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AP Wolf
Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 494
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 05, 2003 - 1:26 pm: | 
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Heavens above, this channel is getting busy.
I better set meself to writing some poesie or I’ll get left behind.
Enjoying all the efforts, but hey Caz you really rapping here.
Your piece was so good that I’ll have to see if I can’t rap it.
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Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1177
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 05, 2003 - 1:41 pm: |
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Hi Petra and Caz
Enjoyed those. I too must put my nose to the grindstone.
Robert |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1178
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Wednesday, November 05, 2003 - 2:50 pm: |
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Hi all
THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES
An old man on the point of death
Eased his soul with troubled breath :
"We were down on whores, and on their whore tricks.
I'll tell you the story, just pass me my Horlicks.
"Martha Tabram was killed by young Tom,
A man described as a ticking bomb.
Thirty-nine stabs but he made a slip :
The nincompoop forgot to rip.
"Polly Nichols was next to drop off,
Half-ripped by a lackadaisical toff.
Lazy Lord Salisbury made her croak
(He'd vowed to cut vices at a stroke).
"Druitt killed Annie, but you can stick it.
Why couldn't he just keep to cricket?
Strangled her and laid her flat,
Whipped out her womb and cried 'Owzat?'
"Kosminski was assigned Long Liz.
If ever a murder was bungled, 'twas his.
Cut her throat, then voice in his head
Told him to toddle straight off to bed.
"Joe Barnett with a nonchalant air
Slaughtered Kate in Mitre Square.
Stole her gynaecological gear,
Hid it in bottle of ginger beer.
"The last was Kelly, and she was mine.
Didn't get caught - not even a fine.
Gave up ripping after that,
Decided it was all old hat.
So that's the story of my past,
Of how the victims breathed their last
And how we murdered by committee,
Sure as my name is Walter Mitty."
Robert
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Caroline Anne Morris
Inspector
Username: Caz
Post Number: 464
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2003 - 7:09 am: |
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Loved that one Robert!
THESE GHOULISH THINGS
oh I was always wild and free
oh and they somehow let me be
but the bloody ties that bound me are still around me
tho' I escaped it's plain to see
and still those little things remain
that brought me comfort and her pain
a broken pipe that bears a cachous' traces
an old pawn ticket for men's boots with laces
but where's that apron with strings?
these ghoulish things
remind me of her
a tickled-up ovary in my last apartment
two wombs, a kidney, lord knows where that heart went
and still the painted whore sings
these ghoulish things
remind me of her
I came, I saw, I took the whore
when I did that to her, I somehow knew what I did it for
the march of time that made my mind a dancer
the cry of 'murder' - but who was there to answer?
oh, how the ghost of her clings
these ghoulish things
remind me of her
the smell of death that lingers on a pillow
those grapes I bought her that she wouldn't swallow
and still I have the brass rings
these ghoulish things
remind me of her
the sigh of midnight hag with empty tummy
silk hanky by my side I acted chummy
oh, how she died for such things -
such foolish things -
remind me of her
the smile of Satan and the scent of violet
the young rogue whistling as I pass the harlot
the song the last one sings
and sings and sings
reminds me of her
how strange, how sweet, to find them still
these things are dear to me
that seem to bring her so near to me
the scent of smould’ring clothes, a shiny farthing
a couple on the street who walk off laughing
oh, how the ghost of her clings
these ghoulish things
remind me of her, just her
(With thanks - and humble apologies - to Maschwitz/Strachey, according to the blurb on my Bryan Ferry CD)
Caz
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Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1180
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2003 - 10:55 am: |
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Hi Caz
Very funny, and very clever! Well! All I can offer is the following feeble rejoinder, with apologies to Noel Coward :
Mad whores and fiendish men go out in the East End cold.
Posh women wouldn’t care to
'Twould disarrange their hairdo.
Well-trained and sheepish men
Do exactly as they’re told
And go to bed by sundown
Quite rundown.
On the cricket field
All eyes are sealed
As soon as the last ball’s bowled.
No candidate
Will stay up late
To discover what he’s polled.
Casanova fled
Back to his bed
Before the day was old.
But mad whores and fiendish men go out in the East End cold.
Mad whores and fiendish men go out in the East End cold,
Though harlots know it’s risky
To seek a client frisky.
Jack comes a-creeping round in his boots that are rubber-soled,
He takes his strange mementoes
And then goes.
Now Lewis fair
Slumbered in the chair
When she gave her man a scold,
And in her dream
Prater heard a scream
But merely tossed and rolled,
Prince Edward too
Was on the loo,
He’d had all he could hold.
But mad whores and fiendish men go out in the East End cold.
Robert
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AP Wolf
Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 497
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2003 - 1:21 pm: |
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Blimey! You two are putting me in the shade.
I'm really enjoying these poems and take-offs.
Caz must have sat up all night with a bottle of brandy and her safety razors - gilletes to you - to have knocked that out, very credible stuff, very funny too, and Robert I am always amazed at your ability to respond to a poetic challenge almost before the glove is thrown down.
I have been busy trying to throw together a theory that encompasses Tutankhamen's tomb, stonehenge, the invention of the shell-less cachou nut, the production of a nut that looks like a pastille, the assassination of John Lennon, tidal flows in the Thames estuary, Freemasons in stringless aprons - an invention of mine and the boys do look very fetching in them - and the Loyal Order of Chicken Stranglers, plus of course the murder and mutilation of five nondescript and ineffectual whores in Whitechapel in 1888.
It is proving a tad harder than I thought, but I'm sure I can smooth the edges and roll it out as a new bestseller by the time the brandy bottle is empty. |
Caroline Anne Morris
Inspector
Username: Caz
Post Number: 467
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2003 - 1:44 pm: |
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Hi AP,
No indeed, when I saw Robert's words THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES this morning it put me in mind of a song and foolish things came to me at once - no brandy, no Bic razors, just grabbed the CD with the original words and I was away, all done in the time it'd take to shave me legs.
Must admit, I've started on the Hardy's white wine now though, waiting for hubby and daughter to arrive home with a Chinese (not sure what I'm going to do with Ho Wot Fun yet, but a tinkle on the ivories might be good - a duet, chopsticks probably.)
Love,
Caz (hic!)
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AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 501
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Friday, November 07, 2003 - 2:26 pm: |
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Hey Joe
What you doing with that blood on your hand?
Hey Joe
What you doing with that pump in your hand?
Hey Joe.
‘I just got back from killing Kelly in her bed
And now I’m just washing down blood red.’
Hey Joe
You should do that sort of thing at night
You know.
Hey Joe
This daylight is much too bright
In fact it almost resembles daylight.
Hey Joe
You want to do your stuff at night
Cos’ then light is not quite so bright.
Hey Joe
Where you going with that heart in your hand?
Hey Joe
Why you sticking your head in the sand?
‘I just got back from sticking some whore
Just behind that half-locked door
Cos she didn’t pay the rent
And then my knife got bent.’
Hey Joe
Where you going with that knife in your hand?
Hey Joe
You want to join a rock and roll band.
‘Big black cloud coming on down on me
Big black cloud I cannot see
Knock knock knocking on heaven’s whores
Knock knock knocking on heaven’s door…
Today is going to be the day when I pay it all back to you
By now you should have realised what it is I’m going to do.’
Hey Joe
Where you going with that knife in your hand?
Music fades to Woodstock…
We were half a million strong.
(purely inspired by a bottle of rare Tullamore Dew found in the cellar along with various theories concerning Atlantis, the building of the pyramids and Joe the fish porter).
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Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1191
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Friday, November 07, 2003 - 4:45 pm: |
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Bravo, AP!
Maria, I've just killed a girl called Maria,
And suddenly that dame
Won't play her sneaky game with me.
Maria, I've just killed a girl called Maria,
And suddenly I've found
How slippery the ground can be.
Maria! Say it loud and there's violets playing.
Say it soft and it's almost like slaying.
Maria, I'll never stop flaying Maria.
...........................
My friends were always putting him down,
They said he killed in the wrong side of town.
They said he was bad,
But I knew he was mad,
That's why I fell for the bleeder known as Jack....
He rode off with my heart,
Accelerating his horse and cart
(His hansom wouldn't start)....
I felt so helpless, what could I do
Lying dead in bed with my blood turned to glue?
The stains they said it all,
He really drove me up the wall.
I'm sorry I met you, the bleeder known as Jack.
Robert |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1194
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Friday, November 07, 2003 - 6:46 pm: |
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AP,Caz
Here's another Bryan Ferry one :
Make me a deal, and make it straight
All signed and sealed, I'll take it.
To Robert James Lees I'll show it,
Clairvoyant doesn't yet know it,
But I've been around a long time
Trying to dodge that blasted number 39.
Take me to all Millwall's cup ties,
Hang around McCarthy's stores.
Hokey-cokey through to sunrise
Opens non-exclusive whores.
But what's real and make-believe?
Roll-up-smoking rabble-rousers
Set slight a mason's trousers.
I'll admit two hundred slaughters,
Bargain pleas like down the Lane,
Dodge the rope for prison quarters
Or get myself declared insane,
But wait! Can't you see those fishy porters?
What's her name?
It's Mary Jane.
Robert
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Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1196
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, November 08, 2003 - 6:59 am: |
|
Sorry to perpetrate yet another one:
MR DRUITT PROPOSES MARRIAGE
When I get older, losing my hair
Many years from now,
Will I still be working for George Valentine,
End up hooked on fisherman's line?
If I've been out till quarter to three
Have I ripped a whore?
Will the police need me,
Will they still heed me
When I'm sixty-four?
You'll be older too,
And if you say the word, I could bowl at you.
I could be handy blowing my fuse
When the cop has gone.
You could knit a shawl by Kelly's fireside,
Sunday morning go for a dive.
HM's free pardon, run out of leads,
Who could ask for more?
Will the police need me,
Will they still heed me
When I'm sixty-four?
Every summer we could rent a barber's off Commercial Street
With George Chapman near.
We shall crimp and shave.
Grandchildren on your knee
Phillips, Bond and Gabe.
Send me a postcard, drop me a line –
Proper red stuff glue.
Just address the letter to Dear Boss and say
"Saucy Jacky got clean away."
Killed by a chancer, body still warm –
Slumped upon the floor.
Will the police need me,
Will they still heed me
When I'm sixty-four?
Robert
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AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 503
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, November 08, 2003 - 1:05 pm: |
|
Robert
you are really firing here!
I can't keep up, much like the Limo's these rip-offs are too much for my illogical mind.
I better to stick to SSB inspired poesie.
This is the best I can manage:
I get no rip from champagne
Alcohol does not thrill me at all
When I get a rip
When I get a rip
Out of you.
|
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1197
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Saturday, November 08, 2003 - 2:46 pm: |
|
Nice one, AP. I'll try and get back to some serious stuff. But I warn you, I may well perpetrate a JTR "Christmas Alphabet" before Yuletide.
Robert |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 507
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 09, 2003 - 11:43 am: |
|
Robert
I'm enjoying the take-offs so perpetrate away.
I just can't do this sort of thing myself.
More is the pity. |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1199
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 09, 2003 - 12:12 pm: |
|
Hi AP
There's a few that I've started but can't really make work, like Maria Harvey :
Start spreading the news,
I'm leaving today.
I want to be a part of it,
New Court, New Court.
I'll wait and see if Caz comes up with anything.
I enjoy doing them, but I'd also like to do another serious one before too long.
Robert |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1200
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, November 09, 2003 - 1:09 pm: |
|
Just thought of one :
Joe has gone round to Mary's in the middle of the night to plead with her :
It's quarter to three
There's no one in the place except you and me.
So hurry up Joe,
Now I've heard your story you can drink up and go.
Afraid it's the end,
And my friend
There's no need to explode.
So make it one for your baby,
And one more for the road.
Just so you know it,
You can take your pipe and throw it,
'Cause there's something that I gotta say.
Alhough I'm woozy,
Don't wanna be your floozy,
Specially if you can't pay.
Well that's how it goes.
Just to spite your face you're gonna cut off my nose.
Thanks for the beer,
But is it so essential to slice off my ear?
Guess I'll be found
Strewn around
This disgusting abode.
So make it one for your baby,
And one more for the road.
Robert
|
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1202
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 10, 2003 - 4:00 am: |
|
Well I did it anyway :
HARVEY MOVES A FEW YARDS DOWN THE STREET
Start spreading the news,
I'm leaving today.
I want to be a part of it,
New Court, New Court.
Jack's rubber-soled shoes,
I hope they don't stray
Into the very heart of it,
New Court, New Court.
I've got a feeling Kelly's booked for one long sleep.
And I don't wanna be killed,
Tossed on Jack's heap.
These Spital town blues
Are turning me grey,
Each thug and pimp and tart of it
Just ain't my sort.
But if I can make it there
Maybe I can move up to Mayfair -
It's up to you New Court, New Court.
Robert |
jane
Unregistered guest
| | Posted on Friday, November 07, 2003 - 10:45 pm: |
|
Sorry to intrude, but seeing all these parodies I just couldn't resist. And so, with deepest apologies to W.S. Gilbert:
As someday it may happen that a killer must be found,
We've got a little list, we've got a little list
Of respectable Victorians, 'til now safe underground,
Named by Ripperologists, who on their finds insist:
There's the cricketer who comes down after every game from town,
Who ends his little killing spree when he decides to drown;
The cotton man from Liverpool, hepped up on arsenic;
Or Tumblety whose basement-full of jars would make you sick;
And a poet friend of Eddy's, a confirmed misogynist;
They've been added to the list, by Ripperologists.
There's of course the batty midwife with her inconspicuous looks;
and the mad abortionist -- we've got him on the list!
And everyone's lighthearted friend who wrote the Alice books;
you thought that he'd be missed, but no, he's on the list!
There's the Duke of Clarence, all his friends: a whole conspiracy;
And what's-his-name, the wandering Jew -- you know -- Ka-something-sky;
There's a porter and an artist (that Pat claims was full of hate);
And basically anyone alive in eighty-eight;
For it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list
Of that eager hobbyist, the Ripperologist!
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Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1208
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 10, 2003 - 1:31 pm: |
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I enjoyed that very much, Jane. Hope you can send some more.
No intrusion! Everyone welcome!
Robert |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1209
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 10, 2003 - 2:15 pm: |
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"SHE WAS ALWAYS SINGING"
That certain night,
The night they met
There were policemen abroad everywhere.
They might as well have dined at Ritz,
For a nightingale sank in Mitre Square.
I may be right,
I may be wrong,
There were 300 night watchmen there.
But in and out Jack darts and flits,
And a nightingale sank in Mitre Square.
The moon it lingered over London town.
Jack viewed his hands and gave a frown.
He wiped them on poor Katy's ragged cloth,
Dropped the thing and then was off.
While in the night,
The saddest sight,
She was lying with blood in her hair.
And death upon her shoulder sits.
A nightingale sank in Mitre Square.
Robert
|
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 514
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 10, 2003 - 2:21 pm: |
|
Robert
you are going wild here, can't keep up with you.
As soon as my glasses arrive I will catch up.
Loved the nightingale. |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1210
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 10, 2003 - 2:39 pm: |
|
Thanks AP.
I sympathise with your glasses situation. I always have a couple of spare, out of date and old pairs, because I find that even they are better than nothing.
Robert |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 517
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Monday, November 10, 2003 - 4:21 pm: |
|
Got it in one Robert
I'm spare, out of date and old...
and have no glasses...
except me good old brandy glasses which I stare into fondly in the hope of glimpsing more. |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1214
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 11, 2003 - 7:07 am: |
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Jack prowled the streets of London town, hither and thither, back and forth, hoping perchance some victim to find.
But he was several hours at it, you understand, for truth to tell he was very short-sighted, in fact nearly blind.
So he couldn't really see what he was doing, and once got a vicar.
Which staggered him somewhat, and administered a nasty jolt to his ticker.
And he vowed there and then to never again under any circumstances go out on his ripping lark and leave his glasses behind.
AP, that was a stretch Limo.
Robert |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 519
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, November 11, 2003 - 1:22 pm: |
|
I enjoyed the ride in the stretch but next time get me one with a fridge in the back. I like my ice cubes square and hard.
Thought you might like this little ditty, Robert.
Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
You say disorganised and I say disorganized
Let's call the whole thing off.
You say organised and I say disorganized
Let's call the whole thing off.
For you say disorganized and I say organised
So let's call the whole thing off
let's call the whole thing off.
ps. I don't know about Jack being organised but I reckon his victims were certainly dis-organ-ized. |
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