I had cause to question if I was suited to a “posh” university like Durham as soon as I landed there.

It was Freshers’ Week and there were any number of events planned to welcome us.  One was a meet-‘n’-greet for our hall corridor.  But let me say from the off that Durham, viewing itself as Britain’s third best university,  didn’t have halls of residence but pretentiously aped Oxford and Cambri...

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Awaiting a leader

They have to be red

One more useless bleeder

Momentum have have said;

A saint-like left winger

Like Corbyn or Benn

Ensuring that we will get

Shafted again.

Be gone now, Lord Jezza

Who asked you to stay?

Fuck off at your leisure

You’ve outstayed your stay;

But true to your image

We’ll spurn moderate men

 Ensuring that we will get

S...

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(A re-post of a re-post. But you can't get too much culture)

My Santa you will never see upon your Christmas card,

The counterpart of Pere Noel: his brother, Pere Fouettard.

I know if I’m a good girl that his presents will be mine;

Le Pere Noel will visit me, avuncular, benign.

But if I’ve let my standards slip and been a naughty gel

There will be no Christmas gifts fro...

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I’ve been reading Bill Bryson’s “The Body: A Guide for Occupants” recently and I’ve come to appreciate what a wonderful and complex construction of engineering, plumbing, dynamics and signalling the human body is and, at the same time, how little we understand of its workings.

Consider, for example, that you are composed of billions of atoms, each and every one of them completely inert and life...

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I voted for Labour

My faith didn’t waver

But we fell out of favour

It came to pass.

We lost the election

On closer inspection

We lost the connection

With the working class.

It’s been a disaster

To Blyth from Doncaster

Across to Lancaster

But who is to blame?

We all failed to heed a

Warning that we’d a

Weak useless bleeder

Who’d bring us this shame.

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Move your sweet lips closer to the microphone

And admit this second chance you’ve also blown

You should concede you have indeed made a poor show

Admit defeat; (best not to bleat)

You’ll have to go.

We were presented with a choice of the Hard Left

So let Boris get away with daylight theft

The Right now cackle at his debacle; they jibe and crow

He’s brought us tears for ...

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(A repost from earlier this year.  But worth repetition.  I'll just leave it hanging here for election week)

"I am Boris Johnson; now my story shall be told;

I have plundered an existence, positioning myself to my advantage";

“All lies and jest”;

Still you pricks hear what you want to hear and disregard the rest,

Denying any part in Britain’s mess.

On the rostrum stands...

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(With an enormous nod to Alex Glasgow's "Lovely Little Lucy")

Bumbling Boris Johnson is surrounded by his lies

That he cannot lie straight in bed should come as no surprise

Cos he’s a liar

He’s surrounded by his lies.

The Times sacked him for making up a quote with bogus words

And Brexit has been stuffed by those “French turds”.

 “We shouldn’t spaff good brass i...

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(Purists will see that I have shat on the convention of the villanelle)

Wise men down the ages will often proclaim

As scholars of Cicero do

“The more that it changes, the more it’s the same”.

Great empires have risen as their zenith came

But nadir would always ensue

“The more that it changes, the more it’s the same”.

The torch of hegemony may brightly flame

But stutter...

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At 18 years old I could run the one lap

Of 400 metres in one minute flat;

These days I’ll tell you I flew like a bat

Quicker than Usain because

The older I get, the better I was.

My qualifications don’t do much for me

But I could have completed a Masters degree

Instead I accomplished 2 GCSE’s

But I could have been Einstein because

The older I get, the better I was.

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I have a little business, a start-up at this stage

And I employ four employees and pay a decent wage;

We work a steady 5-day week; right now, the business pays

But soon I’ve got to cut their time so each can work 4 days,

But not reduce their weekly pay; so if we want to thrive

And turn out goods just like before I’ll have to take on 5.

But this will raise my wages bill by 1/5 mor...

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I think I may have stumbled across a solution to the thorny issue of Brexit all by myself.  It came to me after a recent rash of political leaders broke out around Donny.

Apparently, when she was visiting Stainforth Jo Swinson told victims they should apply for EU Emergency Funding.

“We voted OUT!” she was told.

And you can see the problem.  It would be hypocrisy on a gargantuan scale for...

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(I watched this couple in a cliff-top restaurant overlooking the sea near Bournemouth a couple of years ago)

She laughs

Enthusiastically

And a second or two

Too long;

She wears a top by Versace

And has Raybans on her head;

The man is older

And looks like money,

Wants to look like money;

She looks at him

Over her empty latte

Always at him;

He looks at the...

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(It's that time of year again.  An original of mine stolen from me by Malvina Reynolds when she made her far inferior version called "Little Boxes", sung and made famous by Pete Seeger)

Little Bastards, trick or treating

Little Bastards bloody cheating

Gave them sweeties, gave them money, gave them popcorn when they came

Little Bastards, trick or treating

Little Bastards need a...

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A simple enough concept and one the impenetrable Mrs C uses with my complete support as an aid to purchasing.

So here’s how it works.

The lovely Mrs C (she might read this) stalks the rails of Age Concern or Scope or somesuch and holds up a garment for me to look at as though my thoughts are the slightest bit relevant.

“How much?” I occasionally ask.

“£6” she might reply.

“Will you ...

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I’m in support of Wetherspoon’s and like their policy

Of refills of their coffee cups, unlimited and free;

I’ll order coffee at the counter, soon as I arrive

And gladly copper up the cost of just £1.25;

But then to my advantage I adapt a plan covert,

Cos when I’ve drained my coffee cup I give it to Our Gert

And she then gets the refill in the cup that I have had

But when ...

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I’m busy making plans for Nigel

If I don’t this will prosper him

I need to make some plans for Nigel

If not my prospects seem quite grim.

I’m busy making plans for Nigel

If I don’t get this deal done

Yes, I am terrified of Nigel

Cos he will have me on the run.

I don’t give rat shit for that Corbyn

The nation knows he Putin’s pet.

He might just beat off Swins...

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(A re-post from a couple of years ago.  I don't care who I target)

Remoaners, dull droners, like fleas that just buzz in your ears

With whingeing and bleating and sobbing and crocodile tears

They won’t take no note of

The will of the voters

Insisting that they still no best

Despite democratically

And quite emphatically

Failing the ballot box test.

Remainers, co...

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(A re-post from some years ago and one which owes a debt to Dave Bradley who referenced something like this in a Discussion thread.  I have chopped it into little lines for the purists among you.  Personally, I see it as prose).

The Dream-Spinner held aloft his prize.

The vanquished fled from the yurt.

Cheku growled his disdain.

Three times Cheku had held aloft

The sacred ...

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(A re-post from a few years ago)

I dreamt you were little again;

We were walking through Filey in rain;

You looked so cute in

Your first romper suit;

I dreamt you were little again.

Your mittens were tied through your sleeves;

Your red wellies kicked through the leaves;

Your new woolly bonnet

Had fake fur upon it;

Your mittens were tied through your sleeves.

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I bought a pair of denims back in ‘63

You couldn’t help but notice they were tight

Better known as drainpipes to you and me

To get ‘em on they put up quite a fight;

They called them “Shrink-to-Fit”s and so us men

Wore them in the bath these proto-types

They cut me near in half around the abdomen

I confess I looked a twat in my pipes.

Salvation was at hand though w...

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(But not this time.  A rare success. A piece I wrote a few years ago)

Not that it’s a recognised event, of course, but I’m contemplating entering our Tuesday Pub Quiz Team for the 2020 Olympics.

Bear with me while I digress a little but at the 2012 London Olympics the Men’s 4 x 100m Relay Team was disqualified for dropping the baton, handing it over outside the transition area, running ...

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Newsflash

May 7, 2031

Greta,

the world’s last surviving female orangutan,

died yesterday

at New York’s Central Park Zoo.

Two other orangutans,

both male,

are still live in zoos

in Paris and Beijing;

Greta’s death

marks the end

of further possible procreation

and signifies

the official extinction

of the species.

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Eton boys they have the world before them

They think that they can take just what they want

It’s been a part and parcel of their breeding

Ever since they got splashed in the font;

Eton boys have had their passage paid for

They’re born with winning tickets in their hands

Fast-tracked for the greasy pole’s top platform

While grafting never features in their plans;

T...

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(Afficionados will recognise the now defunct Vaynol Tunnels connecting Angelsey to the solid bit)

A rare choice of subject, I will agree.  But let me set some context, both macro and micro.

On a world scale many of my toiletry appointments have coincided with historic milestones.  Urgency has seen me miss JFK’s assassination, Geoff Hurst’s last goal in the World Cup, the moon landings, ...

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It wasn’t a thing that I’d celebrate

When Thatcher was finally rubbed off the slate;

The dummies who did should recalculate

Cos you’ll know if you’re keeping the score

You’ve moved up the queue by one more.

I started in life at the back of the queue

With billions in front but behind just a few -

An innocent sproglet that hasn’t a clue

But before you’ve been dunked in t...

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One of the pleasures of retirement is being able to take holiwags whenever we want.  No need to choose school holidays when prices are inflated and, worse still, there’s loads of lousy rotten kids about.

Besides cruises and package hols we make the most of our caravan.  It follows that, off-peak, the other caravanners tend to be old gits like ourselves; indeed, we are frequently the youngest on...

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There is a little band of people that I constantly wish dead.  But it’s growing.

It comprises several who are still vertical and a small number who have already been promoted to glory.

Be assured, I don’t do anything physically to bring their deaths about (-this is, after all, not America-) but simply enjoy the satisfaction of it happening when it does.

And let me say from the get-go (and...

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I lied to the Queen’s the allegation

In Parliament’s prorogation

I lied to the rest of the nation

I fought the law and the law won

I fought the law and the law won

The verdict of the court wasn’t close run

Eleven in favour and Against None

I acted like Attila the Hun

I fought the law and the law won

I fought the law and the law won

I thought I’d win when the...

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“What did you do, grandad,

To save the world from dying?”

”Ashamed to say I ridiculed

The little kids for trying”.

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I share with you

that many have compared

my poetry to Dylan’s.

I feel the need however

to qualify that they were referring

to the former England rugby captain

Dylan Hartley.

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(An oldie from my back catalogue.  Mondays are doubly enjoyable when it's the first day back at school)

The replacement hip Gives me some jip

And my Tens just overflowed

I need Deep Heat For arthritic feet

In winter when it’s snowed

And drivers reprimand me

For shuffling across the road

But I still have reason To enjoy each season

For the rest of the time I’m owed.

...

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(First he asked the President to dissolve the Reichstag. Then he banned opposition parties.  Finally he introduced the Enabling Act to allow him to by-pass the Reichstag)

The crowds they cheered him joyously

“With one great leap we will be free”

It was the start of things to be

When Hitler brought the House down.

“Let’s end all this procrastination”

Spake the volk of ha...

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We trudged round Designer Outlet

A day full of dull misery

I’d sampled a few cups of coffee

Which meant that I needed a pee.

I nipped to the public convenience

And read all the ads on the wall

Avoiding the one on Viagra

(A bloke was in the next stall).

But then as I left the urinals

I heard from the Ladies next door

The sound of a Dyson Airblade

Making its motorise...

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So like I was telling you, I’ve always considered myself as something of a MOTW but recent events have shown that even I can always find something new to learn.

Take Ben.  He’s just started working on a cow farm and he was telling us about how the cows were inseminated. 

“By the bull” I hear you say; and, strictly speaking, you’d be right.  But not normally by the farmer’s bull.

See, he b...

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We all know the sketch, of course – a scene in the Nag’s Head where Trig is extolling the virtues of his depot broom.  “This old broom has had 17 new heads and 14 new handles in its time”.

Oh, how we laughed.

What is less obvious is the profound metaphysical point he was making.

It’s reckoned that every cell in the human body dies and is replaced within a seven year period.

So just lik...

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(I'm in!)

Born too late to get a pension

It’s postponed and in suspension

Till 68

Why were you born too late?

Born too late for rock n roll n jive

It won’t be paid at 65

Just great!

Why were you born too late?

Born too late unlike this lucky sod

I’ll get my OAP, thank God

I can’t wait

I wasn’t born too late.

I’m born in time to get a pensi...

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(Been thinking)

It came to me in a flash. Or rather, a slash.

How old men seem inexorably drawn towards wearing beige and then how unsuitable that is, given their lack of equipment control and subsequent piss stains down their front.

So (PATENT PENDING) The Slash Apron.

Made of pliable and washable but impervious plastic, when not in use it tucks neatly inside your kecks where it ...

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I’d always associated these with youth, mostly as a milestone marking the transition from child to adult.  Menstruation in girls, boys’ voices croaking.  Or it might be drinking your first pint or your first kiss.

But not exclusively so.  Further along the ageing path would come the menopause or wearing beige.

But it had always been a source of pride for me that I had got to the age of 67 an...

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(Four years ago there was a news story about a young Palestinian boy who was snatched from a protest and beaten to death by Israeli police. Shocking as that is, they also smashed the phones of witnesses who tried to call an ambulance and sipped coffee while he died.  A re-post)

We snatched this dirty Arab boy when he was throwing stones;

He looked so fucking funny making all his moans a...

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If she isn’t dead by now she’ll certainly be redundant.  Who’d pay 2/6d to see her at Goose Fair when you can stroll down Donny High Street every sunny day of the week and see any number of that fine town’s sisterhood showing off their disfigurements.

Of course, whether a doxy chooses to blight her body with permanent ink or supernumerary orifi is entirely her ownership; as is the right to call...

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(A re-post from 2013.  Prompted by a line from the Edward Rutherfurd novel "London" and set in the Bronze Age)

“For these” said the father, “are the things a boy should know.

The gut for its twine, the yew for the bow

The paths through the woods where the spirits go

To gauge with the eye through their hips and breasts

The choice of a wifeman where the seed will sow

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(A re-post from a couple of years ago. But how fashions come round again! It was prompted by the joker who approached Theresa May at the rostrum of the Tory Party Conference to give her a P45, claiming Boris had sent her.  How Boris must "love it when a plan comes together"!)

Cammie called George when he got the word

He said “ I suppose you’ve heard about Boris?”

George rushed to the...

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It was a much more sophisticated approach than the ancient way but had its roots there.  The druid would only go on the physical appearance of the new-born child before deciding whether to strangle or bless it.  Physical appearance betrayed physical disability – cleft palates, crooked limbs, hunched backs, splayed feet, mishapen heads. 

It was this very provenance, though, which lent the proces...

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(I've always felt this site lacked a poetry and recipe fusion post.  Here's one from the Lumpwood King)

For those of us that barbecue we sometimes find we wish

We might forego the pork or lamb and barbecue some fish;

But this is problematic; you’ll find this once you start

Cos tasty though as most fish is it’s prone to fall apart;

Now remedies are possible; it could be wrapped ...

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Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than comfortable with others enjoying a sexuality different from my own.  Whatever pleasure anyone wants to get out of their willy or their fanny is entirely fine by me.

No.  It’s the silliness of the nomenclature which I ridicule.  How many people would know what “LGBTQIA+” stands for without googling it?  Not many, I bet.

And, I’m told the “Q” stands for “Queer...

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(Hendrix would be envious indeed of these incomparable guitar skills)

Hey Bo! You made your name playing the clown now

But Hey Bo! I heard you shot your rivals down now

So Hey Bo! Like a king you’ll pick up the crown now.

Achieved with nothing, not a bean, in your head now

Hey Bo! You’ve made the dailies centre spread now

Your Party’s shafted Hunt – they’ve gone for you...

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(Spare a thought for us retired old folk in this hot weather)

Bligits. Bligits. Everywhere.

In your ears and in your hair.

In the garden while you doze

Bligits in your ears and nose.

Bligits in each orifice

It isn’t all retirement bliss.

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(Selby Abbey celebrates its 950th anniversary this year.  A tribute)

I know the Abbey well enough; I worked there for a while;

I’ve walked its length a thousand times – the nave, the quire, the aisles.

I know its features through and through; I’ve shown them to our guests;

Each visitor has favourites – the things they like the best.

They come from near, they come from far, from...

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(I cannot, in truth, blame Boris.  He is a liar.  Everyone knows he lies.  He lied about Brexit.  Everyone knows he lied about Brexit.  But no-one who voted for Brexit accepts they were lied to.  Or, if they do, they don't care.  And that is far worse).

I am Boris Johnson; now my story shall be told;

I have plundered an existence, positioning myself to my advantage;

“All lies and jes...

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