I don’t know why
fly, in Cornish,
became something bigger;
things like this
are hard to figure,
even though ‘kelyonen’
is a great name,
it seems too grand
for a tiny little one,
it’s like calling an ant
a ‘jeberenteringtun’
(which it isn’t – it’s ‘moryonen’)
‘tykki Duw’ on the other hand,
is Cornish for butterfly,
and that makes me happy.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #Ant, #Butterfly, #Cornish, #Fly, #Kelyonen, #Moryonen, #poetry. #poem, #tikkiDuw
“Have Cape: Will Fly!”
“Have cake – staying firmly on the ground.”
That’s a thing, you see.
I changed one letter of a word
and a strange thing occurred.
“Cape – not Cake!”
or, more likely,
“Cake – not Cape!”
will be the brash slogan/s
of the future,
there for all to see,
whether hero or zero …
‘Hero – not Zero!”
or, more likely …
“Zero – not Hero!”
will also be up there
on the billboards
in letters twenty feet high!
Now wouldn’t that be a thing?
I was attacked by a crowfly yesterday;
it came straight at me,
in that way that crowflies do.
I am the ghost in the machine,
the elephant in the room,
the fly in the ointment,
the wolf in sheep’s clothing;
and I have a loathing
for what I am.
I am the ghost in the room,
the elephant in the machine,
the wolf in the ointment,
and the fly in sheep’s clothing;
and I have a loathing
of what I have become.
I am the wolf in the room,
the fly in the machine,
the elephant in the ointment,
the ghost in sheep’s clothing;
and I have a loathing for this type of poem,
where the combinations grow
with every word
ever more and more absurd –
I am the septic in the poem,
or should that be sceptic?
Anyway, as I was saying,
I am the poet
in the septic,
tank.
No, that’s not right…
I am the poet in the room,
sheepishly wearing wolf’s clothing,
flying in the ghost machine,
whilst coated in ointment…
allegedly.
Graeme Sandford 