h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

You get older, get sort of numb,
Run slower, some days can't sing.
Life sneaks up, bites you on the bum.
You forget. Next day, the same thing.

Glory hallelujah, Glory hallelujah Tony's got a new pony.
Glory hallelujah, Glory hallelujah Tony's found a gold crown.
Gory hallelujah, Glory hallelujah Tony's now friends with Maloney.
Glory hallelujah, Glory hallelujah Tony wears a fine silk gown.

Tony will be marching with Maloney to the final battle
where will be used as weapons which will make everyone very happy.
And some fighters will come with a teething dummy and a baby's rattle.
Some will sit on the sidelines complimenting bees on how well they make their honey.

Delicious meals are made out of chicken and chips
as well as corned beef hash when you're strapped of cash.
Having the most scarlet of lipsticks with give you luscious lips
and if you're going out for the bus you'd better make a dash
or you'll be late to see you best mate who's waiting for you at the fete.
And they'll be singing a song about their favourite coffee bar
where they had their first slice of triple chocolate gateau served on a tea plate.

Coffee gateau and slices of chocolate cake?
That's the best of self-service with a smile
And what's this? Piles of food, names hidden,
To add to it all?

To add
To add
To add to it all
On the groaning, yet grinning, plate?
TT, your dreams are such
That even when not real
I'd love to borrow them, for a plate or two,
Yea, very, very much!

Borrow a fine dream,
And pass me the cream.
I'll eat all I want,
And nevertheless shan't
Gain pounds of fat,
And that is that!

feel free with self-serving yourself the cream
- that's the advantage of a dream.

go on - serve yourself
again
and then
a little more
it's what dreams were
made for

Thanks Jabs

Take me back to the land that I love
and I will coo like a turtle dove.
Take me where the water is crystal clear
and I will share with you a pint of beer.
Take me to the place where dreams come true
and I will share with you a large pot of rabbit stew.

Does rabbit meat like chicken taste?
I ask, "Will it go to my waste?"
If not, what spices should I add?
Would it appeal to my old Dad?

[In my previous post, "Waste" should have been "waist." ]

Let's do it again, like we did last year.
Let's laugh again with a glass of champagne.
Let's go and dance with the very merry bear.
Let's start a kissing and a hugging campaign.

Go and move it with your whole body.
Go and swing to the right with all your might.
Go and listen to all the hits of Showaddywaddy.
Go and boogie to the disco beat all night.

For years, at night I turned and tossed,
Bothered by the Boogey Man, though not with fright.
The music, the noise -- any wonder I was lost?
The Boogey Man would boogey through the night.

Let's dance all night for part of the night to the music
Of Beethoven and Mahler
The joyful and the tragic sense of self
Then let's go home when it's that time of night
To the music of the traffic, the bus and Wagner.
Each of us lining up for the undertaker's shelf.

It's a long way to Tipperary,
It's a long way home.

Let's all join in a collective moan on the phone
to Tone about not having a clone.
Let's all cause a cyclone by playing the trombone
whilst sitting on a throne made of stone.
Let's all escape to the Twilight Zone
with Joan and her animated jam buttered scone.

A shame, if your rabbit should go to waste,
No matter how good the meat might taste.
So pour a good whisky, to hell with the cost,
As long you don't end up going bust.
If your middle expands, why you're not to blame,
Tis the expense of spirit in a waist of shame.

You can rabbit all day
You can rabbit all night
Chances are, you will never get it right.

If wehad ait go in no pot
He'd hop in the shade where it is'nt to hot
he'd have no floppy ears,they'd stick up quite pert
Given he's male, he'd be fondly called Bert

Bert would love to drink whisky with us
Has drinking, it ran in his families genus
Only then would his ears start to bend
And off to his rabbit hutch we would then lovingly send

Very few read my poetry
So very few get the chance to see
If I'm wobbling down
Or bubbling up
In the wild surrounding mystery
Of the tall black rocks marching into the sea.

There are those, who hear all that you've meant
Before it is thought, written or sent
On lifes rocks, they sit right by your side
when your stuck for some words,they do so happly guide.

I understand your poetry,
Even though I don't read it.
Everyone has tall black rocks
To deal with in his life,
But I didn't read about the
Rocks in your poetry.
It was my evil twin that read it!
He's hiding behind the rocks
At the moment.
The rocks neither know Nor care.

You have an evil twin ?
You know, by his
Yet you see him only in the mirror
Its you ,you devious terror