A very happy day.
A very lonely night.
Trying to find a way.
In need of shining light.

These writings have achieved the goal I set while composing them. The goal is simple: make two boys laugh.

Baluba

Live knife
Love life
Eat lice
Sleep ice
Rich wipe
Cream’n’tripe
Jungle tech
Bumble deck
Piece of nougat
Play a tuba
You’re a baluba.

Fry it up

Roger the bum the son of a gun,
A pick a flick, urrrrrrrgh that’s Limersick,
Finger buried up to the knuckle,
Like a bee in the pollen of a honey-suckle.
Sometimes green or yellow or not,
The greatest meal ever is deep-fried snot.

A&E

I apologise to Goran straight away,
No sensible rhymes will come today.
His name is awkward, somewhat obtuse,
His face reminds me, of a plucked goose.
My heart says no, my head says go on,
Goran you’re a prize MO-RON.

Alas Dr. Sun he is the weakest,
He fell in the grass and hurt his wrist,
I heard a feather fell on his head,
He hit the deck and looked almost dead.
You’d flatten that lad with a slice of bread,
Or so the rabid monkey said.

Enjoy A&E it’s a wonderful place,
Ask them Sun to fix your face,
And if they’ve some spare tape and gum,
They might fix your older brother’s bum.

Happy Birthday

What a fun time with the boy who is nine,
I think you sorta know the gist,
The tale of the boy with the broken wrist,
No cracks in bones were going to stop him,
Throwing, running, even a swim.
Well calling it a swim is rather generous,
Less like a dolphin, more like a platypus,
You’ll miss your Cúl Camp which is tough luck,
I bet you wanted to shout out “F**K!”
Ah well, drive on, it could be worse,
Don’t resort to a simple curse.
Think of all the jobs you can do,
Like that thing and t’other thing too.
Good night good night, Sleep well gentlemen,
Tomorrow’s another day. I bit you adieu.

Snorin’

There was an auld lad named Goran,
His interests I find very borin’
His brain is like slush
His face is like mush
And he has a penchant for snorin’

Poo

There was a young man named Sun
Who had a rather large bum
His face was like stew
His hair was like glue
And his breath smelled like elephant poo.

Knees creak like great gates made fast.
Weekly domestic bazaar trade cease.
Embers orange blinking sleep at last.
No light remains dark table peace.

Recollect no pure faculty habit.
Tarnished garment taunting abut.
Never before now rudimentary facet.
Humiliation and shame cannot chance it.

Peace and heaving silence woven pact.
Younglings wrapped up wardshipped.
Elders lay in content cogitation.
Doubts drowned up smothered.

My fingers press keys
My eyes see each one
My ears hear each one
My brain feels each one
All to the rhythm of the flesh drum