Old Man's Legacy

OLD MAN’S LEGACY

My son went far when he grew so tall, the youths they sit on my old garden wall.

The bricks they push till they fall on the floor.

They drink swear roll and bang on my door, cans in my garden, packets and more.

The girls they scream, the boys all roar, the gate goes clank, clank and scrapes on the floor.

I don’t go out there’s abuse and more, I’ve been jostled, mocked more bangs on my door.

The windows cracked a heavy stone, it happened late by a hooded clone.

They’re all look the same in black tracksuit hood’s, they smash the cars and steal all the goods.

The local “fence” he smiles with glee he’s happy with his legacy.

The T.V. shows of which I’m fond, the bangs and screams drown out the sound.

Aggressive parents just the same, absent dads are part to blame.

Piss off old man it’s not my kids if round you go when you’ve had enough.

So you pick up the phone and call the cops, they say they’ll step up area patrols.

They don’t want paperwork or unsolved crimes, there’s better work these are tough times.

It’s two a.m. the youth’s gone to bed; a nice soft pillow surrounds my old head.

I look at the photo of my lovely wife the stress of it all took her frail life.

The neighbours I loved have gone to the grave, families moved in they never will work.

Up till late they drink their free beer, the music is loud they think it’s New Year every day all swilling the beer.

The kids run amok staying up late, no homework done get to school late.

They smash down the fences that we had to build, the flowers we planted the lawns that we trimmed.

Hey there’s some good news my bungalows ready, sheltered housing away from the melee.

I move in next week a secure guarded fence; I worked all my life to pay the cheap rent.

I went with the girl from the social service a brand new bed and laundry service.

Kind open faces heaps of respect; I even get help when I go to the shops.

I watch all my shows and go to bed early, up in the morning to buy my paper.

My son came to see me his family looked fine, they offered a room in a big house that’s mine.

After thinking it over I’d get in their way let them have their life unselfish you see.

They look very happy and relieved when I said, I think I’ll stay here I love my new bed.

My old house was taken by a new family the same as the others they seem to fit in.

That old street is dangerous there’s no sympathy; the dogs are all barking each has two or three.

They fight with each other there’s no one to blame, the local gangster’s are feeling no pain.

The fast cars and money makes them feel good, is that all they have for spilling the blood of countless poor children who live in the “hood”.

A mess that needs sorting, it’s not up to me; I brought up my family they’re good you see.

The doctor is with me I’m passing away, my children around me it’s better to say; I left you all with a fine legacy.

I’m going somewhere I can’t really see, there are blue lights and gardens and beautiful sea.

I hug Auntie’s Uncle’s my old Mum and Dad there’s clean cars and buses the nicest I’ve had.

My garden is peaceful with flowers galore no screaming hoodie’s are banging my door.

I’ll be here forever I feel this for sure.

By

Kevin Humphreys

November 6^th 2010.

Addict

Addict

I’m thin don’t look like my photos

of me with my family at Christmas.

The pan on the stove is all mouldy,

My bed sheets are filthy and golden.

The bath is dusty and dirty,

with old rusty needles and the tea leaves.

The mirror is cracked in the middle,

from a head butt when there was some trouble.

The dealer will just have no mercy,

if I tell him I can’t pay his money.

His heavies will punch, stab and kick me.

They waft away in a limo, and

flash clothes, with houses to match them.

The twitching curtains all see them,

They think its respect but they hate them

for what they have done to their children.

I’m really not much of a burglar,

I’m noisy and clumsy not stealthy.

I have to do it to pay for,

 the stuff that I pump up inside me.

The pride that I had has been trodden,

into the dust with each bagful.

My clothes are all ragged and smelly

you kids take note and look at me.

Just listen to mum and stay drug free.

I’ve sold everything that I worked for.

I robbed everything off those that I cared for.

Chances galore that they gave me,

They hoped that the last one might save me, from

 a cold death on some city pavement.

It’s not that I’m sneaky, ungrateful,

I can’t get away from this circle,

of crime, buying junk by the bagful.

Will somebody help me I’m desperate?

Kevin Humphreys.

15.09.2010

Mr Valentine

Mr Valentine

He was a real romantic

Sent out his cards by the truckload

He got one reply from a lady

She said I am ready and able

I want a posh meal at a table

A house and horse with a stable

A bank account new house in Chelsea

He thought as he counted his coppers

A burger and orange for starters

For a horse a ride on a donkey

On a beach not too far from Brighton

A couple of quid and a guest house

The Lady said I'm not bothered

With burgers and sand in my slippers

Fried eggs with kippers for breakfast

It's just the card that you sent me

You left the twenty pence price on

I'm worth more than that you old skinflint

Kevin Humphreys

14th February 2011

Airbrix

Airbrix

At the Airbrix factory in Woomsworth an email is read. "Bleeding hell boys this isn't the average customer," they all agree in the Customer Care Department, just then the door bursts open a massive creature like King Kong blocks the doorway, with a rocket in his hand. Packers drop kit mouldings everywhere, there is a fateful air, the relaxed joviality ceases, the managing director Phil Smith warned what would become of pissing Airbrix customers off, he told dark tales of a similar encounter in 1950 with a father of a disappointed  son making the Woollington bomber. He was dismissed as a boring old fart by the rest of the young modern directors when he disagreed after they advised making redundant, Larry Corby, a man with fifty years experience, who actually assembled the models and reported snags.

 They  introduced a feared  and dreaded Customer Care team. Straight from University with degrees in bollocks, they came up with statements like " Traceability Code, production number," and of course help lines manned by incoherent figures, and all on a premium rate number at £3.00 per minute. Back to the factory the huge dark figure grabbed a pretty blonde from packing, who calmed him somewhat doing hand stands and strange dances. The huge figure roared and decided to keep her, she sympathised with him, smiled, giggled, and said. "See if little Amy can help you pissed off Dark Figure"(holding the instructions upside down) she comes up with, "there it is, the production number, I set it up myself. Oh maybe not that's a part number." He doesn't kill her as he likes her a bit more than The Customer Care Team, who meanwhile try to trace which one of the annoying little faceless Pooch drivers caused this latest incident. 

This team seemed to pride themselves on who could annoy the customers the most. Mark was brought to the front, and they shouted at the hip smart arse, "give him to Dark Figure!" They all mocked Mark in unison. Mark screamed on the floor, but it was no use, Dark Figure had dropped Amy and made his way to the Customer Care Team section. 

"Where is he?" He boomed, they pushed Mark to the front, then hid behind desks everywhere. Dark Figures face was inches away from Marks, who had the rocket instructions laid out on a spare desk. Mark couldn't make head nor tail of it. Dark Figure said in a low tone, "Traceability Code!" Try as he might, Mark  couldn't find it anywhere, his hands shook as Dark Figure shouted. "Come on, come on, where is it?" Just then Amy came in and calmed Dark Figure.

 He walked out with Amy and they became close and married, they had two fine children, a girl and boy. Mark is still looking for the code to this very day. Dark Figures little boy is throwing Airbrix kits at the wall in frustration, his sister tries to calm him. Dark Figure just pats him and says. "That's my boy!"  

Meanwhile at Airbrix The customer care line is busy in Boogladish, the call centre is well briefed with phrases like Traceability Code, and a new one. "Product ref slip 0002756444330zy." This can't be found either so the bill meter ticks on while new "Dark Figures" emerge everywhere. A bad cauldron of discontent is brewing worldwide, maps are consulted and the Dark Figures converge on the Airbrix factory in Woomsworth.........

Kevin Humphreys

November 2012  

Eating insects on TV

It bugs me the way they eat insects for so called entertainment. I know you can eat them if you are hungry, lets face it TV stars are not exactly in need of insect nourishment. Ripping the heads off them then spitting the heads out. I feel sorry for the little guys, life ended, bang! I just didn't join in the laugh about it.....    

Apollo 16 Man

Shaking hands with Charlie Duke of Apollo 16 the 10th Moon walking Astronaut, on Saturday 20th October 2012 at Pontefract Yorkshire. A very nice picturesque area with friendly, helpful locals. An interesting speech followed the picture taking session. It could be the last chance I get to see one of the Apollo programme Astronauts. Charlie was a Lunar Module Pilot and completed a lot of long geology sessions on the Moon surface and  drives in the Moon vehicle. The sessions of sample collecting reached  72 hours in total, $1 million a minute.  He spoke in complete honesty, with an air of humbleness. All this was a surprise from my brother for my 60th birthday, a wonderful thought. I couldn't wait in the queue to have my photograph signed by Charlie as we had to catch the train back home. The weather was perfect and our train connections went without a hitch. The Moon landings were a big part in my life history, and were an amazing technological and human achievement. If you ever get the chance go and see one of our great modern explorers, I would recommend it.       

Goodbye 50s.......

Goodbye to you 50s,
I saw out the fifty year decade today, it's 1.00 am Sunday. Stuffed with medicine, what a bad virus this is. How I loved my presents, my little granddaughter opened all my cards and packets, she just loves the excitement. What more could I want from my 60th Birthday? I am surrounded by the people I love, unforgettable really, no party or stuff like that. My  bus pass arrived yesterday, no fumbling for change, no worries about prices of tickets. I never had a party on my 50th Birthday either as my mother died that very day. It wasn't important then after the shock. Anyway on with the 60s........