Monday, 24 November 2008


Last night, I prayed for rescue, for an answer to my pain
It wasn't fair, I told Him, all this trouble, all this strain
I cried I couldn't manage, I was weak and I was lost
I couldn't face the future and I couldn't meet the cost

I visualised a mighty hand that plucked me from the storm
And set me down upon a beach, where all was safe and warm
But then there boomed an awesome voice, I knew it came from Him:
"Get back into the water, son, you're learning how to swim!"

Will Hames, November 2008

Thursday, 6 November 2008

Busy Man

He clearly is no thinker
Barely educated, little sense of humour
No way with words, no fine artistic skills
And yet he has his busyness, doing what he can
He wastes no time in dwelling on his limitations
Too absorbed in getting on with all the life he has
And who am I to look down on him
When my own mind and heart are filled
With all the things I cannot do?

Will Hames, November 2008

Who Rules the World?

She has her wants, and some of them are needs
But who can tell where needs end
And the whims begin?
She is so vulnerable, fragility her strength
For who can stand against the needy and say “No”
When “No” is nothing but the truth?

I have my wants, and some of them are needs
But all I crave is harmony
And so I let myself be ruled
Because to take a stand for what I know is right
Will lead to battles I’ve no stomach for
A world is shaped around the strongest will
And in her weakness
She is Queen

How long can this go on? How long before the whimsy
Eats away the very bedrock of our lives?
Seen from outside, I am the ruler of this little state
I have the health, the strength, the wisdom drawn from time
Among real people, real objectives, triumphs and disasters
Unafraid to go out into the world
Whenever need or fancy call me through the door
So all the obligations fall to me
But all the power I could bring to bear
To carve our lives into a noble form
Lies uncollected at her feet.

Will Hames, Nov. 2008

Tuesday, 30 September 2008

Life on the Edge

I live on the edge, I’m a man through and through
A bit of a rebel, between me and you
I use naughty words when there’s no one to hear ‘em
I’ve never done drugs but I once went quite near ‘em
I stroll in MacDonald’s without even booking
Make signs at the wife when I know she’s not looking
I live on the edge, I’m a man through and through
And no one tells me what to do

I live on the edge, I’m a free-thinking guy
I look my optometrist straight in the eye
I revel in things that are simply not done
“Don’t Walk On The Grass”? I prefer to not run
I wear a thick vest though we’ve got central heating
I’ll pay for a meal then run off without eating
I live on the edge, I’m a man through and through
And no one tells me what to do

I live on the edge in a state of high tension
I happily fly in the face of convention
When out in my Volvo I find it amusing
To fill parking meters I’m not even using
I smile at policemen to make ‘em all crosser
And laugh when they call me a sad little tosser
I live on the edge, I’m a man through and through
And I don’t care who knows it…(between me and you!)

Will Hames

Monday, 29 September 2008

The Hippo

Don't ever bath with a hippo
He won't leave you room for a shrug
He'll keep all the bubbles up his end
While you get the end with the plug

To bath with a hippo's not clever
You need something more your own size
He'll panic and squash you whenever
He gets the shampoo in his eyes

An elephant's worse, I can tell you
The water all goes up his trunk
But don't ever bath with a hippo
And don't let him have the top bunk

Will Hames


I've done a jigsaw puzzle. It was mostly grass and sky
I've giggled through the window at the people passing by
I've counted up my marbles: all in all, I've forty three
I've chased the dog and teased the cat and had a cup of tea

I've washed my hands a dozen times with Mummy's special soap
I've tied my sister to a tree. I used her skipping rope
I've called my cousin for a chat. It looks as if he's out
I've tried to play the wat'ring can by blowing up the spout

I've slithered headfirst down the stairs and climbed the garden shed
I've tried to bash the boy next door, but he bashed me instead
I've written off to Santa Claus, although it's only June
I think I'll go insane if they don't fix the TV soon

Will Hames

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Fridge Poetry

A while ago, at the Poetry Cafe in Covent Garden, I picked up a little box of random words printed on fridge magnets. I thought my children might find them fun, and for about five minutes, they did. Five minutes was about the amount of time it took for them to establish that there were no swear words in the mix. I've just found the box stuffed under a small mountain of teddy bears and boldly aromatic socks in my son's bedroom. Nobody was watching, so I took the box down to the kitchen and started fiddling around, sorting out the nouns, adjectives and so on into different areas of our magnetic notice board.
This is what I came up with:

Somewhere in the mysterious forbidden forest
I found a cold newt potion
Yet there was no rainbow fire carpet
No giant lizard for a troll fang
Ask a small screaming hobbit to leap & dance
These owls of gold are bloody fierce
It must have flown beneath my dragon house

I think I'll leave this up on the board to remind me not to waste so much time. My children think I'm a mystic.

Being a carer

People often say to me, "You're such a noble person, giving up all your freedom and social life to look after your wife." I really don't know how to answer that. It wasn't something I volunteered for, it just crept up on me over a period of years. I used to have a pretty good job with an international trade union, well paid, challenging and varied. Gradually, it became clear that being on call around the clock at home didn't fit too well with holding down a full-time job. I think it was the third or fourth time I woke up with my head on the keyboard of my work computer that I realised something had to give; the job or the marriage. By that time, we had three children, so even if I hadn't continued to love my wife, it was a real no-brainer.
So here I am, going slowly out of my mind with boredom in these four walls and wondering why a person so glaringly unfitted to the role of home maker gets landed with the job.
It's not rocket science, of course. Any fool could do it and a lot of people with room-temperature IQs do it very successfully. What defeats me is the motivation. After all this time, I still have the feeling that I'm just holding the fort until somebody capable comes along and licks this place into shape.
If it weren't for the fact that I can escape into writing and, all too occasionally, performing my silly poetry at various gigs in and around London, I think I'd go crazy for real. As it is, all my latent insanity is channelled onto the page, where it sits and smirks at me.
My pager's just bleeped. I have to go and see what my patient needs. One bleep means, "When you can," two mean "Come now" and more than two mean "Help, I'm on fire!" So far, just one bleep has sounded. Oh no, there goes another one. Can I use foul language on a blog?

Thursday, 25 September 2008

I'm new to blogging, so I hope this works.
Here's one of my silly poems for starters.

I Could

I could eat an elephant on toast, for just a snack
I could climb an oak tree with both hands behind my back
I could whistle "Dixie" while I drink a glass of milk
I could comb a coconut until it's smooth as silk

I could spell "chrysanthemum" without a calculator
I could build a house with two short planks and a potater
I could do most anything, and I could show you how
I could tell the truth, but I'm not in the mood right now

Will Hames