The Poetry of Brian Langley

 

 

As we grow older, our memory sometimes starts to become unreliable, We know that we know certain people, but just who are they?

 

 

The Bloke I Used to Know

 

There’s a bloke I used to know

And I met him years ago

Though I really can’t remember where we met

And I don’t recall his name

But I knew him, just the same

He was the sort of bloke you don’t forget

 

He had long black curly hair

Or perhaps ‘twas short and fair

And I don’t remember how he earned a crust

But I somehow seem to think

That he used to like a drink

Cos he said his throat was dry as desert dust

 

He was tall and long and lean

He was savage, he was mean

But maybe, that was someone else again

He could tell a dirty joke

He was just that kind of bloke

And I seem to think he said he came from Spain

 

Or it could have been from France

I recall that he could dance

The foxtrot and the coronation waltz

I remember him so clear

When we’d sit and have a beer

He couldn’t stand cos one leg, it was false

 

Or it might have been his arm

I remember he could charm

The pants off any sheila in the place

But, then agen, perhaps

It was him who’d pick up chaps

The sort that wears some lipstick on their face

 

Ah! The memories, they flow

Of that bloke I used to know

And just like I was sayin’ to me wife

As your days go speeding by

And the years, they seem to fly

There are some blokes you remember all your life

 

©  Brian Langley   27 Jan 2006

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