top of page

Here Comes Charlie

With his big moustache and baldy heid

His big long nails he’s a sight indeed

He disnae teach Shakespeare, but the modern ones

Miller, Salinger and other sons of a gun

He introduced me to many authors

All men I’m afraid, nobody’s daughter

He was a wonderful teacher, who knew his stuff

And when I dogged school, he called my bluff

Whit the hell is this, my father shouted

Charlie’s letter, I’d been outed

Next day in school, he didn’t crack a light

Cos that was his way, hoping I just might

Pursue my studies with gusto and vigour

Come to his classes, and deliver

The top notch stories he wanted from me

And not stay at home, just drinking coffee

I heard he got married for a second time

From what I heard it suited him fine

But sadly this happiness was taken from him

When his heart stopped beating RIP Charlie Jackson

Charlie was a fabulous teacher, loved by all the students he taught. I never did apply myself as much I could’ve. But now at sixty, I am making up for lost time. And that passion he gave me for literature has never left me. If I ever get published, he will get a mention.


15 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All

Passing acquaintances

They moved in ten years ago, seems like yesterday. Two children later, one dog less, they’re moving on to pastures new. Urban living doesn’t meet the need to park three cars together. We should know,

The kindness of strangers

The here and now is what really matters, I hear you say. Live for the moment, soak it all up.I mean, you might die tomorrow, never wake up You strut as you walk, not paying heed to the man begging for

Melancholy blues

That heavy head feeling you get, compounded by the despair and gloominess that crept in. Silent, invisible, yet palpable Post-bacterial blues, long after the sore throat has gone away. It just sort of

1 comentario


graham.gordon31
graham.gordon31
13 nov 2020

Nice post on a very good teacher -- although he could not get me to like English :-)

Me gusta
Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page