Screenshot

Meadowhead Bard

Random and surreal poetry satire and short stories.

  • One two many calls.

    One may presume, that setting fire to my arm doesn’t come under the heading “Self care” However accidents do happen. I must admit up to me having cancer several years ago I wasn’t a model human being, by my reckoning as I am at the moment anyway. Cancer was a wake up call, whoever made… Read more

  • Rant and socks

    Most of my time is wasted in trying to convince people that we are ruining civilisation with our own stupidity and greed. I try not to use this blog to that end, but I was asked the question, and that’s my answer. STOP PRESS! The Stupid boy. The stupid boy was now eighteen, it had… Read more

  • Dylan and the Brontosaurus Burger

    My favourite food when I was a kid was brontosaurus burgers, you can’t get them now of course brontosaurus are extinct, as I will be soon. I remember also someone saying “Try Ceratops” but I didn’t like it. Talking of food, I have been compiling a list of food Bob Dylan my like. It has… Read more

  • The Sock

    My favourite hysterical figure, would be Mike Spilligan, that famous typing error. His genius was in his madness, and his madness was in his genius. So follows one of mine in the style of said genius. There is a sequel I will publish soon. The Sock I usually take my socks off, to stop that… Read more

  • The Crush.

    Crush Do I remember my first crush? The smell of her armpits, that gentle push. That lady next to me so wet with rain, My first time, on a London tube train. Read more

  • The Grand dog

    The Grand Dog. Most people have grand kids, those bundles of joy, But we don’t want one a girl or a boy! We had our two boys, and that was enough, So what do we get now? A big ball of fluff! He comes to our house this hairy tornado with attitude, We try and… Read more

  • Cannon Fodder.

    Retirement. If you’ve always paid up your taxes, With no omissions or laxness, Now that you have retired, As to what you aspired, The governments taken its axes. Meadowhead Bard.       Read more

  • My little bod

    I’ve had it nearly seventy one years, It doesn’t have cogs levers or gears. Often overworked, misused and abused but still never burned out or fused. On each side there’s an arm, At the top two eyes full of charm. At the bottom two feet, still quite fleet The roofs lost its thatch, the hands… Read more

  • The Yahoo

    How do you like your protest songs or poems? Serious, or satirical? I’m not very good at writing serious stuff like Dylan writes, but sometimes a bit of satire, can make a point, and it can stick in the mind like a comedians punch line, or an ear worm. So let me know what you… Read more

  • My hero

    Oh how admire the young woman, I write of in my little tribute. A song from Bob Dylan’s Infidels, could quite easily have been about her. The song I refer to, is of course Licence to Kill, follows a brief extract. “Well he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool, and when he sees… Read more