Poem update. | Print |

I'm hoping work will calm down soon... However I'm still going with the poems - I think my favourite of this lot is the one about drinking whisky. I've really been enjoying writing serious poems lately. Not like me at all - I know! Sometime this month I've got to write a thing for Dean Burnett's science gig (which should be a lot of fun) and I've got a Burlesque gig in Cardiff on 28th Feb - fun fun fun.

#61 - The cat
The cat doesn't like the cold.
He's getting a little bit old
And still never does as he's told
But he does like to go out and fight
Even though his joints, are not quite right.

#62 - Dinosaur
I once found a dinosaur
In my kitchen sink
Despite the expert's point of view
The dinosaur was pink.

#63 - Baby Brain
She's spilt coffee on the breakfast.
She's got baby brain.
She's forgotten what she's saying.
She's got baby brain.
I can't think of any more lines for the poem...
I've got baby brain.

#64 - Legal High
They made all illegal drugs legal.
Oh what taxable joy.
They didn't foresee,
The effect it would have
Upon Master Chef.
The winner,
With his cocaine coconut surprise
And his heroin baked haddock,
Had the judges begging for more.

#65 - Rover the Wonder Cat
Blink and you miss it
Pink and dismissive
Over the underpass
Rover the wonder cat
Named by a football fan
Tamed but he still could kill
Out for a fight tonight
Lout with a bite to take
Swearing as he trots by
Wearing his football shirt
Pink and white away kit
Blink and you'll take a hit.

#66 - Whisky
Whisky
Evaporating slowly on my tongue.
Fills my mouth with incandescent joy.
I feel.
I feel. Mellow and forlorn.
Slowly swallow
Smoky breathe breathes still night air.
I hold it.
And it holds me.
I watch it dance about the tumbler.
Feel it slide upon my palate.
A deep inhalation then.
Struck with bitter joy.
Labour's end and leisure's toy.
A night off.
A night well spent.

#67 - Beard Decision
I think I might shave off my beard.
It's not that I think it looks weird
But I miss my wife's normal affection
As our marriage moves in a more formal direction.

I think that the beard might go.
I do think that it does look good though.
Perhaps it might stay for a while
I'll force her to cuddle with my scratchy smile. 

Yes, for now the beard will stay
I can't believe I started to sway
I must behave with more bearded conviction.
Perhaps hide the razor somewhere in the kitchen.

#68 - Moment
A moment of weakness
Brief but disastrous
Leaving consequences in its wake.

A moment of reflection
Steeped in horror
For that which now will come.

A moment of anticipation
Inevitable and remorseful
Like the vole your cat brings in.

A moment of mystery
When foreseen times
Come not to pass.

A moment of joy
When you are
Mistaken.

#69 - Give up
Sometimes I think that I should give in
Give up
And who would regret
My absence?

Would I be missed?

I insist
I try my hardest
To be the best that I can be
Perhaps it's not enough

Perhaps

Perhaps I'm not liked
I'll keep going
But this is the closest I've been
To giving in. 

#70 - A Star
Because of the nature of things
Recycling on a subatomic level
Conservation of energy in all its forms
Although they seem so far
One day
An age distant
You may well become a star*

*Well, an infinitesimally small part of you might become an insignificantly tiny part of a star.

#71 - Scrabble
From the tinkling tiles 
From the first letter drawn
From the first word lain
To the last word played.
I love Scrabble.

From a seven letter word
From a good use of doubles
From an X on a triple
To the grumbles at Q. I.
I love Scrabble.

From consulting "the book"
From a word that's spelt correctly
From a triple word score
To a cheeky little swear.
I love Scrabble.

From the moment I first played
Until my final days
I'll love Scrabble
And playing it with you. 

 
Finally found time to upload more poems. | Print |

Work has been hanging heavy on my heart these past few weeks but I've been keeping to my poem a day (just not had time to upload them until now). So here they are, I can't remember what order they should be in, and I hope I've got them all! I think my favourite of this lot if Finsbury Park or Nation. I've not done today's yet. Will write it later.

#49 - Take My Wife
Take my wife
Shake her about
It makes her fizz
It makes her shout.

Take my wife
Put her in the post
Send her first class
To a city on the coast.

Take my wife
Hide her in a bush
They'll never find her
If you make her hush.

Take my wife
Put her in a pie
Et viola
Wife pie.

#50 - Magic Beans
A man sold me some magic beans
Those beans, I then did sow.
And in the ground a massive plant
Decided it would grow.
I climbed the stalk and at the top
My weight, it took its toll
I landed on the floor because
A bean plant needs a pole.

#51 - Addicted to Poetry
I'm addicted to poetry
I just cannot help myself
I write it - I read it
I want it - I need it
If Haiku was gas then I dare say I'd breathe it.
Yes I'm addicted to poetry
I find that I just cannot stop
As - through life I'm breezing
While others are freezing
In winter - the coldest of all of the seasons
I know I'm addicted to poetry
I feel it every hour
I know it - I know it
I show it - I show it
I find myself rhyming without cause or reasons.

#52 - Staple Confusion
I got confused at Staples
and bought a steeple gun.
Now, In my office - stuck
Through several sheets of paper
Is a large and pointy roof.
Don't ask how it fits in there
Between the desk
Between the chair
It seems to flaunt the laws of Physics
And this stops me getting anywhere.
I went on-line for a solution 
To this most bizarre conundrum.
But the websites are sold out
Of their steeple removers.
So in my office I remain trapped.

#53 - On The Train
Sitting on the train to Birmingham
Trying not to get eye contact with anyone
Especially not them.
      Please ignore me.
Drunken group of kids.
      I know that my hat is an idiot magnet.
Perhaps I should try it on backwards? ----------------
It seems that did not have the desired effect.
Rather than repelling
      Where it previously attracted.
It seems to increase
      My lure to their "wit"
At least
      I think to myself
They don't know my name.
So it isn't as bad as school days once were.
I try to explain
      Why I turned round my hat.
It's a nice hat.
      A bit like a Trilby.
They look confused.
      And wonder if I'm calling them idiots.
But cannot grasp my words.
I thank the UK's education system.
As they pass me by to find more normal prey.

#54 - It's a girl!
It's a girl
      And I'm quite happy.
To comfort her
      To change her nappy.
To go on trips 
      To magical lands.
To dance about
      To wave our hands.
Two silly fools
      Too excited to care.
Two adventurers go
      To the dragon's lair.
To bed on time. 
      To eat your greens.
To teach you how
      To chase your dreams.
To you:
      Who-ever you might be.
      I'm happy that you are a she.

#55 - Finsbury Park.
In Finsbury Park there's a man in the dark.
Feeding pigeons to bread - but don't worry. They are dead.
Bread shapes gather round and emit this strange sound.
Like a flump and a sigh but I'm not quite sure why.
Then as I get near they suddenly hear
And they crumble away, out of sight. Out of fear.
The man shuffles off, with a limp and a cough
He escapes to the night under trees and lamp light.
But I swear, as we wait in the late evening hush...
I see a baguette running under a bush.

#56 - Nation.
We are a nation of wants instead of needs.
Replacing hopes with insane greeds.
A monster of disproportionate consumption
A behemoth operating under one assumption.
The more we take, the more we feel fulfilled.
And so we make. We make until our raw materials have been distilled.
And still -- we want for more and more.
Even though we lack the room to store
The unsold bile excreted from the factory floor.
Made in bulk to lower cost.
Sold en mass to downcast shadows of people feeling lost.
We need food. We need clothes and a place to live.
We need happiness, love and the capacity to give.
We don't need this product driven isolation.
This sense of soul's pure desolation.
So - for my birthday - I'd like a smile.
To go out - perhaps - to walk a while. 
I'd like a birdsong in the morning sun.
To watch a squirrel climb and run.
That's my aim. My dream. My plan.
If I get it, I'll be as rich as any man.

#57 - Candle.
You are a candle in the wind.
              Pointless.
You're the apple of my eye.
          It stings.
You swept me off my feet.
      I bruise easily.
I see you in my dreams.
   Nightmares. 

#58 - I am removing you from my Facebook.
I am removing you from my Facebook.
It's not that I don't like you.
I do.
It's just all those bloody applications.
Things you like. Things you don't.
Some inane and pointless quiz you took.
Maybe we can catch up in real life?
We'll go out for dinner.
Me and Jem and you and your wife.
And no.
I won't join your gang or start a farm.
Life is short enough.
I don't want to deal with all this fluff.
I've got enough gardening to do, without a cabbage field to tend.
So,
Here we are.
I'm clicking unfriend.
Goodbye.
Send.

#59 - Haiku Day
It's a haiku day.
I've been working much too hard.
And now I need beer. 

#60 - A wrong turn in the college
I took a wrong turn in the college,
And found myself in a strange room.
Where men with white faces
Who stood in strange places
Were watching a man with a broom.

I waited to see what was happening.
The man then took out a balloon.
He held it aloft
They all watched it waft
As I wondered if I should leave soon.

When I left he was walking up stairs.
He got in a box which they locked.
The large wind machine
Was a little bit mean
As onto the floor he was knocked.

When I got out it was raining.
The sign on the door said "Mime Training".

#60b (Wrote an extra poem)
As the lights turned green
A school bus came my way
I applauded the driver.
F-off, he seemed to say. 

 
#48 of 100: The Prophet | Print |

I thought of the opening line to this in the bath, it's probably been used before but I'm just going to splurge it onto the page and see how it sits. It's a prophet coming down from the mountain to address the people. I have realised that it's heavily influenced by listening to the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio show at the moment on good old tape cassette. Having ideas in the bath is also Adams influenced, so there.

#48 - The Prophet
PROPHET: In the beginning, was the end.
(LONG-PAUSE)
(PROPHET SHUFFLES HIS FEET AND COUGHS SLIGHTLY)
SPOKESMAN: Is that it?
PROPHET: (Confused) That's all that He saw fit to send.
SPOKESMAN:  It's just, it's a bit...
PROPHET: I'm just the messenger, don't blame me.
SPOKESMAN: You're sure you didn't miss some out?
PROPHET: Hmmm... let me see...
SPOKESMAN: A word, a paragraph, that explains what it's about?
PROPHET: No. I'm pretty certain that was all.
SPOKESMAN: It's just not going to make a very good book.
PROPHET: I could try another call?
BILL: (Quietly) Excuse me? Hello. Look!
PROPHET: Yes, sorry. What's the matter Bill?
BILL: Could we just... make it up? I don't know. Write something about Heaven and Hell?
PROPHET: You mean... Go against His divine will?
SPOKESMAN: He's got a point. It'd certainly sell well.
PROPHET: The very thought makes me feel ill.
SPOKESMAN: You'd rather go and tell the people what you told us?
PROPHET: Why not? It's what I'm sent to teach.
SPOKESMAN: You don't think it would cause a fuss?
BILL: Yeah, I'd pay to see you preach.
          One line and you'd be killed.
PROPHET: (Shaken) What do you suggest?
BILL: Something that will make the people feel fulfilled.
SPOKESMAN: Yes... Bill, I'll help you write it. Don't worry Prophet, you learn the words, we'll sort out the rest.
PROPHET: Yes. Maybe this is for the best.
(FADE OUT - BILL & SPOKESMAN ARE DEEP IN CONVERSATION)
BILL: We could say that those without sin are blessed?
SPOKESMAN: Yes, yes. And those with sin (which is everyone) will get depressed.
BILL: And seek for ways to make amends for their sin.
SPOKESMAN: We'll rake it in!

It's not really inspired by DNA in style, but I think the idea subconsciously came from the conversation between Deep Thought and the philosophers in H2G2. 

 
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