Monthly Archives: April 2014


Playing ping-pong with King-Kong in Hong Kong
Had left me needing a little pick-me-up
So, I headed off for a green tea and some Tai-chi, though some would disagree about that possibility.

Well refreshed and washed and brushed I resumed my sporting endeavours

And, later, with all javelins hurled, lakes swum and winning anthems hummed along to,

I decided that my efforts were worthy of a large cool glass of lemonade – made from best grade lemons and first class bubbles

Then, my troubles really began; for one man alone cannot drink a gallon of lemon-based pop…

Or, he too, may go POP!

And once you pop you just can’t…
Well, you know… stop.

And the day then passed in a merry wonder of laughter and fun

Like a ‘happy ever after’ and a ‘look what I dun!’ combined

Whether they wanted to be or not.

“What?” I hear you ask “Are you waffling on about?”

I have no doubt that when it is all sorted out, you’ll shout “oh, I get it ; you were doing a stream-of-consciousness poem and that’s why it’s rubbish!”

Which is not the best comment upon my work that I’ve ever had. (but, maybe the most frequent)

Which is probably why – no matter how hard you try – no sense here will you espie.

PS – No refund of time spent reading this will be offered – always read the small print – if you have any small print proffered – which you haven’t.




Iffy by Graeme Sandford

When you are tired
And near expired
When your brain is a fuddle
And your thoughts all a muddle
When left and right are barely known
And the means to speak you do not own
When your eyes are closing with a snap!
When your want is for bed and a little nap
When you have lots to do but you can’t think what
When you are making coffee with an extra extra extra shot
When you spill the water, the milk, the lot
When you wished that you’d gone early to bed
When the toast you burnt is more charcoal than bread…
You’ll be nearly awake, my son.


3:35am by Graeme Sandford

Graedy Needy Typo – prompt – by Graeme Sandford

Greed: a need for speed and more
Feed me; feed all my needs- encore!
I plead indeed until greed is fed
And feed my ego, too. I’ve said
It once, and I’ll say it again
Feed Me! Give Me what is Mine!
And, did I mention – I NEED FEEDING!

Did You?

It is said that it is best to
‘Keep your Didg in the fridge
To stop it from melting
The hearts or the minds
Of those who will list
To starboard and larboard’
(Which now we call ‘port’)
And a thought has yet again occurred (different than the last one- the ‘tied-to-the-mast’ one)
To me; that, for every positive reaction there is an option for an equally negative reaction and that, further to this, that this may not have been an aboriginal thought.

And did you redo the rules for equality when you said that women couldn’t blow down one end and run their fingers up and down the outside?

Did you?

April the 28th – ‘Lifted’ by Graeme Sandford

I press a button lightly…
It’s not for a place that I want to go
But, I’d love to press it firmly
And to be taken where know not I do not know.

I press a button firmly…
The one I always press, it is just so
Always the game, always the same choice
The decision made, not lightly, I listen to the voice inside of me
And choose to keep the choice the same.

One day, I will press the other button
And see where It takes me
One day I will travel to a distant land…
But, for now, I shall keep to the known path
That takes me to my present destination…

But, one day…

Favouritism (Version B)

Where the Bee sucks
When the Bee stings
Two different stories
One is and one is not on my list of favourite things.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring
And if tomorrow can sing a differing tune
To the one that I howl at the full of the moon?

Not that I can charm the bees to a quietness of ease
That is dizzy and woozy on a hazy reprise
From the rush and the hustle that is a normal-day bustle
A bee is and does and has a purpose to achieve
If that purpose is not achieved then a bee has to decide
Whether to be a Bee or not to be a Bee
That is the question that he will ask himself
Time and time again

While Bees everywhere work merrily at their labours singing:

“Do bee do bee doo…

Do do bee do bee… “




Remember Remember

At the break of the day,
And at the setting of the sun;
At the approach of the darling buds of May
When all is lost or won
When push comes to shove
And minds and hearts to love
Then shall you be free
To choose to win to lose
For as you walk along the valley of the shallow half-breath
You shall fear no-one
And none this day shall be afear’d
That lie abed and count themselves unlucky to have been so.

For those that have gone
Those that are
And those yet to be
Or not
May we be truly thankful



Numerically Speaking by Graeme Sandford

To quench my thirst
Took more than I reckoned
But, a thought occurred –
If I travelled North

And learned a few obscure guitar licks
It would be heaven.
But, as a downright reprobate
I should be fine
– if… And when.

Book Lovers’ Lament by Graeme Sandford

Poets die in hot cars;

While doggerels lay exhausted in the heat of the midnight sun

Lacking fluid and needing the shadow

Of Autum-te-dum leaves.

The sweat of a writer’s brow trickles between lashes

And splashes of colour lighten up an otherwise dull shade of grey.

Old tomes lie, unread, unnoticed and largely unwanted
when minute devices carry their weight lightly
Politely giving up their words at the press of a button
Although some would think of Shakespeare as Lamb dressed up like Milton.
Or Brie compared to Stilton.

Poems die in a bright non-blaze of apathy
Lounging in cupboards and drawers; spouting off about charges and wars
When all the people want is a quick laugh

Then another

Without too much bother
“Brother, can you spare the time to read a book?”
“A what?”
And so it goes
Where it will end
Nobody knows.
The written word is fading and blurred
And will be long forgotten
When all things have occurred
That are happening now.
Learning to read?
What is the need?