ENLIGHTENMENT

Once, burdened by my mental situation

And feeling on the brink of going barmy

I thought I’d try my hand at meditation

As advertised by Guru Veeraswami

And so I went to see him, as directed

I found him on a blanket, on the floor

The man was everything that I’d expected

A loincloth and a smile were all he wore

He sat serenely, picking his verrucas

He spoke to me, his body gently swaying

And noisily recycling his mucus

As if to emphasise what he was saying

He said to me, “Your psyche is chaotic

With worries and irrational obsessions

You really need to be far less neurotic

And free from your attachment to possessions”

He told me he’d be glad to lead me into

A cure for all the follies of my youth

He asked me for my cash card and my PIN too

To prove I was a seeker after truth

He told me “Just relax and don’t be frightened

Your mind will wander every now and then

But pretty soon, you’ll notice you’re enlightened

And life will never be the same again.”

“Ignore your thoughts, wherever they are from, son

Imagine someone else is going through it

Breathe slowly in and out, while chanting “Om”, son

I’ll pop out for a bit and leave you to it”

Well, hours later, I was getting worried

My body stiff, in places rather sore

When suddenly, with footsteps quick and hurried

A man I didn’t know came through the door

He saw me there and seemed to be quite flustered

He stood as if uncertain what to do

And then he walked across to me and blustered

“I’m Guru Veeraswami. Who are you?”

My bank account’s been mercilessly plundered

And though I’m not the cleverest of men

I’ve learned a lot, and just in case you wondered

I’m never gonna fall for that again.

DAD

I must admit, you used to drive me crazy

We had our own ideas of right and wrong

But when the line between the two was hazy

And I was just as weak as you were strong

For me, there wasn’t anyone above you

You stayed there through the bad times and the good

I’m really glad I got to say “I love you”

And didn’t simply leave it understood

You took my side, whatever anyone said

And though you weren’t the easiest of men

I wish that we could share another sunset

And you could drive me crazy once again

20.11.2013

Bollocking Time

(Tune: Mull of Kintyre)

Bollocking time, I’m pissed rolling in from

The pub at half nine

My dinner’s gone cold and it’s

Bollocking time

Frost in my face as I walk through the door

What can I say that you’ve not heard before?

Surely you know that it isn’t a crime

I’ve had one little drink and it’s bollocking time

Give me a moment and let me explain

Just as I passed there it started to rain

You’re not convinced and it looks as if I’m

In the doghouse again and it’s bollocking time

Don’t waste my food, that’s a terrible sin

Scraping my dinner right into the bin

Kindly stop shouting, the kids will think I’m

Not the boss around here if it’s bollocking time

You’ve had your say and I wish you’d desist

Taking advantage of me when I’m pissed

Show some respect for a man in his prime

‘Cause it just isn’t fair that it’s bollocking time

I’ve said I’m sorry, that’s all I can do

Why can’t you see it from my point of view

Have some tequila, or vodka and lime

And you’ll see there’s no reason for bollocking time

COUSIN BRUCE

My cousin’s been staying with me for a week

It’s driving me mad, I must say

The things that he does make me holler and shriek

I hope that the bugger won’t stay

‘Cause when he’s been out with his mates for a drink

He lets himself down, a lot more than you’d think

Like combing his pubic lice into the sink

And forgetting to rinse them away

Oh cousin Bruce, why the hell did you come?

Go back to Oz; you’re a pain in the bum

He’s loud and he’s crass and incredibly rude

Whenever my friends come to call

He eats like a pig, with his mouth full of food

He’s grateful for nothing at all

It seems he’s addicted to prawn vindaloo

It’s fatal to follow him into the loo

But hey, he’s my cousin, so what can I do?

I’m banging my head on the wall

Oh cousin Bruce, why the hell did you come?

Go back to Oz; you’re a pain in the bum

And boy, is he boring! He never shuts up

He farts and he’s drunk all my tea

His favourite film is Two Girls and One Cup

That’s something you don’t want to see

I’ve had it to here, I can’t take any more

I wish I could kick his arse out of the door

And tell him “Get lost or I’m calling the law

Go home and forget about me”

Oh cousin Bruce, why the hell did you come?

Go back to Oz; you’re a pain in the bum

The Dogging Song

I could write some silly rhyme

As a way to pass the time

But it wouldn’t help me chase away the blues

I don’t drink and I don’t smoke

And I don’t understand Sudoku

And I’m running out of themes for self-abuse

So on Friday night I’ll end my week of slogging

With a pleasant way of pushing back the boundaries of shame

‘Cause I do enjoy a little bit of dogging

It’s a highly social network where nobody knows your name

On a dark and steamy night

It’s a most inspiring sight

Watching bodies slowly writhing on the ground

And the dropping of the drawers

Leads to thunderous applause

With the noise of one hand clapping all around

Yes, I do enjoy a little bit of dogging

Down a country lane at midnight, in a car or on a porch

As I give myself a very gentle flogging

With my right hand on the business and the other on the torch

If you have some time to kill

It’s a special kind of thrill

Seeing other people get their ends away

And you never notice faces

‘Cause you’re looking other places

So you wouldn’t recognise them in the day

Now please do believe me when I tell you that it

Is a harmless entertainment with no reason for regrets

But I hope my girlfriend doesn’t catch me at it

‘Cause she thinks I’ve only gone to buy some late-night cigarettes

Yes, I do enjoy a little bit of dogging

Down a country lane at midnight, in a car or on a porch

As I give myself a very gentle flogging

With my right hand on the business and the other on the torch

GRANNY’S OAK

They’ve cut down the oak tree in Granny’s back garden

The one with the humorous bulge

They carried it off without begging her pardon

For reasons they wouldn’t divulge

And even though Granny was fond of that tree

She grudgingly had to admit

Her view was improved to a startling degree

And it brightened the place quite a bit

What’s more, as our Granny’s so strictly devout

Once the woodsmen had finished their labours

She hurriedly fished her binoculars out

And proceeded to spy on her neighbours

At first they all looked quite a virtuous lot

Conventional, boring and clean

But finally, Granny found one who was not,

The fellow at Number Fourteen

Yes, now she could see what old Sammy Divine did…

Behaviour that you’d throw the book at

She told me, “I’ve always been pretty broad minded

But some things, you don’t want to look at!”

Apparently, Sam had been at it for years

With nobody any the wiser

He kept re-enacting the “Three Musketeers”

With a goat and a bottle of Tizer

The things he got up to whilst perched on a shelf

Were so shocking, she had to look twice

It seemed that the goat was enjoying itself

And that wasn’t terribly nice

When Animal Welfare appeared in the yard

Of Sam and his bearded companion

They found him disguised as the Marquis de Sade

And the goat was dressed up as d’Artagnan

But now that’s all over, there’s nothing to see

She’s found curiosity can die

She’s dug up the stump of that trusty oak tree

And planted a great big Leylandii

Will Hames

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.