No More Painkillers

There are no more painkillers
And no more handkerchiefs to cry in,
God doesn't exist any more
So you'd better find a hole to die in.
Don't kid yourself there's a happy ending,
The party's over and they'll soon be sending
The artists and poets to an early grave
'Cos they simply didn't know how to behave,
And all the other people are going to die
A bitter death, don't ask me why,
Because God is forgotten, He was just a liar
And he'll burn like you in Everlasting Fire,
It was all a hoax, and the end has come,
Silent and deadly and utterly numb,
You won't find peace even in the tomb
If you can get there 'cos there's no more room,
Smile and be happy, this is your doom,
Because there are no more painkillers
And no more handkerchiefs to cry in! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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My Little Can of Worms

Why this obsession with someone so much younger?
This craving, this madness, this terrible hunger?
Thinking about her night and day,
Afraid some young Romeo will take her away!
You dream of her naked and wrapped in your arms,
You're a sexual slave that's seduced by her charms!
It's a shameful secret, so don't tell a soul,
Keep it locked in your mind and under control
'Cos you're totally enslaved by each changing mood
And you torture yourself as you dream and brood.
Whatever you do, this has got to end
Before you crack up completely and go round the bend,
Have a go at your wrists with that old kitchen knife
Or put it all behind you and start a new life!
Whatever you do you'll get nobody's pity
If you do something foolish 'cos the girl is so pretty! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Advice To A 'Sensitive' Boy

If you bought me a bunch of roses
I'd call you a silly fool,
Like that time you carried my satchel
All the way home from school,

But if you want to impress me
Pretend you don't really care,
Stop preening yourself in the mirror
And worrying about your hair!

Chivalrous acts are wasted
On me as a general rule,
I just think you're a sissy -
You're certainly not very cool! !

Don't write me beautiful poems
About love and your soul's despair -
You must be a fool to imagine
That someone like me would care! !

[...] Read more

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Equality Whether You Like It or Not

Take it easy! Calm down! It's gonna be alright!
No secret police in the middle of the night,
No knock on the door at four in the morning,
In good old England we'll give you fair warning.

It's a democracy here and we're proud to be free,
We just monitor your movements on CCTV,
You can trust us to practice whatever we preach,
So, say what you like, we believe in Free Speech,

Just do as you're told and sing the right song,
Remembering, of course, not to get the words wrong,
Follow your leaders and show some respect,
No-one wil hurt you if you're politically correct.

We admit there are folks with funny ideas
But their sarcastic laughter will just end in tears,
The misfits and rebels have all had their day,
What's Normal is Best, so hip, hip, hooray! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Prayer of Everyman at Christmas Tide

Do You want to come back a second time?
Your Gospel, Jesus, was in vain,
Your loving kindness is a crime,
And Your followers are quite insane!
Why should we want to be forgiven
And end up in Your boring Heaven?
Come heal our sickness, heal our pain,
And we'll nail You to the Cross again! !
Then if You try a resurrection
We'll finish You off with a lethal injection!
But don't expect our prayers or praise,
We're sick of You and Your 'mysterious ways',
We're not gonna kneel when we hear Your name
Unless You give us cash and fame!
Forget about Love and Compassion,
Forgiveness of sins is out of fashion -
If You can't fulfil our expectations
Or follow our simple explanations,
Then stop messing round with all these rules
And help us win the Football Pools! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Burning Love

'If you touch the flame you're gonna get burnt
And when you're deep in love, you'll wish you weren't.'

She's beautiful, she's oh so fine
And I really wish I could make her mine,
But the pain's too great and the tears begin,
I'd die for her, that's the mess I'm in.
I'd do anything to make her smile
And be in her good books just for a while.
Her gentle words both soothe and thrill
And the longing for her is just making me ill,
If I ever saw her go with another guy
My heart would break and I know I'd die.
You know that I want to be her slave
And I'd even follow her into the grave,
I'd do it all for less than a kiss,
Can you really believe it has come to this?

'If you touch the flame you're gonna get burnt
And when you're deep in love you'll wish you weren't.'

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Big Issue Vendor

It's funny how I kinda miss you
Standing on the corner selling The Big Issue,
Always a smile to earn some cash
Or a sorry-my-darling-but-I've-got-to-dash!
People ignoring you, some taking pity,
You're a part of the furniture in a modern city:
'Don't you think six children is rather a lot? '
'What kind of job has your partner got? '
Some people say it's money for drugs,
They give you nothing 'cos they're not 'mugs'.
So what has happened? Where have you gone?
Don't tell me, love, it really was a con! !
Perhaps you've moved to pastures new,
Found something much better that you can do,
If that's the case then I wish you well,
You've found an exit from your corner of hell,
People may blame you, the way people do,
But I'm saying nothing 'cos I haven't a clue!

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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A Cocksure Chat-Up Line (Sonnet)

I suppose my chances are virtually zero
Of ever becoming a TV hero,
But couldn't you love me anyway,
I'm young and I'm virile and I'm not gay! !

Are you so hung-up on celebrity
That you wouldn't consider a guy like me?
I'm supposed to be very good in bed
And I'll give you the ecstasy that wakes up the dead!

Have you ever had a better chance
Of a really exciting, fantastic romance?
I bet my love makes you weak in the knees
'Cos I'm truly the expert on the birds and the bees!

But if you prefer to be famous and rich
Then that's up to you, you stuck-up bitch!
Just wait till you're older, you'll come crawling to me
And beg for forgiveness and then we'll see

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poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Here Come the Tears

You need to be cool, calm, and collected
Or she'll see right through you at a single glance;
If you're weak and emotional you won't be respected -
Let's face it, Soft Boy, you don't stand a chance!

You need to chill out, give the girl some space,
Mix with your friends, relax for a while,
Stop smooching around with that long, long face,
Do something exciting to bring back a smile!

Can't you see your behaviour is driving her mad?
The way you keep ringing and being a pest,
If it wasn't so funny it would be rather sad,
So do her a favour and give it a rest!

And what is the point of your latest obsession?
You're working too hard to fulfil your own fears,
You seem quite incapable of learning your lesson,
So you'll drive her away, yes, HERE COME THE TEARS! !

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Alcoholic Blues

You're an alcoholic but not a smoker -
What else is there to say?
Your poetry is mediocre -
It's been another lousy day.

You used to think
If you had a drink
Your blues would go away -
But now you know that isn't true
So you haven't had a drink today.

Well done, old boy!
But there's no joy,
So what are you going to do?
You're dead inside, and lonely too
And bored and in despair.

Your fellow alcoholics care -
They say, 'If you choose
To turn again to booze

[...] Read more

poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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