A New Bulb, Yesterday – a song

A New Bulb, Yesterday – a song

(Chords to be sorted in a future life, for now just use Am/F followed by C/D/G)

You put a new bulb in yesterday;

it was a coloured bulb, not white;;

and now I really have to say,

that things have changed, been rearranged,

and things just don’t seem right –

why did you do that?

I never thought you would,

never thought you might…

You put a new bulb in yesterday,

it was a coloured bulb, not white;

and now, I see you,

in a different light.




What is old now

once was young;

what is young now,

may end up old;

Mao Tse Tung

(if he were still alive)

would be even older

than he was

when he did thrive.

From The Viewpoint of the Garden

From The Viewpoint of the Garden

Leaves and clouds and sky and stuff,

like my words and rhymes

the weather can be rough

or smooth;

and I can either move to the groove

or shelter from the storm

(or the excessively warm)

in the garden

where the pottery of poetry

is often found

by looking skywards

at the ground.

Demon Library: Where Angels Fear To Read

Demon Library: Where Angels Fear To Read

For fools rush in

and knock over a stand,

a floral display, a waste-paper bin;

loiterers loiter (as is their wont)

by the sign shouting “Silence!”

and only returning

from whence they came

at cloning time.

A book upon the Mafia,

once taken out,

remains taken out.

And the crumbs of information

gleaned from the Reference Section

are a scant comfort to readers

far and wide.

In the Out @Morrisons

In the Out @Morrisons

In the Out @Morrisons

In the out,

in the out,

you’re coming in the out;

there isn’t a single doubt

that you’re coming in the out.

And you’ll probably go

out the in

when you’ve been in

and seek to travel out.

“Hello, Little Leaf.” (Please sing this A Capella)

“Hello, Little Leaf.” (Please sing this A Capella)

Hello, little leaf,

Have you lost your way?

Are you far from home,

in the breeze blown away?

Hello, little leaf,

is it you once again?

Or is it your leafy friend?

The New Jacobite Revolution.

The New Jacobite Revolution.

A man stopped me in the street this morning and asked me if I’d like to be a Stuart; ‘well.’ I said, ‘I’m quite happy being a Graeme.’

‘No!’ he said. ‘I meant a steward!’

‘Oh!’ I said. ‘I understand now, not a Stuart; you don’t want me to take part in the new Jacobite revolution – do you?’ I asked hopefully