Cake – remixed

Some time ago I wrote a poem about Cake, then I rewrote it for publishing in an anthology, after reading it again today I thought I might as well repost it.



Cake will never let you down
Cake will always be around.
Cake never ever goes out late
Or gets drunk with its mates.
Cake never ever hogs the duvet
Cake always knows what to say.
Cake doesn’t mind your family
Arriving unannounced for tea.
Cake doesn’t pester you for sex
Cake doesn’t care about your ex.
Cake will help you lose weight
And thinks your new shoes are great.
Cake lets you see other cakes
Cake never ever wants “a break.”
Cake will never let you down
Pity there’s not enough to go round.


An ode to my first ever Star Wars action figure.

Death Squad Commander Star Wars Action Figure

I remember how keen my fingers were
To tear you quickly out of your box.
And equip you with your trusty blaster,
Which up the Hoover was soon lost.
Oh Star Wars Death Squad commander
I loved you despite your lack of elbows and knees.
I loved your very stylish hat which is,
Still favoured by Olympic cyclists it seems.
Sadly I couldn’t afford the Death Star,
To give you a base from which to command.
So from an old box the washer came in,
I armed myself with a black felt and a plan.
To transform that mountain of waste card,
Into what I thought for you was a fitting base.
Full of trap doors, exhaust ports and cell blocks,
Plus a trash compactor space.
So when you adventured with Action Man,
Or fought off a LEGO rebel attack.
You defended your cardboard Empire with pride,
But now I find that as I write this and look back.
That I wonder if I’d left you in your packet,
And put you safely away on a shelf.
That today your Ebay value,
Might have paid for a new TV for my house?
But my young hands just wanted to play,
They longed to adventure and create.
And in those simpler times the phrase “ mint in box, “
Just meant to me a delicious After Eight.*


*Just in case you weren’t aware, After Eight’s were tasty minty chocolates that come in a posh looking box.

after eight

The tale of Speccy and Sporty.

Based on a vague remembrance of growing up, the characters of Speccy and Sporty are I suppose an amalgamation of my childhood friends and my good self.

Young Speccy and Sporty
Became firm friends for life.
Bonding over comics and footballs,
And computers and bikes.

Trendy Speccy and Sporty
Became their street’s fashion hits.
Modelling worn-out dressing gowns,
Or that seasons football kit.

Bewildered Speccy and Sporty
Tried hard to fit in at school.
Teachers hailed one a prodigy,
And labelled the other a fool.

Nonplussed Speccy and Sporty
Devoted their time to the telly.
Arguing was Dr Who or Match of the Day,
The best TV program ever.

Distracted Speccy and Sporty
Found god and love stood no chance.
As when you own a PlayStation or Xbox,
You’ve no time for religion or romance.

Finally Speccy and Sporty
Grew happily old together.
Having lived their lives entwined,
And with no regrets what so ever.

The city centre seagull


Who needs a gentle sea breeze
To lightly ruffle your feathers.
When instead you can soar in smog
In all sorts of miserable weather.

Who needs fresh fish to dine on
That you can pluck flapping from the sea.
When you can feast on cold greasy chips
Scattered among the cities debris.

Who needs the open ocean vista
As you bob on waves that smoothly sway.
When you can have an endless concrete vista
Interspersed with choking motorways.

Who needs the calmness of the sea
With its soft rhythmic peace.
When you can have endless noise and light
And live in a city that never sleeps.

Oh Lord won’t you buy me the latest iPhone?

Inspired by my own poor phone, with apologies to Janis Joplin.


Oh Lord won’t you buy me the latest iPhone?
My friends all have one, I’m feeling alone.
Hardly worked all my lifetime , a job I’ve not known,
So Lord won’t you buy me the latest iPhone?

Oh Lord won’t you buy me a 3D TV?
PPI cold callers are trying to find me.
I rarely get out of bed each day before three,
So Lord won’t you buy me a 3D TV?

Oh Lord won’t you buy me a night on the beer?
I’m counting on you Lord, the pub is quite near.
Prove that you love me and let’s both say cheers,
Oh Lord won’t you buy me a night on the beer?

Oh Lord won’t you buy me the latest iPhone?
I need to contact my dealer, I want to feel stoned.
My meds are wearing off, I thrash and I moan.
Oh Lord won’t you buy me the latest iPhone?

That’s it.