Wodehouse and Holmes Society poem

As a member of the PG Wodehouse Society, and a new member of The Sherlock Holmes Society of London, my loyalties in the annual Cricket match between the societies have become worryingly divided... So much so that I decided to pour all my frustration and worry into my art, and those lovely people at Wooster Sauce, have published it for me... It is hopefully going to appear in the Winter edition of the Sherlock Holmes Journal as well.

Hope it is enjoyed by all:

London Olympics 2012

Wow, Has it not been a long time since I Blogged? Well it could have been longer, maybe I could have left it a day, or a month, or a year... Is there anyone analysing my time on this Blog?

Well anyway I've had nothing to say... Still haven't if truth be told, but I will post a poem that I have written especially to commemorate the Olympics in London 2012... I hope it is enjoyed.

London 2012

The Olympic Games from London
Start tonight at Twelve Past Eight.
I’ll be in front of the TV
And I won’t be a second too late.
I thought that they’d start yesterday,
But they did not arrive
And I got to the TV early,
At least quarter past five.
I sat there all the night
Flipping channels just to see
The Olympic games from London
Opening ceremony.
My Mother says I’ve misunderstood,
But the signs they clearly state,
London Games: 2012, although
It doesn’t mention a date.

Performance of my Poetry

My Dentist

Bigger Than John Lennon?

A totally un-Topical Poem.

John Lennon once said that 'The Beatles were more popular than Jesus Christ' He has often been misquoted as saying 'Bigger than Jesus Christ' I have therefore written this verse about it.

Jesus entered the club
And to the microphone he went.
He hushed the crowd and said
“I’d like to make an announcement.
Despite of what he said
I’m bigger than John Lennon
John was only 5 foot ten
Whereas I’m 5 foot eleven.”
“But,” replied a punter,
“Far be it for me to disagree,
But, John Lennon said, The Beatles
Together, bigger than you they would be.
And, correct me if I’m wrong,
If on each others shoulders they got
Looking down on the top of your head
They would be, would they not?”
Jesus thought about this and realised
“Oh no that is true,
But I’m the son of God I can’t be wrong.”
And before our eyes he grew.
That’s right a miracle was performed
In front of the clientele
And said, ‘take that Mr Lennon
Ringo, George and Paul as well.’
Then Jesus before he left,
The Barman he did thank
And he turned the bottles of Evian
Into Sauvignon Blanc.

My Dentist

A bit of Poetic Humour for you...

My Dentist

My Dentist was in a boyband
Before he studied teeth
And, believe me, now he’s a dentist
It really is a relief.
You see the boyband he was in
We’re one of the worst around
A review described them as Awful,
With a really horrible sound.
Whenever they’d perform live
You’d hear the audience say
“Please stop them someone, someone please
Make the noise go away.”
They realised this and they split up
And he went off to train
To be a dentist where he
Produces a lot less pain.
So everyone’s pleased he’s no longer
A member of that boyband
As he’s a lot less feared now
Even when he has a drill in his hand.

No Excuse

My, it has been a long time since I've Blogged... And I have no excuse as to why...

It's not as if I can use the excuse that I have nothing to say, as I never have anything to say... most of my blogs are about nothing in particular...

Although there is lot's going on in my life at the moment... Many Stand-Up gigs and I have a full Children's Books Festival coming up in October...

Oh well I'll try and do better in future... Any way, I've been messing around with a digital camera and this is what I have come up with...

Hope it is enjoyed...

Dangers of Living in Dublin

So, I am now a resident of Dublin’s Fair City where the Girls may be pretty but the Soap Opera that has taken its name from the song is terrible, probably the worst programme ever viewed on a television screen… But that really is beside the point… So what is the point I hear absolutely no-one ask?

Well this is just a blog to tell anyone who stumbles onto my words that I have moved to Dublin in the last week and I am enjoying it so far… Hopefully the artistic side to the City will open up more for me and my wife now…

Although we have already had one scare whilst living in Dublin… Last Sunday, our first day in Dublin, we decided to go into town and watch ‘Indiana Jones’ (excellent film but that is not important for this blogs purpose) and we were sitting on the last Dart home when there came an announcement telling us that the train will be waiting there for a while to accommodate the Concert goers, ‘Concert Goers?’ I wondered, ‘Who are these concert goers’ asking the same question to my wife who also didn’t know I suddenly remembered that Westlife were playing at Croke Park and I became panicked at the thought of the train being descended on by a whole group of Mad Hyper-upped Westlife fans… I started to run up and down the carriage screaming in panic until my wife told me to sit down and stop over-reacting… After 20 minutes the train left with absolutely nobody getting on, I let out a relieved sigh and realised I was safe… I also came up with the conclusion that Westlife fans do not use public transport and are therefore bad for the Environment, why Aren’t Madonna and Al Gore campaigning to ban Westlife? (Just a joke)

Anyway, looking forward to living in Dublin… In honour of the start of the Euro Championship today, I include a football poem with this blog.

Frank Zachary Frumpet

Frank Zachary Frumpet flew to France
To see his Favourite Football team play.
It cost him a lot of money
To fly over for a day.
It was the first leg of a European game
And his high hopes were held.
He’d been resting his voice for the past two days
So clear instructions could be yelled.
He fed on frog legs and fish
Before finding his way to the ground.
When he got there he thought it was strange,
As he couldn’t hear any sound.
He found someone he could ask
And said, ‘I hear no sound at all
Where’s the traffic and the fan’s
Who paid to see the football.
The man replied, ‘But Monsieur
A mistake you have clearly made
The first leg is in England,
Here’s where the second leg’s to be played.
Your journey need not be wasted,
Now you’ve the perfect opportunity
To use this mistake to your advantage
And see some more of my country.’
So Frank he took a holiday
And more of France he did see
But he knew that from now on
He’d check his tickets more carefully.

How Low can Reality TV go?

Living With Lucy, is RTE's latest attempt at taking License payers money and flushing it right down the drain...

This week the Talent Vacuum that is Lucy Kennedy is living with, we are told by the trailer for the programme, The 'Sensational' Jade Goody... That's right, RTE are paying someone to write that and to say that word.

We already have on our screens a programme where 'Celebrities' are given the task of managing a GAA team against other 'Celebrity' managed GAA teams... This idea came from a journalist called Fiona Looney and she is sooooo proud of this idea she seems to be all over the programme telling us about it...

Well I'm sorry I do not believe that coming up with an idea for a reality TV show is that impressive... Take this for example. Celebrity Dog Salon, A 'Celebrity' has to go on a training Course on Dog Hairdressing, on completion of this, they have to go to the Dog Pound, find the most dishevelled dog that they can and transform it into a wonderful example of a Groomed Dog, competing against other Celebrity Dog Groomers... There that idea took me at least ten seconds to come up with...

Still not convinced? OK well I'll put a bit more work into the next attempt and I'll even put it into rhyme for you...

How Low Can Reality TV Go?

Hello, everyone my name is Jim
I'm your presenter here today,
For this Brand New TV Show
And I'd just like to say,
It's a pleasure meeting all of you
And I do hope it's not fleeting,
We hope you all will stick around
And watch Celebrity AA meeting.

That's right 6 Alcoholics,
Who are Celebrities as well,
Would like for you to vote for them
So they can win a rehab spell.
They're going to explain there reasons
Why they're drunker than the rest,
And you'll phone a specific number
To vote for who deserves it best.
So without further ado
Put your hands together please
As now I will be taking you
To meet the celebrities.

<1st Celebrity>
Hi, I am a Footballer
Who has gone off his game
So please send me to rehab
As The Bottle is to blame.

<2nd Celebrity>
Hi, I told the press about
My affair with a footballing star.
I started to drink so I could get press,
So get me more and away from the Bar.

<3rd Celebrity>

Hi, I'm a pop-star who had a number one
Around 9 years ago or 10.
So please send me to rehab.
So it can be released again.

<4th Celebrity>
Hi, I'm a celebrity
From another reality show.
And I want to go to re-hab
As it seems like a cool place to go.

<5th Celebrity>
Hi, I am best mates with
A guy from a wicked Boyband.
He became a drunk, So I did too,
As I have to follow him you understand.

<6th Celebrity>
Hi, My dad was famous
That's what I have to Claim
I've got nothing else to do but drink
And live off my old man's fame.

So that's it you've heard it now.
6 Celebrities, 6 reasons to get clean.
We'll go over all their reasons again
And again from now and between
The end of the show. But remember
If you have a favourite that you want to rehabilitate
Phone us before the lines close
As we'll make no money if you phone too late.

So RTE, like my ideas?

Poetry Now Festival

Had an exceptionally wonderful Poetry Now Festival, if anyone is interested, even if you aren't it was still a success. A very different experience to other festivals I've done. I was on a bill, it was in a theatre, I was required to attend a sound-check ½ an hour before my performance.

Myself and George Szirtes read to around 300 extremely well-behaved 8-11 year olds who asked questions and were exceptionally enthusiastic… Overall it was fantastic seeing so many Children into poetry and enjoying the experience… Comments were made on this subject by the many festival organisers and the whole programme, lasting weeks, was put together by Children's Author Lucinda Jacob, who did a wonderful job… My poems about football went down really well, although not the fact that I support Tottenham Hotspur...

On the first night we got there, we joined all the other poets and the various organisers, judges etc, for a wonderful pre-arranged dinner, talking with poets and thinkers, I felt quite out of place, but the food was nice. Then we attended Ruth Padel giving the keynote address regarding the importance of the tussle between thought and sound that is the heart of a poem.

My reading was the following day in the morning, and afterwards I was feeling exceptionally good, that not even certain attitudes of some panel members in the live debate, 'Who reads Poetry Anyway' could depress me. There were some unfortunate attitudes about young people not being important in the future of Poetry amongst other things…

We had our second poetic ensemble meal at the GastroPub on Friday afternoon… It was a very pleasant experience apart from the fact that Cork born poet Bernard O'Donoghue kept pinching my wife's chips…

The Festival ended for me by seeing Seamus Heaney and CD Wright read, Smoking a Cigar and chatting to various people in the bar, Sleeping, eating breakfast and then leaving the hotel and cursing the fact that we weren't staying for the Saturday and Sunday to see more readings/events.

The festival was a wonderful experience where myself and my wife met many wonderful people and was topped off with a wonderful reading to the Children…

Of course the Panel aren't the only people to be dismissive of poetry for Young people, The Irish Times, who are associated with the event, had an article on Thursday about the festival without any mention of the Children's reading. Maybe the Journalist, Fiona McCann, felt poetry for Children, especially comic/nonsense verse, was beneath her to mention… Who knows?

Poetry Now

Friday 4th April 2008, is the day that I will be doing my reading as part of the DLR Poetry Now Festival (www.poetrynow.ie). That’s right, it’s getting closer and I have been looking forward to it since I found out about it in January…

Therefore there is something ironic about the title of the festival… It is indicated within the title that the Poetry should be straight away… Right Now… no waiting… yet I have been looking forward to this for almost three months now and my anticipation has been getting higher and higher…

As my life is one long search for irony, I have decided that I am going to commemorate this in verse and present it to the Children I read to as part of the festival… I will put it as part of my blog when this has been achieved…

For the time being I will leave you with the following poem…

Miniature Melanie from Melton Mowbray

Miniature Melanie from Melton Mowbray
May have been small but she could really play
A mean game of football. She played in the park
With her friends, Michael, Matthew and her brother Mark.
More and More people came to join in,
But they’d get upset as her team always did win.
And they couldn’t believe that this small female
Showed such great skill that they all did fail
To take the ball off her, she just couldn’t be caught,
If she was in danger, as a last resort,
She could run through their legs, due to her size
And she’d be away before her opponent would realise.
But the fact that her team was always triumphant
Didn’t always work out the way Melanie did want
Sometimes no one would turn up at all
And all she wanted to do was to play football.
So she goes home and is upset,
But she has a plan that she uses to get
The boy’s playing football with her again,
She plays really badly on purpose and then
They are all happy and after a while
Melanie decides it’s time to turn on the style.
She plays really well and it always does seem
That the best team to play for is Melanie’s team.
But the other team soon get fed-up of losing,
So not playing football’s the decision they are choosing.
So Melanie play’s badly again and I think it’s a shame
That she has to do this just too get a game.

A poetic example

An example of the sort of work I write poetically...

Raining In The Library

How on Earth can this possibly be?
It’s raining in the Library.
How can this be happening?
Whoever heard of such a thing?
It shouldn’t rain when you’re indoors,
But in this Library it pours.
Now all the books they will be wet
And the readers will be so upset.
Who would have thought that you would be needing
An umbrella when you came in to do some reading?
I don’t know how this is, to tell you the truth,
Maybe there’s a hole in the roof.
I really, really can’t explain,
Why in this Library it does rain.
Maybe it’s my imagination.
Maybe that’s the only explanation.
But until I’m sure the rain has stopped.
Under the table is the position I will adopt.