A TRULY APPALLING POEM
atAt the Interfaith Service on Sunday, in front of 150 people, I was obliged to read this naughty poem. I had left it too late to write something sensible, but much to my delight everyone absolutely loved it. Yes, I agree, it is an appalling poem, very silly and I have to say… I enjoyed writing it.
Here’s what I said: We live in a place full of beautiful old buildings, and many of them have been converted into flats… which can create a lot of noise for those that live in these conversions… occasionally bad feeling arises between neighbours. Ours is a restless City and I wanted to write about that, but sometimes a bit of writing goes off in a silly direction, and you can’t stop it… and so I am asking you to share this silly direction with me in a poem called Peace in a Restless City
The great houses of old
Were bought and then sold
Transformed into flats
Full of babies that yell
Plus cats and loud dogs
And people with clogs
Tap dancing like hell…
It’s all part of a restless city
The list of loud pain
Gives us cause to complain
So much screaming and clamour
Drumming beats with a hammer
Scary traffic with horns
Screaming seagulls and storms
It’s all part of a restless city
The noise is absurd
Its decibels heard
By a geezer next door
And the bloke down the drain
Not to mention Jim and Sally
Vacating in Spain
But far, far away in deep outer space
An alien race from the cruel planet Zog
With pink and blue knobbles
And tentacles too
Known to the fans of the great Dr Who
Are just overjoyed with the noise (they love it)
Because they eat and drink noise
So they decided to visit our restless City
The dustbins crash
The bottles smash
The foxes scream
While the extra terrestrials
Swoop and then dive
And choose to arrive
In Churchill Square
Where they alight in IKEA
Feeling very much at home
And they shout in stentorian tones
‘We are the Zoggies from Planet Zog,
Beware! Beware!’ (If they were Daleks they would say Exterminate, Exterminate)
But amazingly quite amazingly
Despite their horrific pink and blue knobbles
And terrifying tentacles too
Nobody is frightened
Can you guess why nobody is frightened?
It’s because we all think
They come from Brighton!
Most certainly not from Hove
And there’s music as well
And a terrible smell
Fried onions and chips
Mixed with biscuits and dips
Which work like a treat
‘Cos the Zoggies retreat
They do noise
But they do not do smells…
So they fly back
To the further regions of outer space
In a state of total shock
Well, who can blame them?
And the seagulls all yell
And far away there’s a bell
That rings out quite clear
Through the mist and the fog
“We have lost the weird legions
Of persons from Zog”
(You know something…)
They didn’t even stay to see the Pavilion (that is so rude)
Even the Duke and Duchess of Sussex spent 20 minutes in the Pavilion.
This is a City of Sanctuary
It’s also a City of Peace
Also a City of friendship
With its chips and its grot and its grease
And its rock and its pebbles
And its wild seagull rebels
A noise I must say
That’s reportedly treble
Anything you might get in Eastbourne
But don’t despair…
If the cat snoozes on your lap
And the sea fret stops fretting
And Brighton win at the Amex
You will, I’m certain… find peace one day in our lovely but very restless City
What a beautiful swinging singing crazy poem, just like Brighton ohhh I do miss it. Lovely job dear Ant xxx