Old Jim was at the pierhead
Mendicant as usual
When an old blind robber
(a business rival, Bert by name)
Came and mugged him
And took his pathetic earnings.

Bert stole Jim's begging bowl
Full of cast-off buttons
And selected pebbles
Which he was too blind to realise
Were not really coins
After all.

What a sad degraded world it is we live in:
Violent, adulterous, hypocritical slobs
Masquerading as cabinet ministers
TV entertainers and footballers;
And that's just the half of it.

Oh a hunting they will go
Those men in pink DAY-GLO,
Sitting on their horses
Ready for the courses,
Doggies yapping loudly,
Aristocrats so cowardly,
Hounds all around a-milling,
Looking forward to some killing
Of harmless foxy creatures
With pretty vulpine features.

Plagued by existence
Treat life like a privilege
So easily taken away

Faced by resistance
We Socially Distant
Asked God what to do with the pain

Now I’m being showered
Category 5
Like a hatred hurricane...

I was looking for consolation
Mixing up
The combinations

So I looked to the stars
They told me...

Its a nation been left ajar
Hearing bout a man
Shot and killed inside his car

They went to war, eyes ablaze with hope and pride
But death swept the land and took them in its stride
They loved their country and the paths were paved with gold
But Death's dark grip would soon enfold
Them in his arms and they'd no longer see day's light
They'd lie in the mud and feel the pain of the glory and the fight.

i am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
painter, but I am not. Well,

For instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting painting, I drop in.
"sit down and have a drink."he
says. I drink, we drink.I look
up. "You have sardines in it."
"yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in.Where's 'Sardines?"

Sundays ,too, my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueback cold
then with cracked hands that ached
from weather in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering breaking.
When the rooms were warm he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress.
fearing the chronic angers of that house.

They loved each other so, yet not so blind
to make no provision for death (or parting;
after all, we all need fresh meat ere long
and we soon can tire of any lover's farting).
So Jack and Jill went to a legal eagle sharp
and devised a plan to split their worldly chattels,
in the sad event their love should turn to hate
and their kisses change to vicious battles,
or even worse the Reaper might pay a call
and into their graves cause them to fall.
But they never read the small print on the deeds;

When next you're in your local fashion store
To look at all the cheapish treats galore
Try not to puke, try not to think of poo,
All the clothes are made by slaves for you.

Nike, Adidas (and every other ugly name)
Should surely make you want to blush for shame;
Apart from lacking all aesthetic taste
Can't you see they stink like human waste?

It was going to be a hot one
we heard on the radio
Another one like yesterday
and mother said; "I know"

How about we get prepared
to have a lazy day today?
We'll make our lunch right now
get the working out the way

Sheila get the potted meat
Guy open up the can
Kathy get the Mayo
and all three, we ran

Mom, can we have some pickles?
Yes, get the sweet and dill
Potato chips and bread
we set to working with a will