Welcome to the cultural highpoint of this website, the long awaited Literary Corner M.D. On this page are the works of Roberto Ricardo, heir to the throne of Goshava and chief playwright of said kingdom. If you have any musings which you think might look good in this section, send 'em to santasmonkey@hotmail.com (that's not a link) and maybe I'll put them up. The link(s) to these pages are just below this. See?
Ms. Bonnie Lewis, Princess of Priskia
Mr. Matt Dorsey, Prince of Penniscula
The Greatest Poem in the World..... ever!
My hot off the press PLAY!!!! You've Got Voicemail
Even hotter off the press is part two of the play!!!! You've Got Voicemail II
NEW! The Tale Of Edward Ruxpin
EVEN NEWER!!! (But very old) The Madness of Mad Monk III
INCREDIBLY NEW What I Did At Easter
(Slow Blues)
The third time I saw July was in June at which point his wife, August introduced herself. She also let out a whine and this was pitched at G natural and as these two notes create harmony, their marriage had lasted 50 years and they were still madly in lust. When I sleep, I let out a slight whisp that has the pitch of B flat. If only I let out A sharp, because then I would complete the triad that the two had begun and maybe we would all three live in paradise together. Mind you, he does have furry ankles and you know, looking down to the bottom of the bed and seeing them is sightly off putting. He does like golf though....] and sixty days later we had burned down the whole town in a fit of rage unparalleled since B.T.Shutter's outburst at the Milltown Gargantuam Grape Growing Carnival when G.C.Veppor grew a perpendicular prune and won. B.T.Shutter ended the charade by hiring a B52 bomber and created a hole the size of Milltown. Alas, he missed the village and the Gargantuam Grape Growing Carnival is still running today.
I woke up this mornin', escaped from Alcatraz,
I woke up this mornin', escaped from Alcatraz,
Popped down to Basingstoke
And heard some fonky Jazz (It went a little like this)
(Suddenly singer goes hyper, swinging his arms
about and doing pelvic thrusts a-plenty.)
Dabba skabba do do da dee skippity shoo,
B'dum dum dum skibidy bob ping pong
Havva havva now how b'dum bum
(Singer adopts German accent)
Vot have ve got here, scum?
Scab boo dap dap skippety bar, ch'dam bam boo, nah.....
(Singer swigs a beer and sits back down)
I heard the chilled beats, drank a beer,
I heard the chilled beats, drank a beer,
You couldn't hear the music
'Cause of all the goddamn deer.
But I shot 'em all down.
Ha bee dee nah nah scew dum dush
Ba da da da skippety scew doo
Pa da da Pa da da dah dah dah
(Announcer)
And that was the cool breezy tones of Adrian and the Adrianettes
with their no.356 hit, Zing Zang Boogie featuring Ayma van Driver
on electric chopsticks, available on the LP Satan's Wooly Jumper from
Dreadnought Saviour Records.Here's another vibe, chill out brothers.
(Singer starts singin', picks up stool,
throws it in the air, catches it and
then flings it at a guy in the
front row, killing him instantly)
How now brown cow
I leave with a final bow,
I'm just off to the bar,
Cuppa char. (Thank you, you've been a lovely audience)
A Child's Christmas In Lower Gornal
The park is now possessed with a blanket of snow,
A's puppies slump and bleed "their final" drops,
The friends swing on the slide, observe the crow,
And the: bread mite steals the relinquished crops;
This food goeth down as I open the hatch
And gulp and gulp 'til I spew,
Maybe I'll bring up that stew,
Was that Grannie who blew,
Don't swallow just chew,
Let's play, give us a clue,
Oh, what a to do,
What's new ain't so new
'Cause it's all repeats, "ooo
It's Gremlins II: The New Batch." Ta ta.
You Want Intelligent Wit, Well Go And Ask Oscar Wilde. You Want Something Mildly Funny, I'm Your Man.
I'm your fan, Leonard Cohen.
Blueberry Tie Swaps
or "Is That A Female Tiger, Love"
Blueberry jam on my toast,
Tie tied nice and tight,
Swap Jimi Hendrix for Donny Hue
And fly my orange kite.
Peterborough's nice this time of year,
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way
And I am full of cheer,
Here here.
Surreality? Leave It To Renoir
This life drags by on its skinless back,
Providing endless toil and shocking pain;
When will it all end, this cruel torture?
The vicious knives will soon drive me insane.
Through the empty night, the wind brings death
From the satanic factories of hell
And all you hear is the hiss of time
As it passes by, a snake with a shell.
You can live happily, with a great wealth
But still your flesh will drop from your big bones.
Meanwhile I will contemplate this life,
All the problems caused by my list of loans.
Ha fooled ya, I'm a happy little fox
With a lovely wife and twenty plump kids,
All I do is sit home eating chocks
And with big scissors cut up my hybrids.
I bet you're not half as happy as I.
Song of the Country
Moo (Moo)
Song of the City
Beep beep, beep beep BEEP "!!!"
Chugga chugga chugga snip (oh shit
what the fuck was that?) wombing,
Tafta,neeyanightmarebodyhoney,
Groggily, groggily, snip stutter
Tafta, flip ship clop clop clop,
Moo, moo, moo- bang- moooooo
Squawk, buzz, buzz, buzzers, buzz.
Well, it's up to you.
Her, Who?
To Change The Mood
Boo doo bee doo wop ski bap boo,
I've just found out my pension's due,
Diddle dee doo dah bing bong, bow,
Daisy is a good name for a cow.
As I lay in my bed,
Strange things come to my head
Like cauliflower and garden shed
And how Michael Barrymore should be dead,
I wish I was out on the Med.
With some philidelphia and a slice of bread
And a funny little Welshman named Ted,
Who would frequently utter words ending with zed,
I knew a heavy metal like lead
Would scare Micael, he said,
That would do nout for my street cred
For it's only Dracula that I dread.
Bing doo doo bee nee naw skin do wop,
I hope "Barrymore's People" ITV will soon drop.
Ching ching, doo bee, I hate his guts.
Nursery
In the middle of the night,
It was a cause for the perfect drug.
In the middle of the night,
All I needed was a Trojan hug.
-Brie-
Smoothness exudes confidence,
Frenchmen exude lazer rays,
Until I'm sick of the days.
Pixie pixie how come you come,
Are tricks not so fab anymore?
Are the gnomes revolting against you
Because of your annoying snore?
-Cathedral City-
7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
In order to clean your clothes,
You need a suitable detergent-
One that everybody loathes.
[in Berkshire accent]
How many sittings are there left,
More than the drains in our road?
More than the gypsies in Alaska?
Surely less than the forks on a toad.
[in Scouse accent]
-Stilton-
[back to Berkshire accent]
The birds on the building are calling
To me on the ferry by the sea.
I call back but they don't listen,
Probably my effigy.
Tony Giulla, Barb and Hugh,
Trent, Sean Beavan, Jay, Missi,
Jeff Anderson, Gerry Gerrard, Rich,
Sam Kirby, Garret and Maxie.
[end of Berkshire accent]
-Iceberg-
Crying Makes You Bleed
Thirty years on and he realised genocide was a happier medium to work with than clown training. They could be so damn frustrating- throwing the pies at him and not each other, driving the car into the elephants, squeezing the pipe for the tears instead of the flower water and vice versa- his stress levels were so high that he had had a heart attack when he was 38. 5 years later and up came the second. After much pressure from his wife and a lovely bunch of flowers with a heart wrenching letter from his daughter, he decided to give up training the clowns and instead find some other form of work. After a failed career in book binding he ran across the idea of the asassin trade. He was still very well known in the circus circles and he was soon getting requests from people who had been uncompromisingly picked on by clowns and wanted revenge as well as from elephants who had acquired permanent bruising due to the careless driving of the popular entertainers. This line of work particularly interested him and he advertised specifically as a Clown Asassin. His vast knowledge of the habits and mind of your average clown proved essential and he quickly became world renowned as THE clown asassin. But he once came across a clown that was no ordinary clown- a lithuanian named Stalin the Clown, most brutal of the Lithuanian State Circus clowns. He didn't work like any other clown, using Communist beliefs such as splitting the pies into five equal pieces each of which he threw at the other five clowns in the troop. Our asassin friend planned a simple shooting but because Stalin had five pieces of pie as opposed to the usual one, he was able to deflect the bullet with one piece and take out the asassin with the others.
Psychopathic Son of a Fishmonger Blues
Many many years ago,
When I was just a little nipper,
My daddy was a fishmonger-
Owned a shop called Jack the Kipper.
I often saw daddy with a cleaver,
Choppin' up his Beloved Fish.
It's quite ironic that twenty years later,
I'd be usin' that tool against his wish.
My Dad soon abandoned me and Mum
But I grew up and learnt about life.
He wouldn't pay for student costs,
Spent all his money ont he new wife.
So, one night, I plotted my revenge,
With the help of Mary, my girlfriend.
She was a girl who broke many hearts,
I hoped she'd also bring my father's end.
One cold and pretty vicious night,
With a cruelly, howling wind,
Our plans were made and all was set,
But before we departed, we sinned.
We consummated our love for each other,
Turned on by the dark acts ahead.
I felt so strong and handsome
At the thoguht of killing daddy dead.
We crept into Dad's great home
Without God on our side.
But we weren't silent enough,
When the lights came on, we couldn't hide.
It was her, the woman who stole my dad,
We pushed her down the stairs.
Quickly we chopped my father up
And went home to our separate lairs.
Well, without God behind us,
We encountered terrible luck.
Before dad's wife finally died,
She recalled the night in a book.
We thought we'd got away with it
And were stupidly carefree.
There was never a night without passion
But the cops caught us, eventually.
It took a week for the bodies to be found
And another until the discovery of the book.
As my mother read the detailed account
Her bleeding tears formed a brook. (Yes, that was poor, I know)
Well I was given fifty years,
Mary only got ten.
An accomplice is not half as evil
As the controlled puppet, then. (ooooo)
The Legend of Mike
[July has to be the strangest Frenchman I have met, stranger than a fire, stranger than smoke, stranger at first, colleague next, enemy third. He often had the authority to break into thirty gaoler's houses in order to discover the secret of the toad, the secret that has troubled many adventurers for the last three millenia. The sporadic authority he obtained was matched with a constant whine he produced, a D sharp or so I've been told, as I have never met him, well, more than ten times anyway (three more times than I saw Denis Denisest, rat smuggler for King Harold of Ives, the greediest king in all of Ives, not just the only one- Denis with his red nose and red cheeks and brown hair, knotted into the handshake of the Gynich covenant, smuggling rats across sewers far and wide in order to beat the censures who disliked his vulgar muttering {cker said eyed hit for cking brains, he can uck my ick, stpid ther cker} which, when raised above 34.2 decibals, could silence the firkins.....) and for those ten times he never once came up with an E flat, just a D sharp. Don't know why, many people had once expressed the need for a slight change in pitch but he was having none of it- except for one day, thirty three years ago when he did change pitch for half a second. No-one heard it because no-one was listening, so he chuckled. You see, D sharp is not the same as E flat, something to do with the cycle of fifths, don't ask me, I'm just an organic technician. But I have heard that when you play the two notes at the same time, and the moon is in Mars, then the devil of lower hell is summoned. If you have no need for him, his anger will grow and grow until his red face becomes green, thus transitioning into envy at which point he becomes jealous of God and starts becoming good, which pleases the residents of lower hell because they now realise that they can use the long chopsticks to feed each other and of course, even if the devil calms down, they will still know how to eat and so lower hell is always the well off suburb.Save Your Breath to Cool Your Porridge
Through the door, into
The dream of Maria
The girl of thirty days
The days of her life.
Meeting her in her room
Spending her gratuitously
She tells me her story
And I remember my own.
"Grandmother, she said, felt warm
Too warm for her to live
I didn't put her out
I didn't want to
So they locked me away
For a couple of years
Until I'd had enough
Until I was OK"
But she died and I moved on
And never saw Maria again
Which was a shame, I thought,
But that's life.
"In the end we seem
to drift and drift until
finally something happens and
we feel complete."
I Dream of Nothing
