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Songs & Poetry
Charlie has been scribbling poetry since the age of five. A collection of his comic verse title Cautionary Tales and Ruthless Rhymes for Modern Parents is due out this Autumn published by Constable and Robinson. Aside from his commercial ventures he spends time writing more serious poems and composing songs, which he sings with his band The Barred. In 1998 he set up the acclaimed Hampshire Poets Society (as seen on TV) which has played host to well known bards including Elizabeth Bewick and Jeremy Hooker. Charlie also supplies lyrics on demand and to match written music. If you've got the tune but still need the right words then give us a call. If you don't use it, you don't need to pay. Here are a few examples.mples below.

I'll Always Be Here

Curling your leaves to the heat of the flame
You lie like an empress and whisper my name
Holding me down where the darkness is thin
Where the old world still breathes, and the new songs begin

From your castle you weep for the soul of a man
But your eyes tell no stories the spring has run dry
So you barter what's left and you get what you can
'Cause it's here, now or nothing, and never ask why!

The morning will steal you, no thirst can assuage
So you tell me your free as you peer through the cage
You cling to your hunger, hold tight to your fear
But you don't have to worry, I'll always be here

From your castle you weep for the soul of a man
But your eyes tell no stories the spring has run dry
So you barter what's left and you get what you can
'Cause it's here, now or nothing, and never ask why!

By twilight I glimpsed you, in shadows that play
On the walls of this prison where we came to pray
Now your smile is an echo, that still seems so near
And you don't have to worry, I'll always be here

From your castle you weep for the soul of a man
But your eyes tell no stories the spring has run dry
So you barter what's left and you get what you can
'Cause it's here, now or nothing, and never ask why!

The Siren

You lower your eyes and you recross your knees
You're a tentative temptress determined to please
You change your opinions to suit every mood
Sometimes you're supplicant, other times rude
But each word that slips from those sugarplum lips
Is designed to enchant and beguile and eclipse
So I'll give you my thanks But you'll have to fill in the blanks
Yeah I'll, give you my thanks And leave you to fill in the blanks

Well I've had my ration Of unbridled passion
I've seen my fair share of romance
But I didn't reckon The devil would beckon
With so much desire in one glance

So I'll give you my thanks But you'll have to fill in the blanks
Yeah I'll, give you my thanks And leave you to fill in the blanks

Little girl, playing games yeah
Bathing, in a stream of names yeah
You pull the strings that make men's faces smile and weep
You tear their worlds apart and drive your arrows deep
You push them on the stage and snatch the script away
You read the opening page and scorning disregard the play

So I'll give you my thanks But you'll have to fill in the blanks
Yeah I'll, give you my thanks And leave you to fill in the blanks
So I'll give you my thanks But you'll have to fill in the blanks
Yeah I'll, give you my thanks And leave you to fill in the blanks...

Too much blood is spilt
In the name of guilt
These towers that I've built
Have sunk beneath the silt
I've seen the smile on painted lips
I've held you in my fingertips
But now you play a different song
And me, I'm moving on

Three score years and ten
Might be enough for weary men
But tough as life will always be
I'll meet its changing melody
And raise my cup again
And raise my cup again

I've been told you're doing well
They tell me too but I can't tell
My life's just a padded cell
I struggle but what the hell
I understand what they expect
They hold the mirror I reflect
My mojo and my second sight
I rage against the dying light

Three score years and ten
Might be enough for weary men
But tough as life will always be
I'll meet its changing melody
And raise my cup again

You fit as perfectly as your faded jeans
Say the right things, to the right folks
Read the right magazines
Second hand opinions
confound The jumble of your mind
You're generous of spirit
But are you kind, are you kind?

You always play concerned
for those suffering out there
But tell me truly have you got
A single dime to spare
Or even time, is it a crime
To make believe you care?
I know you want to change the world but
Do you dare, do you dare?

You fit as perfectly as your faded jeans
Say the right things, to the right folks
Read the right magazines
Second hand opinions confound
The jumble of your mind
You're generous of spirit
But are you kind, are you kind?

Everybody loves you
You're the name on every list
But do you wonder when you're gone
If you are really missed
King of the small talk
You're a million dollar sham
And all of us salute you
The counterfeit man
And all of us salute you
The counterfeit man

I've glimpsed the timelessness of being
As lives flicker past like frames of
An old film reel - ebbing and flowing
In an instant - dried up and spat out
And held and lost and loved
In the falling of a raindrop
Or the crackle of a dying fire
We only live to burn
And all of us will soon be ash
Our mortal labours dull clay
Save for those we ignite around us.
Fan the flames, spread your light x 2
Make it work out right

Stooped low over the microphone
Reaching for the high notes
The original clone
Murmuring old cliches
In a sandpaper voice
But still they come
To see the legend play
To the beat of a drum
The marching tunes of yesterday

You seem to be begging them please
As you shake arthritic knees
On the verge of apoplexy
Still trying to be sexy
The fire is an ember
You strain to remember
The warmth of the Spring
In the chill of December

When you were rabble rousers
In leather trousers
And so you pop another upper
And sing for your supper
The money's run out
The taxman's at the door
So you do another tour
With a few new songs
Blood from a stone
Now the garden's overgrown
And the flowers choke
And the colours fade
And you're just another joke
Who they said had got it made

Nature was cruel
To the toad
On my lawn today
It clawed its leathery carcass
Across ten feet of mossy
No-man's land
The delicate splint of its
Chewed hind-leg gleamed
Like the lilies on the pond
White as the tiny hives
Of maggots burrowed
Deep in the mottled soil
Of it's back
One good eye blinked
As I picked it up,
Too tired for fear
It's slippery strugglings
Vain against the
Warm pink of my palm
Lifting it beyond
Towering walls of lavender
Dropping it in cool dank water
Where it sank to stagnant shade
In tiny swirls of mud

I've shunned the depths of your pale eyes
For fear of what lies there
Not the horror you have witnessed
Nor the pain you've held
Which shapes your beauty clear
As the cradle of an hourglass
But that I might see through
And in and back and find
That I am barely here
Or that the years have forged
A mirror to reflect
The waxing, waning smiles
Of those like me who'd
Throw their stones
And brave the cuts and shards
To share your emptiness

He works the room like a dancer
Stepping lightly into conversation
Injecting idle talk with innuendo
Paying compliment with counterfeit smile
And bright laughter crisp as a winter's day
He shuffles prospects like a croupier

Patient as a wolf he waits
Priapic grin invades the evening
Bruising confidence and comfort
Then he sights his target,
Sniffs the air, Coco Chanel,
He glides across

"Hello, I don't mean to intrude
I hope you will not think me rude
But I know no-one in this throng
And this really is my favourite song
Would you, by any outside chance,
Care to join me for a dance?"

The morning after he awakes
Next to her slender form, his body aches
The bed is warm, his head, a slab of stone
Filled with one thought, to be alone
He wakes her with a loving touch
He fakes a smile that meant so much,
the night before.

Soaking in a hot bath, the water
Sucks at his skin, the door is locked
But he can hear her ruffling pillows
Straightening sheets and washing the glasses
How he despises her, but it passes
And he shouts "Don't bother, please, I'll clean up later."

Breakfast is a dull affair,
finding nowhere to stare.
He peers into his cup of tea.
And so does she.

He says, in measured tones
"I must be on my way.
It's been great but I'm late
And cannot stall. I'll call."

Five minutes after she is halfway down the street
Retracing her steps from the evening before
The sun on the pavement is sickly and sweet
And she's left with a feeling that's hard to ignore
Meanwhile he bolts the door, and returns to his slumber
As it dawns on her, he never even took her number

He sucks molasses thick mouthfuls of silver smoke
Fluted through sticky forests
Of black bronchial bushes
Creosote coated, un-choking
Clears his coalscuttle throat
Scrapes a tight-lipped Cisco kid smile
Discoloured teeth clench wet
Concertina'd stick of weed
Loose-tongued stool of ash feathering
Beneath the dying glow

Grubby yellow fingers stubbing
Screwing out a lost idea
Disposable bravado
Suddenly offensive
Like a broken resolution
But his mind's moved on
Already creeping to the half full
Bold gold embossed packet
He just tossed down
In marked disdain
He looks up, catching her eye
Face shield less, Sword less, Wordless,
The air too clear for comfort
Thin with silence
So in scarcely veiled discomfort
Reaches for another fag