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Poetry Magnum Opus

Jumpers (some naughty words)


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We live in a world of make-believe

day after day after day after day.


I raise a tired fist and feebly say

Hello, hello. It seems that things

are getting out of hand. Herodotus said


a number of interesting things, he pings

on the Ancient World, the BC bit,

long before the AD slice we live in,


being a dangerous man for opinions

altogether. So-o-o-o hard to decide whether

he’d be telling the truth. In a booth


not far from Birmingham I met a man

living in a world of make-believe

who told me something I still remember:


Listen to Herodotus, ya prick,

So I, being young and thick


listened to the man coming over the airwaves,

fading in and out from 350 BC.


It didn’t help or relieve, just sought to heave

the same old problems around, to shunt the cunts

as it were: was Melpomene your suffering mother?


She was young, you know, in the early Nazi days

and thought it was all very fine. Berlin in the sunlight.

Her summer frock. Bathing on the Wannsee with SS boys,

No notion the Fuehrer was out of his mind.


I wish you would go away,

no longer linger no longer stay:

your language is offensive!

Listen to Herodotus.


The defensive part is not the art

that wins a War: toujours, toujours l’audace

lands you up dead or a cripple.


Yes, I enjoy a little tipple

now and again with friends, it makes amends

for the other crap I end up doing.


I have had my fill of war.

You don’t know what you’re fighting for

after the first year runs into the second.


A fecund lady has always been my dream,

broad hips, big tits, something to grab hold of,

but I always end up with slight little girls,


little waifs who slit their wrists, have problems,

who arouse my protective instincts, and who,

if you get that far, are not a very good fuck.


I need a blonde beaming girl who doesn’t read books,

who doesn’t speak in connected sentences,

who understands money like you wouldn’t believe!


Girlfriends are one thing, but wives are another!

I was told that by my mother: she said, may God

direct you to the Right Woman, you young idiot, etc.


My Chinese girl has left me. Of course she has.

She was so cute and young and smart and elegant:

no doddering chav is allowed these things …


if but only for a while


and so my heart still sings. Dangerously.

I smile. A sunny smile. I know, I know it is all a game

and other sweet girls will flutter along


like moths to murder in the flame. They want

a certain something. And so, dear God, do I.

Herodotus was saying, before you interrupted


that different people behave in different ways

and he was fascinated by this: he writes, whenever

the Persians had something seriously to decide

they went about it twice. Initially, they were quite

sober and rational, questioning, very very open to advice,

but then they went off and got totally drunk or stoned

and listened to no-one, to see if feelings would coincide.

As I stare, in fact glare at my iPhone 5 today

that still makes sense in every way.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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Quite a unique--and true to life history. I love the span connecting Herodotus to the I phone 5. Otherwise, it's brilliant and insane, as if I would know. Thanks, Bren the Free. (My dub for thee.) Ha.

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Colourful, entertaining and educational. Reminds me of something I once read: “Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the future.” B. :smile:

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  • 3 weeks later...

I honestly don't know where these things come from. But come they do ... usually on Thursdays.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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