Happy Days – 19th January 2022

A couple of quotes from Samuel Beckett’s ‘Happy Days’. As I was reading the bizarre scenario of the play I had, perhaps, a false reminisce of seeing this play on TV when I was young, being intrigued and excited by it. Whether I did or not is beside the point. In my mind, it now happened. I found an old dodgy video online of the play and it is almost exactly as I imagined. I didn’t watch it all as I don’t want it to spoil the idea of it in my head. I will watch his other plays that I found though – unless I end up finding the books first.

Can’t be helped, just one of those old things. Another of those old things.


Sigh away all of your expectation
Lost in your thought of resignation
Accepting as a gift, a pleasure
Here is now, and made to measure

Ah yes, so little to say, so little to do, and the fear so great, certain days, of finding oneself.

There is so little one can say, one says it all, and no truth in it anywhere.

In My Hole

So little to say, so little to do
A mindless curiosity within
So afraid of being found out
Who am I? What do I bring?
Words were spoken that said it all
Tho’ not a single truth was divulged
Here, in my whole, with my bag
I am henceforth forever indulged

Poems on this day – 5th July 2021

Another Week

Another week is here
Another Monday of fun
How many have I seen?
How many more to come?
Time runs away from me
I can’t keep up these days
On the downward spiral
Running out of plays
Lazy summer Sundays
Now filled to overflowing
Oh, to be bored again
With no idea where I’m going
Regret no past mistakes
It was all a knowledge to seek
Savour every living moment
So begins another week


Uprooted from all you know
At the age of just sixteen
Still growing into your world
But following your parent’s dream
A better life is on it’s way
Though you may not see it yet
Take up this challenge
Make the most of what you get

I’m teaching a sixteen year old student who is moving with her parents from China to Australia. A tough time for someone that age.

Four Rats

Four rats run around Tokyo
Stealing all her food and drink
Too slow in her reactions
Those rats are smarter than you think
Sniffing the air in excitement
Whiskers twitching from their keep
In the drains and shadowy corners
Whilst Tokyo remains asleep

Tokyo is my friend’s pup, the sneaky rats are well fed!

Poems From Underground – 3rd July 2021

This was a mammoth task! Lots of quotes from Dostoevsky’s Notes From Underground stuck out to me and I could identify very well with The Underground Man. Finding many of these quotes elsewhere online seems to indicate that many others identify with him too.

Anyway, I decided I’d try to write a poem for each quote as I’d done before. This took a while!

The themes are obviously all very similar, maybe it could’ve been one long poem but that would’ve surely made me more crazy. Words are borrowed and manipulated liberally from the quotes. This was a fun exercise but I’m glad it’s finished. On to the Dreams of a Ridiculous Man!

But I still say that not only too much lucidity, but any amount of it at all is a disease.

Lucid Rivers

When you wake up, ready to go
In search of things you didn’t know
Does this compulsion drive you so
Too obsessive to properly grow
The disease of always learning
Never satisfies your yearning
That desire that’s always burning
Is like a wheel that’s always turning

…as a result of heightened consciousness, a man feels that it’s all right if he’s bad as long as he knows it – as though that were any consolation.

Done Bad

I know the things I’ve done
There surely is no prize
I justified the outcome
As I looked into your eyes

I’m guilty of being more intelligent than all those around me. (I’ve always felt that and, believe me, it’s weighed on my conscience sometimes. All my life, I have never been able to look people straight in the eye – I always feel a need to avert my face.)


Here on this pedestal, I sit
Judging all those below
It’s always been like this
And believe me, I know
When will you learn, I say
As if to deny what’s true
I don’t know who I am
But certain that you are you

….it will hurt itself a hundred times more than it will hurt the one against whom its revenge is directed, who probably won’t even feel enough of an itch to scratch himself.

Bad To Worse

When I took revenge on you
You didn’t feel a thing
Little did I understand
The trouble it would bring
I just wanted to hurt you
Make you feel my pain
Instead things got worse for me
Over and over again

How many times did I convince myself that I was offended, just like that, for no reason at all.

To Take Offence Is To Give Offence

Convinced myself I was offended
Just like that, no reason at all
My reaction less than splendid
Taking home my bat and ball

Where will I find primary reason for action, the justification for it? I exercise my power of reasoning, and in my case, every time I think I have found a primary cause I see another cause that seems to be truly primary, and so on and so forth, indefinitely. This is the very essence of consciousness and thought. It must be another natural law. And what happens in the end? The same thing over again.


Round and round in circles I go
Looking for the primary cause
It’s never ending, I know
It’s one of nature’s laws

You see, ladies and gentlemen, I have a friend – of course, he’s your friend too, and, in fact, everyone’s friend. When he’s about to do something, this friend explains pompously and in detail how he must act in accordance with the precepts of justice and reason. Moreover, he becomes passionate as he expostulates upon human interests; heaps scorn on the shortsighted fools who don’t know what virtue is or what’s good for them. Then, exactly fifteen minutes later, without any apparent external cause, but prompted by something inside him that is stronger than every consideration of interest, he pirouettes and starts saying exactly the opposite of what he was saying before; that is, he discredits the laws of logic and his own advantage; in short, he attacks everything…

Your Personal Friend

Roll up, roll up, he is everyone’s friend
He is another you
Arguing a point, a message to intend
About what you should do
Fifteen minutes, position is reversed
Opposite now true
Argued both ways, you’re becoming the worst
Split yourself in two
Attack from both sides needing to win
Making others blue
Needle your way under people’s skin
Two faced through and through

….in that future age of reason, there suddenly appeared a gentleman with an ungrateful, or shall we say, retrogressive smirk, who, arms akimbo, would say:
“What do you say, folks, let’s send all this reason to hell, just to get all these logarithm tables out from under our feet and go back to our own stupid ways.”
That isn’t so annoying in itself; what’s bad is that this gentleman would be sure to find followers. That’s the way man is made.


“Deny all reason and follow me
Your system isn’t working
I am the one to set you free”
I whisper quietly, smirking

…a man, always and everywhere, prefers to act in the way he feels like acting and not in the way his reason and interest tell him…

Don’t Do It

Who controls my brain?
I’m not sure it’s me
Don’t think about pink elephants
But that is what I see
I tell myself, don’t do it
And do it anyway
Shoot myself in the foot
Reason has no say

…there is one instance when a man can wish upon himself, in full awareness, something harmful, stupid, and even completely idiotic. He will do it in order to establish his right to wish for the most idiotic things and not to be obliged to have only sensible wishes…it leaves us our most important , most treasured possession: our individuality.

We’re All Individuals

I want to be stupid
It’s my right
Do dangerous things
In the night
I know it’s dumb
But I’m aware
It’s my choice
You don’t need to care

I’m prepared to follow you as soon as you have eradicated my desires, destroyed my ideals, and replaced them by something better.

The Offer

Eradicate my desires
Perhaps I’ll follow you
Destroy my ideals
Would I join your crew?
If you want me to change
Follow you to the letter
You’ll have to show me how
You offer something better

You say you’re longing to live, and you try to solve the problems of life with tangled logic. And you’re so insistent, so arrogant, and at the same time, so afraid.

Tangled Logic

In your arrogance you insist
Don’t fear or resist
Your logic remains tangled
Your thinking quite mishandled
Change the way you live
By what it is you give
You can’t see it made
As long as you’re afraid

There is some truth in you, all right, but there’s no humility; and it is out of the pettiest vanity that you drag forth your truth, to exhibit it, to offer it for sale, to disgrace it. You really have something to say, but you hide your final words, out of fear, because you really have no courage, only the impertinence of a coward. You were bragging about your consciousness, yet you can’t grasp anything clearly because, though your head is quite lucid, your heart is murky as a result of debauchery, and real consciousness is impossible without a pure heart.

Truth For Sale

Do as I say, not as I do
It’s up for sale, what is true
No courage for your conviction
A murky heart, your restriction
Nothing clear in your action
No idea maintaining traction
Your debauchery brings disgrace
And permanently found it’s place

…there are things, too, that a man won’t dare to admit even to himself, and every decent man has quite an accumulation of such things.

No Freedom

Some things I hate to admit to you
And there’s others I cannot see
I also wouldn’t admit were true
So I’ll hide them deep inside of me

I would like to note here Heine’s remark to the effect that sincere autobiographies are almost impossible and that a man is bound to lie about himself.


Every day your autobiography
Is accumulating on your stage
Where you cannot hide behind
Lies you put down on your page

I was twenty-four, but even then I led the gloomy disorganised solitary existence of a recluse. I stayed away from people, avoided even speaking to them, and kept more and more to my hole.


A gloomy solitary existence
A rat hiding in it’s hole
Away from the tyranny
Of words that cut my soul

I, of course, loathed and despised everyone in my office, although I was afraid of them at the same time. At times, I even considered them above me.

Sits In His Office

In this office I sit and suffer
Despising those above me
Fools pandering to bosses
Whispering ‘please, love me’
Afraid of failure
And afraid of praise
I wish to be left alone
To quiet office days

I was painfully sensitive and complex, as a man of this age should be. The others, of course, were stupid and resembled one another like a flock of sheep.

No Sheep

Yes, I’m weird about some things
But that’s as they should be
At least I’m no stupid sheep
And learning what I could be

One day I’d refuse to talk to my colleagues at all; then, suddenly I’d be talking their heads off and even seeking their friendship.

Pie Bowler

Today I talk your head off
You just seem bemused
Yesterday I ignored you
No wonder you’re confused
I don’t know why it happens
My brain ain’t balanced well
What you’re gonna get today
Even I cannot tell

I, for instance, sincerely loathed my office work, and if I didn’t spit in anyone’s eye, it was only because I couldn’t afford to – I was paid to sit there.

Sits In His Office II

Another dollar, another day
I spat in no one’s eye
Loathing my self-loathing
Life trudges right on by
If I do not do this thing
I’ll be another useless jerk
So now I race to the office
For another hateful day at work

No, wait, don’t laugh, I can explain – I have an explanation for everything, you may rest assured of that.

Justified Brat

I have an explanation for everything
You may rest assured of that
I’ll justify all my contradictions
Like an ageless teenage brat

How can one ever understand you…with all these noble feelings.


Your noble thoughts and feelings
Your enigmatic dealings
Can one ever understand
Life’s journey that you have planned?

I was already grimly wondering at the pettiness of their thoughts, the inanity of their talk, their games and their preoccupations. They couldn’t understand the essential things and were not interested in the most thought-provoking subjects, so I came to consider them as inferiors. …but while I was still dreaming, those boys were grasping the real meaning of life.


I discounted you in my false superiority
Because I felt I was far above the majority
Your talk and games are inane
Yet the meaning of life they explain
I still lay here, still provoking thought
In this trap I made, I am clearly caught

I hated them violently, although I was probably even worse than they.

In Common

What you did to me
Makes me so mad
And what I do to you
Is just as bad
This violent hate
The same as yours
Exposes us both
To our own flaws

I did make a friend once, but I was already a tyrant at heart and wanted to be the absolute ruler of his mind….It was as though I’d only wanted his total friendship just for the sake of winning it and making him submit to me.

Tyrant Friend

The only way you can be my friend
Is if you submit to my will
Your submission must be total
Tho I will remain a tyrant still
If you break these unspoken rules
You will be castigated
I must be ruler of your mind
Until my ego is placated

I wanted to show the lot of them that I wasn’t the coward I myself thought I was.


My true colours as a coward
My bravado comes to hide
I hurt myself to prove to you
There’s more to me inside

That’s bad too – not to think. Wake up and get hold of yourself while there’s still time. Because you do still have time, understand that!

Too Bad

I don’t want to think about it
I just want to drink about it
I try to fix but always doubt it
In my mind is where I shout it
Can I wake up to myself
Whilst there’s time to be had
Try to think my way out
But…ah, well, that’s too bad

…we must first learn to live ourselves before we begin to accuse others!

Jack Hughes

Issuing instructions on correct living
Somewhat insincere, granted misgiving
Accusations undermined in ignorance
Hypocritical, devious denial of intelligence

I didn’t understand that sarcasm is a screen – the last refuge of shy, pure persons against those who rudely and insistently try to break their hearts.

Extreme Screen

I dare not speak of those things I’ve seen
Shy, yet pure, I must raise this screen
My last refuge is not as it may seem
This story plays out as a reoccurring theme
Indirectly, I direct you to where I’ve been
Cry off in the corner as I, smiling, beam
My reaction may be considered extreme
My sarcasm will rudely disturb your dream

Habit can do things to people, I’m sure.


Discipline breeds habit
Habits breed discipline too
Doing things to people’s brains
Doing the do, do do

I’d been insulted, so I wanted to insult back; I’d been made a doormat, so I wanted to show my power and wipe my feet on someone else.


You wiped your shoes on me
With your insulting behaviour
I’ll take my shoes to someone else
So they may feel my failure

I can only play with words or dream inside my head; in real life, all I want is for you to vanish into the ground! I need peace.

Vanishing Point

The life I wish for is just a dream
I play out in my head many times a day
I would never stick a real knife in you
Though I need peace – please, just go away

Of course, spinning long yarns about how I poisoned my life through moral disintegration in my musty hole, lack of contact with other men, and spite and vanity is not very interesting.

It’s Not Called a Men-cave

As you can see for yourself
My life is quite ordinary
The tales of my disintegration
They don’t often vary
From my cave I look out
A life so poisoned with spite
Unable to deny my vanity
And unable to make things right

We’ve lost touch to such an extent that we feel a disgust for life as it is really lived and cannot bear to be reminded of it.

Daily Reminder

It annoys me to be reminded of the way you are
Disgusts me so much that I then take things too far
Losing touch with reality, trapped inside this cage
Punishing myself as I’m tortured with this sickly rage

We don’t know ourselves. We would be the ones to suffer if our whimsical wishes were granted.

Whimsical Wishes

Ah, it’s the usual story
Wasted wishes on whimsy
We think we know ourselves
Yet the evidence is flimsy
So that we may suffer
When desires are not earned
Your third wish is for three more
Is something to be learned

…we long to turn ourselves into something hypothetical called the average man.

Mr Average

Poison girls once did tell
That Mr Average did never exist
Yet the desire for exactly that
Is a want we cannot resist

Poems on this day – 23rd June 2021


We marched ever onward
Til we conquered all around
Spilled blood, spread disease
Put generations in the ground
Now the march is inward
To conquer our own mind
What then becomes of us
After what we find?


Some absurd things make us laugh
While others they offend
But if you cannot laugh at yourself
You’ll be angry until your end
You can have your faith and eat it
Not everyone feels the same
Our beliefs are as absurd as each others
Let’s not apportion blame

Legacy of GG

Ugly is art, all the same
No judgement on defect
It deserves respect
Only opinion, it’s in the name
It could be a mistake
Art for art’s sake
Like it or leave it
Opinions aren’t facts
So just relax
If you don’t believe it
Existing is real
Whatever you feel
Fame can be fleeting
Soon passing on by
Even after you die
Those people you’re meeting
Will return to the sky
Just as you and I

Poems on this day – 22rd June 2021

Psyche’s Mistake

If you looked deeply and saw it was not real
Everything stripped away so you could no longer feel
Would that mean that all the things from the past
Never really happened now they no longer last?
Was it all a lie? Memories that now fade
Was it even you and those mistakes you made?
Maidens become wolves, jewels become dust
I cherish it all, for happiness I must
Unrelenting winds whipped into a chill
Forever into oblivion, remnants laying still

Avoid The Plague Like The Plague

Just wear the goddamn mask
Is that too much for me to ask
You got the vaccine, lucky you
Show some respect for others too
The situation is far from vague
So I must avoid you, like the plague

Poems on this day – 21st June 2021

You Bring Out The English In Me

I’m sorry to say, it’s your fault
It’s all the stupid things I see
Sarcasm is the default result
You bring out the English in me
“That’s just great, that’s amazing!”
While I wonder what the fuck you’re doing
What I mean and say are not the same thing
Over the horizon trouble is brewing
It’s a culture clash, war with words
I see things I should never see
Slower than thirty three and a thirds
You bring out the English in me

Fuck Frustration!

Argh – fuck it all, fuck it away
Get it out, make it snappy
Process frustration every day
Get it out, just be happy

Poems on this day – 29th April 1989

The Pleasure Game

We do the best we can
To avoid injury and pain         
Except for some morons         
Who find pleasure in that game            
Hit me – if you can     
To make you feel a man          
Hit me – if you can     
To make you feel a better man


I’m terrified of losing
It took me this long to realize   
The power that you’re using     
I can see it in your eyes          
How can Iet you go    
When I don’t want to let you go            
And I do want to let you go     
Though I don’t want to let you know


Your patriotism makes me sick
‘Cos you can’t support what you believe
I know you’re wrong – ‘cos I’ve seen better          
If I get the chance I think I’ll leave

Poems on this day – 24th December 1988

Sun’s Coming Out

In my, day of reckoning
The executioner will stand tall
Before he pulls the lever
To let my body fall
The storm will drop to a distance
And leave my justice in doubt
A hooded figure will step forward
And raise a vociferous shout
Too late to save me from my fate
In front of all the town
At least they will remember me
As the sun came beating down

Geezers and Lads

Wolf whistle! The girl walks by
Pop in the pub for four or five
Me – I can drink ten
Well? Go on then
I’m so hard, I’m so cool
If I want – I’ll call you a fool
If I want? What do I want?
And who’s fucking who?
I treat girls right
I fuck all night
Well I can fuck all day


On the fortieth day of Christmas
My love fell in a hole
At first she was so tiny
And now she stands so cold
The tarmac covered up the sun
Luckily nothing was going on
I went home and wrote this song 

Bad Breath

Bad breath stinks
Bad breath stinks
Bad breath stinks
Curry, prunes, wheat and beans
Fart, fart, fart, fart – please
Bad breath stinks
Bad breath stinks


The neon mirror glows like an aura
Men muscle in before the performance is over
As you adjust your set, she adjusts her face
A performance so full that you could embrace

My Idea

That was my idea
I had it first
Mine was good
But yours is worse
I’m better I am great
You’re just out of date
I’m better I am great
You’re just two years too late

If God

If God was a girl
It would be a different world
If God was a clown
No one would feel down
If God was a ruler     
He’d keep us straight
If God was God
He’d be my mate


Where’s your spirit?…hic
I think I’m gonna be … beeurrgh
Just passed my meths exam
Drunk all that I can    
Lost the use of my hands
Too much abuse and too many sins
Meths makes me happy
Meths keeps me sane
Meths makes a meal
of my methylated brains      

Gee,  Whiz

Sped past the happy crowds
Just to be by your side
Wanna be the first to congratulate you
So happy that you died
Gee, thanks

Poems on this day – 7th December 1988

Verging on the Ridiculous

It was on the good ship ridiculous
That I met my first date          
She said she was a virgin       
I said, ‘You’re fucking great.’

Standard Bearer

Self satisfying, smug in your knowledge
This is the greatest cosmic college
And in the dreamscape where your dreams are dreamt
You are above the carnivorous carnivore’s contempt        
The eagles fly as you march by
The standard bearer stares at the sky


Hate that dance? I certainly do
Hate that music? So should you
Hate that smile? It winds me up
Hate that smell? keep the door shut
To the shithouse
Acid house, jazz house
Blues house reggae rub-a-dub your blub house

Too Often

Happiness tears are wept
But in sadness they should not be kept
Too often now we cry too much
When there is no time to touch

Emotionally Unstable

Like a catalogue of facts
Set out in a table
You know that by my acts       
I am emotionally unstable

Poems on this day – 27th November 1988

Insane Scream Banana

Acid smiling elephant house
Creeping crawling belching mouse       
Windy winding smelly toad      
Falling laughing humble abode
Insane screaming banana dirt   
Melting mountain desperate flirt           
Silly stupid pathetic rhyme      
Plastic shotgun crocodile line

Miss Lady

Ok Miss lady, you said do it in silence
And I tried my best to keep quiet          
Yes Sir but you brought about this violence        
And turned everything into a riot          
I’m sorry Miss Lady but I can’t help out
It is above and beyond my comprehension         
Yes Sir, but you don’t need to shout      
You already have my attention
At last it is done …. aaahhh!  


You are sat in my armchair
Just the most wonderful teddy-bear        
I will get to sleep all right       
When I go to bed tonight         
Because I can hug you tight     
I can turn out the light


You get to a stage
A part of the day       
When that feeling      
Won’t go away          
You just can’t explain to me     
Why am I always hungry?     
All I know is eat, eat, eat         
Let’s sit down to a lovely treat  
I don’t know what anything means to me            
All I know is – I’m hungry

Ugly Bug

On my sideboard
Oh – good Lord         
It’s an ugly bug         
Round and square      
Just balanced there     
An ugly bug

Stupid Poor Boy

I’m not very clever
I don’t understand a lot           
But I know I’m happy
With what I’ve got 

To Drink

To drink and be drunk is very merry
Sit down, relax and watch the telly        
To think and be drunk is very silly        
You start calling William Willy           
To drunk and be drink is very telly   

Soft Blow

You came at me from out of the blue
I was always falling for people like you
When you touched me there was nothing I could do         
Give me a soft blow and just blow on through        


Yuppie – do
Yuppie – dik
Yuppie – li    
Yuppie – sick
Yuppie – up  
Yuppie – suck 

Harry and Mary

You know they were the sweetest pair
Went with each other everywhere         
She drank wine and he drank beer         
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year


You can bake me a birthday cake
Take me to a scenic lake         
But can you, please, for my sake          
Get rid of my backache           
Every step I take       
I’m not sure I can make           
I try to keep it straight
To get rid of my backache

Cursed Earth

Blessed are the victims of puritanical hate
Guardians are wary of those you enter late         
Calling to the Cursed Earth looking through the gate        
Richest rewards come to those prepared to wait

Bastard Baiters

A call to arms
Now don’t be alarmed
If you catch them all  
You can go unharmed
Cast out the waiters    
Make them bastard baiters       
Better never than later
Make them bastard baiters