Some Easy Reading.
A State of Fear
New Labour put in cameras
New Labour made new laws
New Labour had a big stick
To keep you all indoors
New Labour’s got no backbone
New labour’s got no clue
New labour’s got a mandate
To control all of you
New Labour’s got no conscience
New Labour has to to be right
New labour had got the secret police
To take you in the night
New Labour’s got no money
New labour’s got no skills
New Labour had no sympathy
To anyone it killed
New Labour’s got this theory
New Labour’s got this plan
New Labour’s got the need
To clone the ‘working man’
New Labour’s got The Millibands’
New Labour had Jack Straw
New Labour’s got mad Harriet
To scare you to the core
New Labour had you by the balls
New Labour had to dictate
New Labour had the power
To make you fearful of the State
New Labour’s got new leaders
New Labour’s still the same
New Labour’s task is simple
To play the same old game!
No Win No Claim
A message to employers of idiots with no brain
Sack them all before your pockets start to feel the strain.
Don’t give them a scaffold ladder to climb up the factory wall
Because, just like Humpty Dumpty, you’ll be heading for a fall.
As soon as the ladder shudders, before he hits the ground
The fire alarm installer will be worth a thousand pound.
The National Accident Helpline will receive his call with glee
Fat cats all, in pinstripes, leeching off you and me.
Invest in your foyer, put carpet wall to wall
Then you might prevent some idiot heading for a fall
Keep back your mops and buckets for cleaning out the loo
Use barriers and signs which tell people what to do.
And if some fool ignores them and falls flat on his face
Take an instant photo and weaken the idiot’s case
The National Accident Helpline will receive his call with glee
Fat cats all, in pinstripes, leeching off you and me.
They are all out there to get you; I’ll name but a few,
There are The National Accident Helpline and Injury lawyers 4U
They portray the bumbling idiot as a victim of our times
And it’s you, the business owner who is blamed for all the crimes.
It is your insurance premiums that will be going through the roof
Idiot and lawyer need very little proof.
The National Accident Helpline will receive his call with glee
Fat cats all, in pinstripes, leeching off you and me.
Confusion
Standing tall on bended knee the Squire, in peasants clothes,
Asked the maiden to marry him as she skipped by in repose.
‘Marry you? Forsooth, she said. ‘I cannot be your bride,
It is said that you prefer young men to walk close by your side!’
‘Fear not sweet maid those days are gone I am no more that way,
The witch who cast a spell on me died just yesterday.’
‘She thought she was safe in hiding but I soon found her lair,
See, here is a bloodstained lock of the evil crones black hair.’
‘I’m sorry Lord, the answer’s no, my mind you will not sway,
Especially as I saw you, ‘in flagrante’, yesterday
I believe he is a swain, a herder of your sheep,
But fear not my Lord and Master, tis a secret I will keep.’
‘Come now pretty maiden, your eyes they dost deceive,
For I was merely giving instruction before he took his leave.’
‘Instruction to serf from Master will never go amiss,
But did you have to convey it with a sloppy Kiss?’
‘You forget yourself, young maiden. Am I not your Squire?’
Asked the Aristocratic youth, suffused with angst and ire.
‘Stamping your foot my Lord will not get you your way
For I love another whom I hope to marry some fine day.’
‘You will marry me and like it!’ The chastened youth replied.
As for this other prospect, why I’ll have his hide!’
‘Wake, my Lord. You are dreaming,’ it was repeated once again.
As he was woken from a drunken sleep by the landlords daughter Jane.
DOGGEREL
(This Sums up Labour & the Tories)
Jonny Doggerel was not adverse to writing poetry
About his cat!
Not that he owned one,
But Jonny couldn’t see the irony in that.
Aunty Cedric, a cross dressing nun
Had bought him a toy one just for fun.
She had slipped out at Vespers,
On a day dank and foggy
So no one would notice a nun and stuffed moggie.
Named Dermi, by Jonny for reasons unknown
Who spent hours on the internet seeking a clone.
His mother worried
But what could she do?
He was also her brother and twenty two.
Sadly the end of this story is sad
Dermi fell foul of Jonny’s mad dad.
Who tripped over the cat as it lay on the floor
Forgotten by Jonny who had gone to the moor
to fly his new kite.
He returned full of vigour and flushed with good health
To find his stuffed cat unstuffed on the shelf.
Finally, one for the children.
Farmyard Squabbles
“Cluck, cluck, cluck,” said Mother Hen.
“Look at my chicks, I’ve now got ten!
There’s Hetty, Clarabelle, Sydney and James,
Jeffery, Susie, Mary and Maime
Then there is Donna and Chrissie as well,
Who both had a problem breaking their shell!”
“Well, I’ve got twelve ducklings,” said Dilly the Duck
“You don’t hear me going cluck, cluck, cluck!
Stop strutting around; it’s really quite rude!
And it’s not as if they’re your first brood.
Dignity dear and quiet; if you’re able,
And you may just stay off the farmer’s table!”
“Now stop it you two,” said Harriet Hog.
“My young are asleep by that log,
Twelve little piglets all pink and replete
Having a nap after something to eat;
I’m going to be angry if I hear a pig squeak
And I’ll chase you two for the rest of the week!”
“Cluck, cluck, cluck,” said Old Mother Hen
“And how will you chase me from inside that pen?
“Oh I’ll find a way, you mark my words
And I’ll take no cheek from a couple of birds!”
From the back of the sty came a mighty roar
And out ran her husband; Henry the boar.
He charged at the gate but the bolts held firm
Henry just roared and started to turn
Then he charged once again and the gate exploded
The hinges flew off and the bolts just folded
The piglets awoke and started to cry
Then ran from the log and outside the sty
“You stupid old Hog!” Shouted Henry’s wife,
“You really are the bane of my life!
Get after my babies, and then fix that gate
They’re due for a feed so don’t you be late!”
So off he went, under a cloud
The hen and the duck were laughing out loud.
‘It’s all your fault, you quarrelsome pair!’
Said Harriet under a baleful stare
That was aimed at the two mirth ridden fowl,
Now on their backs, beginning to howl.
‘Just go away and take your brood
You’re not only stupid, but downright rude!’
‘Oh, poor Mrs Piggy.’ Said Dilly the Duck.
It was then that Harriet ran amok!
Like a misguided missile she leapt from her pen
Aiming, roughly at Old Mother Hen
The farmyard was filled with feathers and dust
As the birds leapt away from The Piggy’s blood lust
Ducklings were quacking, the chicks went tweet, tweet
All of them dodging the pigs flying feet.
It took an age for the pig to grow calm
She had chased the birds all over the farm.
On weary trotters, and mouth flecked with foam
Harriet turned and headed for home.
Dilly the Duck said, ‘wasn’t that fun?
Did you see how quick that fat pig could run?’
‘Yes,’ said the hen. ‘she was in a state.
Did you see her face when the boar broke the gate?’
‘Yes, and his face when he trudged from the pen?
I can’t wait till tomorrow to do it again!’
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