England Isn't England
Why go to war
When England isn't England any more?
I don't like to complain
Or say those soldiers died in vain,
Who died for us before;
Each hero turning in his grave
Because we didn't save
The honour he was fighting for!
Gone to the dogs,
Gone to the swine and hogs,
Who in their greed and rage
Are now Our Leaders in this Plastic Age;
Dishonouring those years,
Laughing at our fears,
Promoting their careers,
Devaluing the coinage of our heroes' tears;
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poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Papering Over The Cracks
I'm papering over the cracks
And saying I'm OK
Though I never have any sex
Or 'get my end away'.
I'm drinking far too much
(My liver's in a mess) -
It's all because of you -
I thought you'd never guess.
I know that I'm not cool -
I never imagined that,
But you treat me as a fool
'Cos I am old and fat.
I long for a tender touch -
God knows it's not a sin!
I love you far too much -
Can't you see the state I'm in?
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poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Death of a Poet
Have you heard the latest news?
Our Hero's got the blues
And he's drowning them in booze.
It's just the way he copes,
It's better than watching soaps -
He says T.V.'s for dopes!
He isn't shedding tears,
Though he could cry a river,
He's having a few beers
And ruining his liver.
They told him not to drink
(They gave him strict instructions)
What does the bloody fool think?
It's spoiling his productions!
But no-one gives a toss
About the death of a poet,
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poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Coward's Confession
I used to dream my life away,
I even worshipped Ronnie Kray!
Good or evil, right or wrong
I liked my heroes to be strong!
You may think me a bloody fool
But I was bullied at my school,
I was a weakling in those days
But then I read about the Krays.
Ron was my favourite of the two
Because he offered something new,
It doesn't matter what you say,
My idol was both strong and gay! !
A life of glamour and of crime
That has inspired this little rhyme,
It was a sort of teenage craze,
Those villains in their Glory Days! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Point of View
You're welcome to your point of view
(Even if I don't think it's true) ,
After all, I wouldn't tell YOU what to do!
In fact, I hope your faith gives you peace of mind -
I certainly wouldn't want to rob you of it!
That would be much too unkind!
What would you find instead?
No good asking me!
What was it Jesus said about the blind leading the blind?
I certainly can't bail you out,
My religion's one of chronic doubt,
But PLEASE stop these parables about 'sheep and goats'
And don't ram your religion down people's throats!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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As Fickle as Fate
Life is a gamble but you've won your bet,
She's the sweetest girl that you've ever met,
You've paid all your bills and your out of debt
And this is as good as it's gonna get!
What will it be like in twenty years?
Will your mother be there to dry your tears?
Your woman has left you and you're in arrears
And you can't find the answer in a thousand beers!
You thought that you'd really got it made,
You felt so happy when you'd been laid,
But luck has run out for you, I'm afraid,
And the King of the Castle has been betrayed!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Protest against Religious Intolerance (for Kurt Westergaard and Lars Vilks)
Beheading cartoonists? Give me a break!
Remember when witches were burnt at the stake?
In primitive ages when ignorance ruled
The Popes and the Prophets had everyone fooled!
Of course it's a fact that everyone's scared
Of a man in the East with a very long beard
And no sense of humour but a heart full of hate
Who'd snuff out compassion 'cos Allah is great.
Now jihad and fatwa are everyday threats
And weak politicians are hedging their bets
It's no time to dither and sit on the fence,
Get rid of Religion and vote Common Sense! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Haunted Song
Beneath this citadel of broken dreams
The hollow dungeons lie,
Each night you hear the awful screams
While the moon bellows in the sky.
There is no hope for Maud and me,
We know we're going to die,
No saint will come and set us free
While the moon bellows in the sky.
We've spent our love and shed our tears
And heard the angels sigh,
No-one will ever count our years
While the moon bellows in the sky.
So now you know why old men weep
And little children cry,
They block their ears and cannot sleep
While the moon bellows in the sky.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Bit of Advice to a Bit of a Stud
Are you dreaming of a new romance
Or is that a pistol in your pants?
Judging by the way you swagger
You'd think you have a RIGHT to shag her! !
She, of course, is far less willing
Unless she thinks she can make a killing,
Unless you're rich, in other words,
Which is typical of bloody birds! !
Unfortunately, you don't have a penny
So Sarah, Anne, Denise or Jenny
Will not be opening their door
Like any tart or little whore.
You'll have to offer something more
Than just a romp between the sheets
With a guy who prowls the city streets! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Alzheimer's
All of you people are deserving censure
If you laugh at people suffering from dementia!
You'll be old yourself one day,
Your limbs will be weak and your hair will be grey,
Do you think it'll be fun to be locked away?
Deprived of any dignity,
Hidden away behind lock and key?
'I'm not gonna let them do that to ME! '
Says your angry voice,
But you'll have no choice,
You may be rich but there's no guarantee
That anyone will honour your liberty,
You take it for granted you'll always be free,
But it isn't that simple, believe you me! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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