Jupiter moon v Saturn Methane


Today Javk Dyer and Chris Mainwaring are having a fun day at Jupiter Moon oval, to celebrate the after life UFL tournament, and Jack Dyer started the ball rolling with two space kickers, Daniel Morecmbe and Graham Thorne, and Graham Thorne kicked about 2 goals and 17 behinds and he beat Daniel Morecambe who just kicked 1 goal and no behinds and after they was over we went to the handball competition run by Tony Campbell, and we had some great participants like Don Bradman and Tony Grieg, and Zara Baker came in and was the first to get a bulls eye, and she got it twice, and also Peter Sargent handballed two through the bullseye and him and Zara were looking like winning, untill Blske came in and scored a superb bulls eye three times and he won the hand ball competition, there were two more entries, who were Peter Harvey and graham Kennedy, but neither of them got bulls eyes, so Peter Sargent won the prize, the next thing was the tie up footy game, you see if you miss a goal you get a part of your body ******* and if you get a goal, you don't, so the aim is to not get it wrong, because you will find it hard to get free to kick your next attempted goal, so the first was Naomi Innes, and she kicked a behind and Ted Bundy tied her legs together, and then Brett Eggins kicked a great goal, and he yelled put, boys are better, your going down little girlie, and then Zara Baker kicked a goal and she went over to Brett and said, girl's are smarter than you, na, nani, na na, then Scott Macdonald came up and kicked a goal and went up to Zara Baker and said boys rule the afterlife, chicks rule the bed afterwards, and then Marilyn Monroe came over and kicked a behind and the boys tied her legs together and both Naomi and Marilyn were trying to be free the next time, and then River Phoenix had a shot and he scored a behind and he disgraced the boys when Ted Bundy came out and tied his legs together, yes Ted felt good and the final person was Micheal Jackson, and he scored a beautiful goal, and now for the second and last series, and first Naomi with her legs tied together, tried to push her legs up, and because it was tbe afterlife, Naomi pushed her legs and showed us her skills she learnt in death, then Brett Eggins, kicked another goal, and Brett said I am the ruler of this afterlife, no one will beat me, no way no chance no hope and then Zara Baker, who requested to run with the ball with defenders trying to stop her, but that was a trick, because little Zara Baker was too fast as she swung around everyone and scored her second goal, and she said, go Zara, go Zara, I am the greatest in the afterlife, oh yeah I am and then Marilyn Monroe came to magically kick with her feet tied together, and she tried a full somersault over the top of Jupiter moon and scored a great goal and Marilyn said, I am the greatest kicker in the after life, and seeing I don't know much about Aussie rules, I seem alright, dudes, River Phoenis had the next kick and he wasn't too lucky and Ted Bundy tied his hands together as well as gag his mouth, and he is the loser, so he is going to burn in hell or get burnt by the methane, whatever came first, Micheal Jackson came in next to score a great goal,  and Zara, Brett and Micheal Jackson were our winners, congratulations to you 3 dudes, yes this was a great day at Jupiter moon, and everybody had fun.

It was a sixpenny slot
which wasn't that much,
but when that's all you've got
it was.

twenty shots to *** twenty ducks
and you'd get your sixpence back,
quack ****** quack
never once got it back
and I always walked home,

that should have taught me something
about something, but when you're ten
you can't know anything about something
or I never thought so.

This link did not work..probably due to my inexperience in moving files..But this is a poem written for my Mother's eightieth Birthday and is well worth a look....Search under Gelderberry on Vimeo and click on Pic...And hello poetry if this is against your rules then I feel sure you will delete this post..and no hard feelings.j.

Daniel Morecambe calls to his kidnapper from Venus



Hi, I am Daniel Morecambe, and you think you killed me
But you killed my body, but not my soul
I will always be up here in outer space
While you are rotting in your jail cell
I hope you stay there, cause I love teasing you
You see I am a kid, and your a man
I am a kid, and you are a man
And when I say man, just a age man
You aren't a normal man, but I will be a smart alek kid up here forever
You will never **** my soul dude
I want to sing this song, to all you would be kidnappers down there on earth
I am your victim, death doesn't shut me up
I can't have gags on my mouth anymore
You can't **** me, and mate, I am a kid, and your a man
I'm a kid and your a man, cool kids do what I do yeah
You aren't a cool kid, you are a evil kidnapper
Well, you are now under my power
You see, it's true, I am a kid and your a man
You will never catch me again

..and anyway
One morning long ago I looked across the Morecambe bay
To see the tide roll in.
It seemed the sea was on skis that day
It came in so quick
Perhaps an optical trick
Or not.

Down
the streets that whisper names,
through lace curtains
people play their parlour games
twitching
sneaking looks from behind Gothic scripted leather bound books and overstuffed chairs
where ***** is taken and sherry drunk
and tea biscuits dunked in warm Earl Grey
and another day begins in mill house town.

Locomotives sweating steel feel their way
across the bridge
to Morecambe bay
where there's a different class of folk
used to smoke and steaming coal
to steam the fish within the bowl.

And the bowl is either empty or it is not
never in between,
Like the life we live a lot is never seen
but talked in murmurs on street corners
by former miners
agitators
free creative thinking men who know to use the pen and not the sword but they're starving all the same
all in the name
democracy.

We see it differently
a heresy that's being perpetrated to dislocate and disengage and put poor people in a cage.
In the zoo you'll come to see
democracy through iron bars
Tsars that's what these suited tyrants are
well suited to the task in hand
to strip the land of all its wealth
and let's not forget the National health which is good enough for me and you
they'll feed us anything here in the zoo.
Bupa now that is super for the supermen and ladies too who come to visit on Saturdays at the zoo.
I don't know what to do
should I laugh or cry or demonstrate
or have I left it all too late?
What a ******* awful state we're in
It's one for all or ****** all and then we'll fall
into the straw
strewn ******* across the floor in cage 3b
I see but can't decide
have I died and gone to hell?
well
only time will tell.

My first cigarette was at twelve years old,
under the climbing frame,
after my turn on the monkey bars.

My mate told me not to do it-
he tried to take it off me but
was too late.
I’ve been trying to quit ever since.
Soon after, that little climber
discovered cider, yearned
for something wider and
ended up with alcohol poisoning by
the end of the year.

My first stand-up gig was Lee Mack.
I was 13.
I sat right at the back on the balcony and revelled in the
happy faces below me.
Ending with a slow motion impression of Eric Morecambe,
I could’ve sworn it was the fastest hour of my life.
I can’t believe I was
So naïve.

When I sat my first exam at sixteen,
an hour seemed a minute.
Crash forward to A-levels and I
was being examined in a
therapist’s office-
how the tables had turned.
Ticking boxes to be assessed and there’s no way I can
pass this test because a
high score can only mean
very bad things.

How can life be so virile, yet so lacking and sterile?

I was told I’d find myself at uni
But I’ve ended up losing myself at twenty.

The little boy looked out on Morecambe Bay
And wiped a tear away
‘so many of them all about to die’
God doesn’t want to help them daddy why?
‘Well son they’re not the same as you and me’

‘but teacher told me God loves all creatures........................
..............even cockles in the sea”
“I’ll pray and he will save them”

Zaijian

The day my head exploded was a normal sort of day,
I was walking with my sausage dog
along the sands of Morecambe bay,
when all at once which happened twice, something occurred
which wasn't nice.
The shifting sands with shifting hands clasped me tightly by the legs,my sausage dog thought it a game but the hands reached out and grabbed him just the same.
We both thought that this was the end,
me and sausage,
mans best friend.
Sinking slowly in the sands,the dog and I held by those hands which gripped us ever tighter.
it might have been an act of God or it may have been my sausage dog who saved my life,
just when all seemed lost and done,
my head exploded like a gun and out of it came a length of hope which dog and I fastened to a rope and slowly pulled ourselves quite free from those grasping hands and the greedy sea.
Afterwards,
after a cup of tea and a bonio,( for the dog you know)
we decided not to go
that way on a walk again.

This August day
we set out across the ever shifting sands at Morecambe bay

mechanics if the heart can mend,
tending flock
taking stick and stock to and of the tidal movement.

The cockles black,
******* against the sea,
good for food and food for tea.

we turn away from Grange
and rearrange internal compass
heading for home shore.

This we see and
all of this
is free

always should be but you can never tell
however until hell freezes over Morecambe bay
we
will forever have this
August day.

Like a maestro on her rostrum
she waves her arms, conducting
a symphony of clouds and sun,
synchronizing showers with sleet and snow.

Or a white witch casting her spells
on Lakeland fells and Pendle Hill,
from Morecambe Bay to Liverpool,
where slave ghosts haunt the cotton coast,
from Merseyside to Manchester,
then chants she changes over Cheshire.

She weaves her isotherms and bars
through the warp and weft of our map,
wreathing those Western Approaches,
where siren sea nymphs shimmer.

Please don’t move to Blackpool
You’ll only waste your time
These are things that I’ve found
To make you change your mind

I spent a year one day in Morecambe
A dreary night in Rhyl
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
And I believe that still

A bunker out in Baghdad
A tent at Calais port
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
The Fylde coasts ugly wart

A cruise ship full of Covid
A plane about to crash
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
It’s ugly & it’s brash.

A cell in Bangkok’s Hilton
Chernobyl’s poisoned land
But there’s nowhere worse than Blackpool
This place I cannot stand

Coffee
Rich and dark
Slowly spinning in a white cup,
Therapeutic aromatherapy
Creating a warm feeling
Even sophisticated,
A smell that sells houses


Breakfast
Sizzling, crackling into life
Taste-buds still blurred
From the grogginess of sleep,
Bacon and eggs
Like Morecambe and Wise
An inseparable odd couple


Newspaper
Folded and re-folded
Onto an article of vague interest,
Words from another world
Unimaginable, war torn, desolate,
Colder than the rain-washed street
Outside this café window


Cigarette
The first of the day
Smouldering between yellowed
Fingers moulded to its shape,
Smoke slightly burning eyes
That are awakening to
Another fragment of life

I visited my old man when he was just a coupla’days from death.
He looked serene as I walked down the ward…
dozing with a satisfied, benign smile - like he was still glad to be alive.
He opened one eye when he ‘felt’ me arrive
“Now then”... He said… “this Morphine… It’s ****** brilliant stuff.
I tell you what - if I’d known how good this’d make me feel
I’d ‘ave been a right ******! I can’t get enough!

What he’d actually said… had been…
“If my mother’s milk made me feel this good
I’d never have been weened!”
I know… Not the most pleasant turn of phrase.
But come on - just an old guy - at the end of his days

“So pa..Eighty Five? What do you reckon?… A good run?”
"Well, apart from the great depression and 2nd World War…It’s been quite fun".
but I’d have been a lot happier if your mam hadn’t gone before.
What’s the point without her to balance me out…
She’d ride shotgun, map read on trips out,
and we had laughs galore
We were a double act, Morecambe & Wise, Little & Large -
Margaret & Bud! That was us!
So now I’m right fed up of being on me own…it’s no good -
I don’t like flying solo - alone.
Being on my tod in the day, well that ain’t so bad.
But come the evening the loneliness - it’s driving me ****** mad.”

“And now there’s all this *****”… He points at where the tubes go.
Like this…What’s it really all about? there’s just - well I don’t know…
You should be able to choose when it’s time to end - time to go.
Not hang around rudderless without your best friend.
I’ll be off in a couple of days then you can get on with things
not hanging around - worrying about me… and he was right.
Just tweak that dial on the drip stand and… I’ll shove off,
circle around and choose a new place to land…
Don’t worry - There is such a thing as reincarnation you know.
So, see you when I find me feet…hopefully - in the afterglow!"

Why
when they're gone
the images linger on
and on,
it makes me wonder
when they're gone

echoes that reverberate

'time to get up or you'll be late,
wash behind your ears,
go and play,
dry your tears and
we shall go to
Morecambe bay'

pictures that lighten
that brighten
are right on
the button and

all have a say in it
somewhere in the way of it
and it
goes on and
on and even
when they're gone
they become the

wandering echoes that
move slowly across
my day.





'

It possesses you
depresses you
but you're
Morecambe rock
through and through.

I approach the trough of
Bowland
Northwest lowland.
but
high land and
wooded too

new ideas spring to mind
yet
like the branches
of a tree
I unwind into a
Winter sleep

ideas will keep
they always do.

The sands of Morecambe beach
are still there,but out of
reach,
memories teach me
to hold on.

The cross that's carved deep
because
we have to keep a memento.

but I know without seeing
that someone is keying
the code in
forever
sticking the nails in.

Have you been to the place beyond
the place where you think
you can't face it?

it's somewhere behind me,
waiting to catch up and grind
me down doing a
left, right
left, right
marching off into the,
is that daylight?

Words fail me as the scales fall away
and the Dragon breathes fire across,
what was the name of that bay?

watching Morecambe on the
web cam
an old man on a trolleybus
going to the fayre.

This is a stand up routine
it's like a bad dream
I once had and
the weather is bad

can you see me laughing?

But the tube is no place for a
self pity session.

Lots of rosy red cheeks
I sneak peeks
and that's how I know,

and quiet too
as if the
cold's got their
tongues

the cat's not worried
he has nine lives.

It's only Tuesday
which is nether here
nor Morecambe bay
but
I'm drowning anyway.

When I thaw out I'll
go out to gnaw at
what's left of the
morning

I might be some time.

I should have worn my
long johns,
a thermal underlay
for a ****** cold day
but I forgot

I won't make that mistake
again.

He
trains his brain to remember
but can't remember what for.

It helps me to melt into another day
and assists me to flow downstream
but not into Morecambe bay because that's a long way away from this underground
and
down here it's not so clear.

I should turn around
swim against the current
until I've found
what it is that I'm looking for.

Being brave is a long haul from being strong
so I'll carry in with the tidal
keep those suicidal
thoughts buried deep.

and he?
he dies on a distant horizon.

But there is some good cheer
the weekend's almost here and
some quality time for me and for mine.

Still flowing
slowly
but going
and going is what we all do.

A day out
with my brothers, my sis' and all the family
Morecambe by the sea,

there wasn't much sand back then
but we didn't mind
man said, 'don't look at the sun or
you'll go blind'.
dad told us that during the war
he captained a tank,
he couldn't drive a car though.

Dangling strings that caught on to those things that clung on to the strings, one needs patience to catch a crustacean and we had lots,

ice cream and jelly tots for tea, 'eat them slowly and they'll last longer'
sage advice
but they tasted so nice and gone.

we kids,
the knicker focker glories
made up from the stories
we think we were told.

The boy stood on the burning deck
His legs were all a-quiver
He gave a cough
His leg fell off
And floated down the river.




Saturday night 70's telly.

The twenty twenty went
and we spent most of it
doing our bit
to keep the virus at bay,
but
not at Morecambe bay
because
that's my sacred place.

Now I face head on
the new year, now that
the old one has gone.
long live
twenty twenty one.

Overcast
which reminds me of the time I went sea fishing out of Morecambe bay, it was a school day but that didn't bother me, the sea was more educational,
so
instead of just dropping the line I cast out and that's where the overcast comes in, the line shot off the reel and it cost me another shilling to replace it.

still overcast
i dunno if the sun's on furlough but it may as well be.

Threatening rain?
ha
something is always threatening something or someone until something else comes along to threaten something with something else, but it is dull out there today almost as if Van whatsisname had put his palette of colours away and daubed
everything in grey.

Where shall I not go today,
Brighton,
Blackpool,
Morecambe Bay?
there are lots of places
to not go today
and
tomorrow
I shall find even more.

It's a circus to fool us into thinking that life is
under one big top which is full of,..
..full of..
full. Stop

we've seen this show before. they say,
a replay a day keeps reality at bay
which wouldn't be Morecambe Bay,
would it?

The scales have been weighted
and we're being short-changed
I don't need a clown to tell me
that.

The lions are making adverts for chocolate
the monkeys make adverts for tea
that only leaves Tony the tiger and
I think that he's hungry for me.

The day came in and it was like
bowling nine pins,
we all went down to the market town,
kids on a mission to have some fun.

Fred, the fruit and veg man who had just opened up his stall gave us all a Granny Smith's,
green and sweet and the fish man in the fish van
smelled like Morecambe bay on a bad day, but his fish
were top notch.
second-hand books worth more than second-hand looks,
we devoured them and then devoured some more,
Woolworths
Fine Fare
always a laugh to run through there
and chip shop where we'd stop to catch
our breath and sometimes lunch.

Penny Street, a good name and China street,
worlds apart but felt the same,
the rocking horse store
the library
should have been put in the museum
for posterity,

just racing along up memory lane
until the lights go out.