Born in Manchester England, on 9/2/1962. Arthur still lives in Manchester. Educated to degree level in literature and philosophy. Arthur was brainwashed into a cult which he escaped from in 1985. He writes to prove that he is more than just a victim, Arthur has several articles, poems and stories in print of which a full publications list is online at http://arthurchappell.me.uk/publications.htm- just one of 1,500 pages in a very extensive website http://arthurchappell.me.uk/index.htm and he issued a very successful audio CD, Bard For Life of his poetry He has also produced a book of poetry and short stories, Dreams Take Flight. Arthur is a member of the Sealed Knot English Civil War Re-enactment Society, http://www.thesealedknot.org.uk/ which he serves as a pikeman on the field of battle. FACEBOOK - http://profile.to/arthurchappell/ MYSPACE - http://www.myspace.com/arthurchappell TWITTER - http://twitter.com/arthurchappell
JABBER WHAT? Hello Lewis, It's about Alice In Wonderland. I understand Most of it, but not this bit With slithy toves and Bomgoves I mean what the Hell! What the Heck! The nearest my computer spellcheck Offers is loaves, and stoves Slippery toads and slimy roads. Face it, Mister Carroll, I've got you over a barrel When I say its all so bloody absurd. There's no such thing as a jub-jub bird. Nothing gires or gimbles And there's no such word as burbled There's fires and thimbles And I've heard of being burgled Finally you advertise a snicker-snack We called them marathon bars back When poets wrote like William Shakespeare And not like yourself and Edward Lear. Oh yes, he's another one like you who cobbles Together whole poems with words like Pobbles That aren't really words, but you can't find the time To find a vocabulary that will easily rhyme. You're trying to find a word that goes with books But drunk as a skunk you type the word gruttocks And then you can't be bothered starting anew So you send it here to be printed out all askew. It's all nonsense and gibberish But we really need to publish Something soon, so it comes as a something of a shock To have to accept this tripe of yours called The Jabberwock. Arthur Chappell THE HIP HOP CHIP SHOP Hungry Honey? And you Sonny? Why not stop at the Hip Hop Chip Shop? We do all kinds of pies, but not French fries We call them chips. You heard me, chips. We do curry in a carton, and gravy in a try, My hand’s gone green from doing mushy peas all day You can eat in here or have a take away We’ve got a blue light that electrocutes flies But we are never going to sell no one French Fries. We call them chips. Watch my lips, I said chips. Service with a smile. Service with a song. Your fish is still frying but it won’t take long. Help yourself to vinegar. Help yourself to salt. If all that fat gives you a heart attack it’ll be your own fault. You get more off us than off the competition. Their fish got caught by the Spanish Inquisition, Well past it’s sell date, know what I mean mate? Oi, you clear off. I’m not serving you in that drunken state But I’ll serve these guys coz they’re all right Except we’re closin’ now ‘till tomorrow night, And remember, what we do is chips, chips, chips…. Arthur Chappell
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