Monthly Archives: September 2012

Getting Battered


Taking quite a battering
in the boxing ring
Sat with your cornerman…waiting for the bell to go
for the next round…it’s a horrible scenario
you’d rather be somewhere else…say at home with a hot cocoa
After another round of punishment
Return to your seat for treatment…on a bloody nose

In the towel goes…”I Surrender”
He’s a real contender
for the world title next year
Whereas you opt for a much safer occupation
A flower shop, stacking roses, boxing carnations…

Hey, Dude!


Hey, dude, from the U.S.A
Do the Beatles blow you away
Like they do me
Hey, dude in Kentucky
do you love “Sgt. Pepper”
with your fried chicken in the diner
Hey, dude in Texas
The fab four we all miss
Hey, dude in Chicago, did you dig the rhythm
and the sheer style of the iconic “White Album”
Hey, dude in Boston…can you explain
the endearing quality of “Penny Lane”
The Beatles conquered America
They conquered almost everywhere
I wonder was Neil Armstrong humming a Beatles tune
when he and Buzz Aldrin set foot on the moon…Hey, dude!

And God Created Woman


And God created woman
It would be a boring world without them
Although it would be a lot quieter
and what about Bardot on the Cote d’Azur
Brigitte Bardot, you sure are swell
The ultimate femme fatale
You took Roger Vadim, Serge Gainsbourg and Sacha Distel as your lovers
Brigitte Bardot, I bet you were sensational under the covers

You broke down at the trial of a notorious vivisectionist
I see you as an animal rights revolutionary with clenched fist
But I see you as so much more
The stunning “babe” we all grew to adore
So who is the next Bardot?
Ludivine Sagnier, I don’t know
But one thing that I know for sure
With French actresses, life’s never a bore
These silver screen beauties leave you coming back for more
The formula works…they are a box office draw

So who is the next Bardot?
Could it be Sophie Marceau?
She was sizzling in “The World Is Not Enough”
‘Though replacing Brigitte Bardot could be tough
Maybe there’ll never be another Bardot.



Caravaggio, Caravaggio
You were an extremely violent so and so
Your paintings had a strange quality though
You even painted while on the run
“Boy bitten by a lizard” was your best one
Why are Italians so good at art?
From Giotto to Da Vinci, they played their part
Not to mention Canaletto’s portrayals of Venice
and a Modigliani nude wouldn’t go amiss
in anyone’s
art collection
But getting back to the troubled one
That Caravaggio certainly had his fun
And as dangerous as a loaded gun
More overtly sexual
than Michelangelo
more talented even
than the genius, that was Titian
and Filippo Lippo and Tintoretto
couldn’t hold a candle to Caravaggio
Although they were good in their own way
Caravaggio had the final say
and I wonder how much you would have to pay
for an original
The mind boggles
Caravaggio, what went on in your head?
and did you do any soul searching on your death bed
Cause after all, you were rather wicked
I chose to remember you as a great artist instead

The Last Picasso


The last Picasso went for a song: “Money, Money, Money”
If it wasn’t so heartbreaking, I’m sure it would be funny
As for me, I’m a struggling artist
can’t even afford to go out and get pissed
Picasso painted the matadors
The victorious ones and those not so lucky!
and stood up to the Nazis. Boy, that’s plucky
Takes real courage. (Dutch, that is!)
I heard he left it all to his mistress!

They used to say about Da Vinci: His art’s in the right place
i.e Le Louvre in Paris, in a bulletproof case
Pablo was even more famous, than the man who invented the parachute
made a fortune while still alive, as others before him died destitute.

From the father of cubism to Damien Hirst
But Pablo was the one who did it all first
So won’t you join me in a toast
to Pablo Picasso’s ghost
as he haunts art critics everywhere
not that I could really care
cause I can always escape
with my heavy metal tapes

The last Picasso
Heading for Tate Britain…in an aeroplane
to be stared at
by prats, sheltering from the rain

It’s the bitterest pill
that his landscape of Seville
warrants more attention
than any N.H.S hospital I dare to mention
Factory worker’s plight or war widow’s pension
Still, that’s life!



Sacha Distel played jazz guitar so well And sung “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” Sacha, I was sad when I heard you were dead Such a gentleman of your profession and a real ladies’ man You oozed charm and sophistication A credit to the French nation Your cover of “Little Green Apples”, a revelation and your talent, a cause for much celebration “Mona Lisa” and the ballad “Didn’t We” Such wonderful harmonies delivered with such effortless ease You married a French ski champion and dated Brigitte Bardot You were the ultimate musician…an understated hero More than just a crooner I wish I’d discovered you sooner “Monsieur Cannibal” is my favourite album of yours The song “Sh-Sh-Sh-She Loves You”, I simply adore “Autumn Leaves” are falling now outside my window, seems ironic, somehow Goodbye Sacha.

Chico and Rita


Chico and Rita
met in a bar in Cuba
He was a piano player
and she was a singer
It was love at first sight
They danced away the night
They made love in lots of different places
Rita loved Chico’s warm embraces
and he was besotted with her
They were separated for nearly 50 years
When they were reunited in Vegas, there were tears
Chico and Rita
were made for each other
“If music be the food of love…play on”
as someone once said.