the ice age hit when I was on a zoom call -Mammoth Quest

 It wasn't the last

Or Alice through the looking Glass

But I was on an ordinary zoom call

A video conference with a Mammoth

He was giant it was 

The voyage of Champs

The neanderthals drank 

the poisoned champagne

Scientists say

Maybe Cro Magnon man poisoned

Neanderthal man's well

The voyage of champions

Ah the Elysian fields

Where we ride forever on our magnetic steeds

Steel steeds with iron

Hooves

The horse shoes turned up

The caveman applied sunscreen

To their faces

It was a bit like the

Glencoe massacre

Of course it was a Mammoth quest

The sword of Damocles

 It was the last sword of the very last day

The last hair had fallen away

And Damocles knew

This was his last hour

 

On the razors edge he saw his life

Shorn

Cut both ways

Like creation had sworn

But there was more to swear about

Back in those days

 

The dogs were barking at a hollow moon

And he tried to cut a slice of it too soon

And the silver fell away from the gold

The hen wouldn't lay

And the butcher was lean

He had already sold all that he'd seen

To the candle stick maker

Who was getting on my wick

I said why are you burning it at

Both ends

Can't you see that you don't have no friends

In the about turn of your ways

Poet Laundrette

 Bring in your dirty poems

We wash them all here

Clean dry your poetry law suits

That are crimes against literature

Rinse off your underwear

And iron your socks

Each have a poem in them

Don't look so shocked

What! You never knew a poem could hide in your pants?

At the bottom of your pockets

Down in the Hugh Grants?

Steam press the creases

That's where poems love to hide

Each crease is a line

Ready to ride

But you've got to be quick or else they'll escape

They'll slip out through the stitches and run down

The drain

You'll have  to use the best in Poetry washing powder

Poetry non bio you better beware tho

There is an enzyme that will wash them all out

The stains of the day -Poemase or Versal

That leaves stories in shirts so bright that they shout

Cleans out the rhymes

Leaves only the prose

all tied up in time

Clean as your nose

Let me tone down the colours for you

Let's not make them all grey

Poetry is an art form but 

It doesn't pay

That's why I'm the poet laundrette

Ready with a story and a cigarette

Just never did wash

The garments of the Poet Laureat

Train to nowhere

 Oh this is the train to nowhere

Going nowhere fast

One place we are reaching

Is back into the past

This is the train to nowhere going on so slow

The signal black out

Like in the blitz means there’s nowhere to go

The train manager told the story

The news it wasn’t good

We were on a hiding to nothing

Riding with red riding hood

Missing out the points oh

We had to slow way down

Point to point the brakes applied

But they’re all singing now

We’re on the train to nowhere

Between town and town

The rails are moving faster than we are

The fields are over taking us with a frown

 

The white waters gleams in the blue sky

The thistles and pines they sigh

The crows in a pair sit laughing

In their trees

For even they can fly faster than we

 

Even the bees who are hibernating drowsily

Buzzing so high

But their buzzes are more than matching

Ours cos tis reason this train won’t fly

We’re on the train to nowhere

It’s going nowhere fast

I think that my future’s frozen

But now I’m catching up on my past

 

Love on the blink

 The doors they are all closing and

The summer is a wink

The winter is a looter

Of the corridors of pink

I think like a computer

That is always on the blink

But I love you in my zeros and 

In my current buns

I love you in electrodes

And cathodes on the brink

Of broadcasting television shows

And celebrities who wink

I love you like the night waves

That come at the midnight hour

I love you now and always

Love has no diminishing power

Fashion talks

To the one in the middle

 the Fashionista

She was so blonde

With her face of alabaster

She was blue and dark at once

Well blue goes with everything

You nonce

It goes with jet black

And cream

It goes like a riverboat dream

 

She was all about the women in

Between the noughties

And the blue sky

And she read about the Beatles

The History of Shell

She sucked the oil slick up, slick

She was sick as well

Can you believe her

What a statement

Modern fashionista

Modern fascist fashion

With the moustache as well

And Nationalism on the playing cards

Hitler, Mussolini

Dictator top Trumps

Trumped by Trump

And the gene pool is too small

On this crabby island

It is too tight and cruel

And we burn witches too

Who do? You do?

You do, voodoo!

No, you do!

You remind me of the girl

I once knew next door

Down the road

Who was blonde-haired and blue-eyed

And fair

And next door to her was a pig tailed ginger mop 

Whose green eyes glowed

Like emeralds against her pale skin

But the fashionista hasn't seen her

Hasn't seen the Irish Vista

Hasn't witnessed Scottish skulk

And Hulk and Sulk over shipwrecked bulks

Of fashion and blue Whales

Washed up on green seaweed shores

No sadly the fashionista never saw

 

She moved to Brighton and became a mermaid

But when the fishermen saw her, they caught her

And chopped off her tail

And so now she swims with a wooden tail

Which is very difficult because wood floats

But instead of synchronised swimming routines

She began to sell Brighton rock and she left

Her wishes in them

Little messages

“Please help me I'm in Brighton”

“Not all that glistens is gold”

And

“A mermaid's life is never free

For you're caught between a Rock

And the Deep Blue Sea”

 

Head back up

 With your sweet words

You were picking bones

In the graveyard of second chances

And I was hearing tones

Of all your rain dances

Believe me when I say

I believed in you

When the skies opened

And we were both soaked through

While I've been eating swords

You've been speaking sweet words

So why does this bitter taste

Ring true?

Should I have cocked my gun

When I saw you charging

Felled the wild beast of your intentions?

Should I have damped the powder

Of the store of your explosions

Before the whole silo blew?

While I've been eating swords

You've been speaking sweet words

I just find them both so difficult

To chew

No I don't need your company

Though I wish for a bumper crop

In the whistle down provisions

That you chose to stop

No I don't hear the thumping

Of the lucky rabbit's foot

I guess in the end the horse shoe

was facing up

While I've been eating swords

You've been speaking sweet words

But in the end when we reach the bottom

The only thing to do is head back to the top