned chalice to the dregs
Pour scorn on all your foes, in vitriolic prose
All neatly iced on stale old Easter eggs

It's bound to be intense
No sitting on the fence
And soon we'll have the whole world joining in
But if you disagree
It's all the same to me
Just play along or sit on that* and spin!
(*gesture required)

It's National Fear 'n' Loathing Day next Wednesday
When ev'rybody gets his just desserts
Let's revel in revealing all the rancour that we're feeling
And tell the truth, especially if it hurts

It's National Fear 'n' Loathing Day next Wednesday
This honesty could well prove quite a strain
So our relief will be profound
When next Thursday rolls around
And we can all be hypocrites again!

Will Hames

Tomorrow

2008-10-06T03:23:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, I'll be Superman
Tomorrow, I'll be sound
Oh yes I will, and leap tall buildings in a single bound

Tomorrow I'll be dynamite
I'll take your breath away
And then I bet you'll soon forget
I've done zip-all, today

Will Hames

Return to Ignorance

2008-10-06T02:45:00.000-07:00

Oh, take me back to ignorance, the days when all was clear
When trust was easy, hope was bright, and love was ever near
When life was so forgiving of an innocent mistake
And truth was never hobbled for expediency’s sake

Oh, let me close my eyes again, pretend I’d never seen
The naked pain the world conceals from boys of seventeen
The petty, shallow callousness of those who should be bigger
Who seem to think that might is right, and fairness doesn’t figure

Oh, give me back those firm beliefs I used to speak aloud
Before I sought the safety of the acquiescent crowd
Perhaps I’d do as badly if I had my time again
But take me back to ignorance
I knew it all, back then

Will Hames

FAREWELL NOTE

2008-10-04T19:04:00.000-07:00

Your farewell note, so small and neat, it helps to reassure me
So I wouldn’t dream of throwing it away
And when I pass you in the street, you pointedly ignore me
No, you won’t be coming back to me some day
No tears are in my eyes, and yet there’s part of me that can’t forget
The magic of the times I used to share
With your multiple personae and the things that used to wander through your hair

Romantic dinners out for two, the stars, a violin and you
Were far less hazardous than eating in
I knew that I could always trust you not to rearrange the dust
You generated with your flaky skin
Now looking back, it’s hard to see what loving you was giving me
I wonder how I ever came to care
For your multiple personae and the things that used to wander through your hair

Those heady days of living free from thoughts of domesticity
The very notion put you in a coma
Resisting, as you’d always done, the slightest thing that wasn’t fun
And all attempts to limit your aroma
I’ve thrown your toothbrush in the bin, your flannel quickly followed in
Though both of them were still as good as new
And though I thought I’d never miss you half as much as syphilis
I do

Will Hames

Insurance Proposal

2008-10-01T16:34:00.000-07:00

Oh marry me, do, you incredible girl
I'll give you the stars from the sky
And be faithful to you 'til the end of the world
(Terms and conditions apply)

Good Food Guy

2008-09-29T02:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not very taken with liver and bacon
Asparagus isn't sublime
I couldn't care less for mustard & cress
It's just a complete waste of time
I don't have much fun with a burger and bun
And fries that are skinny or fat
You must be delirious, you cannot be serious,
How can a person eat that?

Fingers of fish don't make a good dish
They're not worth their space on the table
I'm not cock-a-hoop for vegetable soup
No matter how fancy the label
Forget about seafood... well, how can that be food?
Those cockles and mussels and crabs!
Curry and rice isn't terribly nice
And I can't see the point of kebabs

Italian? Greek? We had it last week
And I didn't think it was great
All olives and cheese, and as for Chinese
I won't touch a thing on the plate
Bread? It's okay in a dull sort of way
Though I hate it all smothered with jam
Don't walk off! That's not fair! You just don't seem to care
How terribly hungry I am!

Will Hames

Open Mic Pose(u)r

2008-09-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

Please misunderstand me, I’m a poet
Plain English really doesn’t play the game
I have a point to make, but my meaning’s quite opaque
If you work it out, I’ll hang my head in shame

I’m hoping you’ll be dazzled as I’m reading
The phrases no one sane could memorise
What I expect of you is to listen ‘til I’m through
And nod when I say words you recognise

Of course I’m philosophical and earnest
That has to be completely understood
But it’s way beneath my station to give clear communication
I wouldn’t do it, even if I could

I weightily intone my magnum opus
It rhymes and scans, and so it must be true
I artfully pretend that it’s almost at the end
But no such luck, I’m only halfway through

Just let the words wash over you and marvel
To think one man could be so wise and deep
And when my poem’s done, I’ll say, “Thank you, everyone”
Well, those of you who didn’t fall asleep

Will Hames

Piggy John

2008-09-27T15:24:00.000-07:00

He'd spot me in the playground and his piggy eyes would gleam
I was his special victim, someone small that he could cream
He'd take my dinner money, tread my school cap in the mud
He'd pinch me in assembly, wouldn't stop 'til he drew blood

He had a little gang of other boys he called his mates
They'd laugh at all his nasty jokes and hang around the gates
To pick on kids he singled out for ridicule and pain
So glad they weren't the targets of his bullying campaign

When it was time for second'ry, we did a little show
And teachers stood in line to say, "How sad to see you go!"
The other kids were tearful at the thought of moving on
But I just thought, thank God I've seen the last of Piggy John

Well, years went by and I grew up, and everyone I'd meet
Compared to Piggy John, would seem adorable and sweet
He faded in my memory, a ghost of way back when
But yesterday, I came across old Piggy once again

The years had not been kind to him, I couldn't help but feel
The rain poured down his collar as he crouched and changed a wheel
With hopelessness and desperation in his weary eyes
It seemed to me the guy had shrunk to half his former size

He looked the soul of misery and bitter, deep frustration
I couldn't bear to leav him in this awful situation
I quickly wound the window downwards in my brand-new Rover
Then called, "Hi, John! Remember me?"
And ran the fucker over

Will Hames