Not so much poetry as comic verse, this is dedicated to my son who was a terrible worrier as a child (he grew out of it fortunately). It deals with monsters, trolls, ghosts, ghouls and the nameless menage that hides under the bed, all those fears than confront a child when the lights go out and they are left alone. The audio is a bit over compressed but should be listenable. MP3 Music is from Greig's Peer Gynt suite.
Hear the audio Sleepless Nights of A Little Boy I’m lying here, its late at night And I’m looking at the dark I’m not afraid ‘cause now I’m big I know no Monster lurks Beneath the bed to grab my leg When I get up for a widdle. Now worser things are on my mind Life really is a diddle, When you've outgrown your monsters, Trolls, goblins, bogeymen too, You learn that there’s more nastier things Just waiting to get you. We learned in science at skool today Of bacteria and germs And funguses like athlete’s foot And parasites like worms. Then a nurse lady came to class And searched everybody's ‘ead For little lice that suck your blood And if you have no blood you’re dead. There might be fungus growing on me. I touched some rotten wood today And I’m full of germs cause I swallowed A fly when we wuz out to play. The germs are fighting with the worms # Inside me I can tell I wonder what they’ll do to me, MUM ! I DON’T FEEL WELL ! Dad smokes lots of cigarettes And fills his lungs with tar. I keep tell him what every Superhero sez about smoking. He don't care. But I keep breathing in his smoke So when I’m gone to live wiv God He’ll sell my lungs to the government to resurface a main road And if he gives up ciggies Then I’m in trouble still ‘cause if the smoke don’t get me glue sniffin’ prob’ly will. Not that I want to sniff up glue Or any other kind of fumes But last week mum and dad went shopping to buy a furniture for my room. The wardrobe’s made of fibreboard Yesterday we learned at skool They make that board from woodchips All mixed up with glue. I lie here sniffing glue all night I think its getting at my brain. Glue sniffers, they fall down a lot And then they go insane Well I’m lying down already And my mum says I’m mad I’m more like a worrying old man Than carefree little lad If she doesn’t care it serves her right ‘cause one night I suppose She’ll come up to tuck me in and find My brains have all run down my nose. Ooer....
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
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