I’m in the band called “Beg Your Pardon”
Our latest, “The Luddits Headway”
Sells well, and the “Forest of Arden”
Our hit, has got some airplay
There ain’t no plans for touring though:
The phase of changes lingers on
Our singer left to form the “Zoo”
Our drummer yesterday has gone
The reason was the weak attendance
Our captive crowd went away
Eventually, our independence
Drifts in the truest luddits way..
For goodness sake, I’m not complaining
You see me busking every day
Still “Beg Your Pardon” stuff I’m playing
Although it sounds a bit too plain
In my rendition, but who cares
The people pass me on the street
Last night a lady from upstairs
Came down, and we talked a bit
She was a bassist in “Murango”
An ethnic band that played worldwide
I put some jazz, we danced a tango
Got a few clappings in the night.
The evolution of a song;
Blasted beat builds
soft lyrics tie it together;
Music’s lure wields;
A melody becomes timeless,
so much airplay;
Endorphins always deliver
a brighter day.
James Last and Jackie Rae
teamed up to pen a song from yesterday.
This pleasant tune that was so fine,
was recorded by two artists in 1969.
Andy Williams and Petula Clark
sang great versions that were right on the mark.
Both got famous and received lots of airplay.
The two releases remain popular today.
This song that went high on the music chart,
was none other than "Happy Heart".
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
Well oh well, it's another new day
Checked for vital signs, all seem okay
Good for a while yet
Fooled you I bet
This old codger's still got more airplay
The greatest love song
written
never made airplay
Somewhere, shes
grinning because
she dances every time
she hears
"I've been missing you"
Inspiration occurs
when she's on my mind
inclination tips brain cells
towards new patterns
Sparking a realization
her matter is all that matters
I write lines
that produce elevated
energy cost,
Mentally, she gets me
heated
bodies need bundling
hearts protecting
My all-in is as deep as it gets
Metaphors
stab somewhere
in the vicinity of
eye rolls and bitten lips
Sweet soliloquy!
Shut the front door
The world can't handle
our volume
So lend me your ear
dance,
for all you need
bankrupt my existence
and be my ATM
It's true, the greatest love song
never made it beyond
just for her moments
Copyright pending
Birds to watch r' alotta fun
In the garden while they play
Alongside weeds and shrubs overrun
They flock to the open outdoor spray
Which cools them off when they come
To scrabble and sachet for airplay
Hummingbirds to watch r' alotta fun
Their long, narrow beaks survey
Pollinating flowers, while scattering seeds in the sun
Flying through the fine mist, open air spray
Searching on flower dung
For nectar from blossoms display
Butterflies to watch r alotta fun
Drinking from shallow puddle lots
Hang on flat flowers as they sun
And on dim, draggy, ho hum, rocks, sunny spots
To themselves to warm their wings some
Perched on a sunny branch, grass stem lots
Tis' all shelter, breeding places, nesting sites
For O' beloved winged creatures n' rockery orchard delights
Well oh well, it's another new day
Checked my vital signs, all seem okay
Good for while yet
Fooled you I bet
This old codger's still got more airplay
Punk Britannia, Britannia rules the waves,
England never never never will be slaves
To the master of the medioicre and mundane
Who rehashes the same ideas again and again...
Oh, wait.
I think it's too late.
The carcass of an exciting, original culture
Is pulled apart by the Syco vulture,
Eager for a further empire expansion,
Perhaps a new wing for the country mansion...
Who cares what it sounds like? As long as they buy it;
It's catchy, infectious and they can't deny it.
Innovation is over-rated anyway -
It doesn't get you Radio One airplay.