A Day In The Life

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Beatles:Oh Darlin

The Beatles are the best band ever from Liverpool, England

John Lennon poems in his own words
 
Good Dog Nigel

Arf, Arf, he goes, a merry sight
Our little hairy friend
Arf, Arf, upon the lampost bright
Arfing round the bend.
Nice dog! Goo boy,
Waggie tail and beg,
Clever Nigel, jump for joy
Because we are putting you to sleep at three of the clock, Nigel.



Sad Michael

"There was no reason for Michael to be sad that morning, (the little wretch): everyone liked him, (the scab). He'd had a hard day's night that day, for Michael was a Cocky Watchtower. His wife Bernie, who was well controlled, had wrabbed his norman lunch but he was still sad. It was strange for a man who have everything and a wife to boot. At 4 o'clock whne his fire was burking bridelly a Poleaseman had clubbed in to parse the time around. 'Goddeven Michael,' the Poleaseman speeg, but Michael did not answer for he was debb and duff and could not speeg . . ."



No Flies On Frank

There were no flies on Frank that morning - after all why not? He was a responsible citizen with a wife and child, wasn't he? It was a typical Frank morning and with an agility that defies description he leapt into the bathroom onto the scales. To his great harold he discovered he was twelve inches more tall heavy! He couldn't believe it and his blood raised to his head, causing a mighty red colouring.
'I carn't not believe this incredible fact of truth about my very body which has not gained fat since mother begat me at childburn. Yea, though I wart through the valet of thy shadowy hut I will feed no norman. What grate qualmsy hath taken me thus into such a fatty hardbuckle.'
Again Frank looked down at the awful vision which clouded his eyes with fearful weight. 'Twelve inches more heavy, Lo!, but am I not more fatty than my brother Geoffery whise father Alec came from Kenneth -- through Leslies, who begat Arthur, son of Eric, by the house of Ronald and April -- keepers of James of Newcastle who ran Madeline at 2-1 by Silver Flower, (10-2) past Wot-ro-Wot at 4/3d a pound?'
He journeyed downstairs crestfallen and defective -- a great wait on his boulders -- not even his wife's battered face could raise a smile on poor Frank's head -- who as you know had no flies on him. His wife, a former beauty queer, regarded him with a strange but burly look.
'What ails thee, Frank? she asked stretching her prune. 'You look dejected if not informal,' she addled.
"Tis nothing but wart I have gained but twelve inches more tall heavy than at the very clock of yesterday at this time -- am I not the most miserable of men? Suffer ye not to spake to me or I might thrust you a mortal injury; I must traddle this trial alone.'
'Lo! Frank -- thous hast smote me harshly with such grave talk -- am I to blame for this vast burton?'
Frank looked sadly at his wife -- forgetting for a moment the cause of his misery. Walking slowly but slowly toward her, he took his head in his hands and with a few swift blows gad clubbed her mercifully to the ground dead.
'She shouldn't see me like this,' he mubbled, 'not all fat and on her thirtysecond birthday.'
Frank had to het his own breakfast that morning and also on the following mornings.
Two, (or was it three?) weeks later Frank awake again to find that there were still no flies on him.
'No flies on this Frank boy,' he thought; but to his amazement there seemed to be a lot of flies on his wife -- who was still lying about the kitchen floor.
'I carn't not partake of bread and that with her lying about the place,' he thought allowed, writing as he spoke. 'I must deliver her to her home whore she will be made welcome.'
He gathered her in a small sack (for she was only four foot three) and headed for her rightful home. Frank knocked on the door of his wife's mothers house. She opened the door.
'I've brought Marian home, Mrs. Sutherskill' (he could never call her Mum). He opened the sack and placed Marian on the doorstep.
'I'm not having all those flies in my home,' shouted Mrs. Sutherskill (who was very houseproud), shutting the door. 'She could have at least offered me a cup of tea,' thought Frank lifting the problem back on his boulders.


The Moldy Moldy Man

I'm a moldy moldy man
I'm moldy thru and thru
I'm a moldy moldy man
You would not think it true
I'm moldy til my eyeballs
I'm moldy til my toe
I will not dance I shyballs
I'm such a humble Joe.



A Surprise for Little Bobby

It was little Bobby's birthmark today and he got a surprise. His very fist was lopped off, (The War) and he got a birthday hook!
All his life Bobby had wanted his very own hook; and now on his 39th birthday his pwayers had been answered. The only trouble was they had send him a left hook and ebry dobby knows that it was Bobby's right fist that was missing as it were.
What to do was not thee only problem: Anyway he jopped off his lest hand and it fitted like a glove. Maybe next year he will get a right hook, who knows?



Nicely Nicely Clive

To Clive Barrow it was just an ordinary day nothing unusual or strange about it, everything quite navel, nothing outstandley, just another day but to Roger it was something special, a day amongst days ... a red lettuce day ... because Roger was getting married and as he dressed that morning he thought about the gay batchelor soups he'd had with all his pals. And Clive said nothing. To Roger everything was different, wasn't this the day his Mother had told his about, in his best suit and all that, grimming and shakeing hands, people tying boots and ricebudda on his car.
To have and to harm ... til death duty part ... he knew it all off by hertz. Clive Barrow seemed oblivious. Roger could visualize Anne in her flowing weddy drag, being wheeled up the aisle, smiling a blessing. He had butterfiels in his stomarce as he fastened his bough tie and brushed his hairs. 'I hope I'm doing the right thing' he thought looking in the mirror, 'Am I good enough for her?' Roger need not have worried because he was 'Should I have flowers all round the spokes?' said Anne polishing her foot rest. 'Or should I keep it syble?' she continued looking down on her grain haired Mother.
'Does it really matter?' repaid her Mother wearily wiping her sign. 'He won't be looking at your spokes anyway.' Anne smiled the smile of someone who's seen a few laughs.
Then luckily Anne's father came home from sea and cancelled the husband.



I Sat Belonely

I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.

I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wonderous voice.
Puzzly, puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but I have no choice.

'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.

Such sofly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.

Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might

'I thought you were a lady',
I giggle, - well I may,
To my surprise the lady,
got up - and flew away.

  John Lennon's Death
    LENNON DIES DECEMBER 8, 1980


As taken from the New York Times

John Lennon, who was widely regarded as the most thoughtful and outspoken of the four Beatles during their peak of popularity during the 1960's, dropped out of the music business, to devote his attention to his newly-born son, Sean, and to his wife, Yoko Ono. Then in November 1980, he reentered the pop mainstream with the introduction of a new album, "Double Fantasy," which, Lennon said at the time, was an extension of his family life, as the songs were direct celebrations of enduring love and the pleasures of home and hearth.

On December 8, 1980 at around 5 p.m., John and Yoko left their apartment in the historic Dakota on Central Park West in New York City to go to their recording studio to supervise the transfer of some of the "Double Fantasy" album numbers to singles. David Geffen, their record producer and friend, said that more than 700,000 copies of the album had already been sold up to that time.

As they were leaving the Dakota, they were approached by several people who were seeking autographs. Among them was a man who would be later identified as Mark David Chapman. John Lennon scribbled an autograph on the cover of "Double Fantasy" for Chapman.

The Lennons spent several hours at the studio on West 44th Street, returning to the Dakota at about 10:50 p.m. They exited their limousine on the 72nd Street curb even though a car could have driven through the entrance and into the courtyard.

Three witnesses--a doorman at the entrance, an elevator operator and a cab driver who had just dropped off a passenger--saw Mark David Chapman standing in the shadows just inside the arch.

As the Lennons walked by, Chapman called, "Mr. Lennon." Then he dropped into "a combat stance" and fired four pistol shots. According to the autopsy, two shots struck John Lennon in the left side of his back and two in his left shoulder. All four caused internal damage and bleeding.

According to police, Lennon staggered up six steps to the room at the end of the entrance used by the concierge, said, "I'm shot," then fell down.

The first policemen at the scene were Officers Steve Spire and Peter Cullen, who were in the patrol car at 72nd Street and Broadway when they heard a report of shots fired at the Dakota. The officers found Chapman standing "very calmly" where he had been.

The police said he had dropped the revolver after firing it, and said Chapman had a paperback book, J.D. Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye," and a cassette recorder with 14 hours of Beatles tapes.

The second police team at the Dakota, Officers Bill Gamble and James Moran, took Lennon to Roosevelt Hospital. Officer Moran said they stretched Lennon out on the back seat and that the singer was "moaning." He said he asked, "Are you John Lennon?" and that Lennon had moaned, "Yeah."

Dr. Stephen Lyman of Roosevelt Hospital said Lennon was dead when the policemen arrived with him. He was pronounced dead at 11:15 p.m. Dr. Elliott M. Gross, the Chief Medical Examiner, said after the autopsy that Lennon had died of shock and loss of blood and that no one could have lived more than a few minutes with such injuries.

Yoko Ono, crying "Tell me it's not true," was taken to Roosevelt Hospital and led away in shock after she learned her husband was dead. David Geffen later issued a statement in her behalf: "John loved and prayed for the human race. Please do the same for him."

Within minutes of the first broadcasts of the news of the shooting, people began to gather at Roosevelt Hospital and in front of the Dakota, reciting prayers, singing Lennon's songs and burning candles.

On December 14, all around the world, people paused to stand alone or come together in silence, heeding a plea from Yoko Ono that they take 10 minutes to remember the former Beatle.