| The Poetry of Spike Milligan |
| Manic Depression The pain is too much A thousand grim winters grow in my heqad. In my ears the sound of the coming dead. All seasons All sane All living All pain. No opiate to lock still my senses Only left, the body locked tenses. |
| Myxomatosis A baby rabbit With eyes full of pus Is the work of scientific us |
| The Children of Aberfan And now they will go wandering Away from coal black earth, The clean white children, holy as the Easter rose, Away from the empty sludge-filled desks, Away from the imprisoned spring that opened its mouth to breathe air and moved a black mountain to find it. So, Away they shall go-- the children, wandering-- wondering more loved more wanted than ever. I don't burn coal any more. |
| Values '67 Pass by citizen don't look left or right Keep those drip dry eyes straight ahead. A tree? Chop it down-- it's a danger to lightning! Pansies calling for water, Let 'em die-- queer bastards-- Seek comfort in the scarlet, labour saving plastic rose Fresh with the fragrance of Daz! Sunday! Pray citizen; Pray no rain will fall On your newly polished Four wheeled God. Envoi. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Get it out with Optrex. |
| Oberon The flowers in my garden grow down. Their colour is pain Their fragrance sorrow. Into my eyes grow their roots feeling for tears To nourish the black hopeless rose within me. |
| Values '68 The Prince is dying 'Give him air'. Headlines! Crisis! Kennedy Shot! The assassin captured Too late! Kennedy dies! THe telegrams flow And bury the body in-- Arlington. Somewhere in Meekong A prince of battle is blown into bloody meat. No headlines No crisis And only One telegram. |
| Love Song If I could write words Like leavews on an Autumn Forest floor What a bonfire my letters would make. If I could speak words of water You would drown when I said 'I love you'. |
| Opus III Your lustrious face made me aware my incompleteness In you, hidden, my sleeping other half. Help me-- Help me be complete. |
| Goliath They chop down 100ft trees To make chairs I bought one I am six foot one inch. When I sit in the chair I'm four foot two. Did they really chop down a 100ft tree To make me look shorter? |
| Hope Just when I had made my today Secure with safe yesterdays I see tomorrow coming with its pale glass star called hope. It shatters on impact And falls like splinters of cruel rain And I see the red oil of olife running from my wrists onto tomorrow's headlines. |
| Ulster, Derry 1972 When the only colour is black-- the only sound the broken bell Then talk to me about why. |