The Mob's Call

The words that thinkers loud in me 
Illusive eureka moment, momentarily with sparkle  

Holds me down like the mob with connections 

Serving a protection racket enforced 

Sending me on a course close to insanity 

For a pen and a paper cannot sit idle 

Long enough without my inscription scribble 

To off load and fill a sense of relief, brief 

Absent realism, escape this unwanted 

In search of immortality as legacy dreamt of 

As trade to give this present day as pay cheque   

As an exchange to a loan from a loan shark 

Wanting pay before returns of investment 

So passion, addiction, obsession 

All come in, to claim a part of the day 

While the rest of  day becomes loose change  
In days dream, the mobs keep calling 
My addiction is relentless 

A Complex Simple Matter

Subject to an opinion an eye sees 
Subject to the fact that hose pipes lay empty 
And the grass turns brown in protest-station   


Subject to there being a lack of 
Gosh!! aqua pulled a Houdini on grass  
Subject, subject, to the scenario laid 


A conundrum besiege thee 
Wise men gathered "taken" to court 
Called upon to manifest meaning 


As the tap laid open with frustration   
At the end no flow of riches 
Co-meth hose pipe empty to spray 


So what gives; are we to sacrifice again 
To serve the gods, "the gods" 
How many more times, to serve the gods 


Some meat from farms 
Are meant for feed of feast 
At the king's court, so what gives 


So what gives, between farm lands 
And the fountain of river flow 
Why is the hose pipe empty 


On observation the child of young 
Spots a cut in the hose pipe before grass lands 
But the wise of old would not lend ears to hear  


The wise of old, in the king's court, privileged and "cling" 
As such they were all sacrificed to serve the gods

Some meat from farms are meant for feast 

Story story told

Stories, stories told 
How easy it could be in stories told 
To turn the white swan, black in stories told 


Faith is faithless, without me faithful
Without you trusting, I promise 
That I am faithful, I have been faithful 


And if you are to hear so
And so is said, by so,  with so interest 
And I am to say so, different in view point 


Which of the hear so, say so 
Would you be, saying so
That is the hear so, that you believe in 


The rest of the story, as the saying, saying goes   
Would just be whispers, heard of, sort of 
Dispersed through the grapevine, learnt of 


How to keep the white swan, faith is faithful 
A' the heart of romance from turning black 
Hear so, oh, in stories, stories told  

Bananadrama a story of sort

I always wandered, pondered, and I asked, why the banana 

Should be surged upon to have a bad name, a bad name 

Walk, walk, slip, flip, fall that is it, it has a bad name 

Never mind, he who chooses, not to look down 

Did not look. Stop, look, listen, you did not look 

Oh, gosh that’s it, he has a bad name 

And there we go, you took your eyes off the ball  

There we have it, there he does it  

A bad name, Keyser Soze 

So again and again, I will get Poirot 

To set the record straight, I mean why

Why blame the banana, t' usual suspect 

Where placed a crime scene notice on the post 

With all due respect "Sir!"

The banana, the banana? 

You see legend has it, as the story goes

Two men came into contact with

The banana, the banana

Well, a lot more than two and a monkey 

If you choose to be picky, add Super Mario 

I mean why be picky it’s just a story

So two it is, two men 

I say, two it is, sue me, boo hoo 

In this story just t' two, I am t' story teller, telling  

Anyway two men came into contact

With the banana, which found itself

At the crime scene, chalked around for evidence  

The story goes... one unplugged the banana 

So yellow, ripe and tempting
That's why, not I say, dare I say

A woman, "naughty minds 
You lot, naughty minds" 
He pushed it down his throat

And in the excitement he dropped

The yellow peel down on the road in trivial thoughts 

The story goes, as I was saying

The second man walked by

In dream state, up in the air, clouds daydream

He stepped on the banana and went flying off

A mystery that holds, the accused banana

Why is the banana to be blamed

The banana, the banana

I always wondered why the banana

Should have so significant a bad name

I would get Poirot to investigate this strange


This strange, this strange 
Bananarama, drama 
A story of sort 

The News Paper Read

Morning brew, dressed would the monarch be 
Cups of tea,  and  the news to be read 
As the king on chess games, work games 
He reads the news paper to start with routine  


To be moved, on event of reaction 
The news does read, a portrait of a man 
Printed on pages, what stories he hold, I wonder


I wonder, what stories the horoscope pages tell, to ponder 
Would it be to do with love, fortune, or a stranger's bequest, I wonder 
He reads, this fortune tellers inscriptions, to know, his luck 


I wonder, will the monarch have to abdicate his thrown   
On default of mortgage repayment, be made homeless  
I wonder how the papers would read 


What of the weather, the weathers play   
Would nature choose to smile on the day  
I wonder, what the weather report would say 


And for the sports, how did we do 
Would the king, jubilate and wear his colours
Or seat frustrated, saying 
"why did the manger not buy more players"


Cups of tea, or coffee for your like
As preferred , by the monarch, for his like  
I wonder how the news papers read