Wednesday, 19 August 2009

Two sides of Spike

My first foray into “literature”, I have long been a fan of Spike Milligan, from the Goons which I listened to on the radio as a boy to The Reason Why (1957) and The Humdrum History of the Helmet (1992), as well as the “Q” series, Spike was a troubled man, huge bouts of depression followed by massive highs (Bi-Polar).
But whether he was up or down he wrote, and here are a few of his timeless “scribbles”.


Through every nook and every cranny

The wind blew in on poor old Granny

Around her knees, into each ear(And up nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse

It nearly made the vicar curse

The top had fallen off the steepleJust missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beastIt blew on nun, it blew on priest

It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-But most of all, it blew on Granny!


"What is a Bongaloo, Daddy?"

"A Bongaloo, Son," said I, "Is a tall bag of cheesePlus a Chinaman's knees

And the leg of a nanny goat's eye."

"How strange is a Bongaloo, Daddy?"

"As strange as strange," I replied.

"When the sun's in the West It appears in a vest Sailing out with the noonday tide."

"What shape is a Bongaloo, Daddy?"

"The shape, my Son, I'll explain:It's tall round the nose Which continually grows In the general direction of Spain."

'Are you sure there's a Bongaloo, Daddy?'

"Am I sure, my Son?" said I.

"Why, I've seen it, not quite On a dark sunny night

Do you think that I'd tell you a lie?


Born screaming small into this world-Living I am.

Occupational therapy twixt birth and death-What was I before?

What will I be next?

What am I now?

Cruel answer carried in the jesting mind of a careless God

I will not bend and grovel

When I die. If He says my sins are myriad

I will ask why He made me so imperfect

And he will say 'My chisels were blunt'

I will safy 'Then why did you make so
many o me'.

Values '67

Pass by citizen don't look left or right

Keep those drip dry eyes straight ahead

A tree? Chop it down- it's a danger
to lightning!

Pansies calling for water,
Let 'em die- queer bastards-

Seek comfort in the scarlet, labour
saving plastic rose

Fresh with the frangrance of Daz!

Sunday! Pray citizen;

Pray no rain will fall On your newly polished

Four wheeled God


Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Get it out with Optrex

I have left the spelling mistakes etc in because we are all human, but some of us are more human than others.


Angus Dei on all and sundry


No comments:

Post a Comment