Tag Archives: #green


Cluedomania: The need to buy all Cluedo games

in charity shops

on a see/buy basis,

no matter the condition.

Cluedomaniac: A Cluedomaniac seeks

clean Detective Notes – as used ones often lie – often finding ones from the differing editions that have different rooms (Sauna, Outhouse, Communal Showers) and, therefore, never match the boards that have been found.

Cluedopurist: A Cluedopurist only seeks the original Cluedo game, abhors Miss Orchid (as a ‘modern’ abomination to the cast – “Bring back Mrs White!” they cried, then they cried, too.

Cluedoperfectionist: A Cluedoperfectionist varies from one to the other, personally seeking the best revolver, candlestick, length of rope, and character figurines. Let it be known that a piece of yellow coloured plastic in the shape of an obelisk is not Colonel Mustard!

Cluedo: I’ll give you a clue: I did it, in the Library, with the door locked from the inside with my loaded lead pipe.

Cold Mid-Winter Sun

Cold Mid-Winter Sun

Cold Mid-Winter Sun,

all the things you’ve done,

and all the things you’ve seen –

can you tell me why

you are not coloured green?

You’d break the golden rule,

and consider me a fool,

if you could only tell me why

you are not coloured green.

You are like a molten tangerine,

that’s a simile

from silly me,

but, I’d rather you were the colour,

of a peppermint cream.

Please tell me why

you are not coloured green.

Cold Mid-Winter Sun,

all the things you’ve done,

all the things you’ve seen,

do you know

that you are not coloured green??

A little sing-a-long?

A little sing-a-long?

“Green and bear it!”

When they tell you that you have to green and bear it,

don’t listen to them.

You can be green

You can be a vegan

like Peter Egan or Kevin Keegan

who may

or may not be,

as I just used them for the rhyme.

So don’t green and bear it,

share it sparingly,

or not at all,

or lots;

it’s up to you

what you do –

for you are a breathing, thinking, crying, stinking, shrinking, blinking, living doll.

“Living doll!”

Thank you.

A little green (really eats you up)

A little green (really eats you up)

Eat up your greens

before they eat you up;

was something that

I was often told as a child;

Mother had a strange way of getting me to eat all of my vegetables and fruit;

though tomatoes weren’t green,

green tomatoes weren’t invented until the late 1980s.

The thing about writing poetry on Notes microphone is that you don’t always get the words written down that you speak in;

and trying to decipher them afterwards is interesting, don’t you think?

Yes, I thought you did.

A little green (eats you up)

A little green (eats you up)


Green people

of the house;

be you pale lime green

and as cool as cucumbers

or rugged avocado-types

like prime numbers at a mathematical slumber party

(and even I don’t know what any of that meant)

Green – The Poem

Green- The Poem

Green is a colour,

verdant, bright;

dark green is duller;

but, it’s still alright.

When I was a younger fellow,

I used to like the colour yellow;

now I’m older, I’ve started to mellow

so now I like green,

you know what I mean.

Green is nature going well

with the rain, as far as I can tell.

Poets write blue, it’s how they write,


when we feel down

in the middle of the night;

and then there is black, of which I have a lack;

though I can be grey every single day.

Then there is purple,

for when I am older,

start wearing purple,

start getting colder

and then there is red

for when I am dead,

have I forgotten any other hue,

there must be millions,

and that must be true.

Green Tissues

Green Tissues

These… are white tissues.

These, on the other hand,

are green tissues –

sorry, it is green ‘issues’

that I am supposed to speak upon;

they are the big tissues of the day

sorry, ‘issues’, I should say;

The ‘Green’ @Merrymeet.

The ‘Green’ @ Merrymeet.

The ‘Green’

is seen

as a scene

of calm and serene


A little intro and then a poem about ‘Green’ tissues.

A little intro and then a poem about ‘Green’ tissues.

… and I thought, somewhat mistakenly, so it seems, that I was supposed to bring a poem that dealt with green ‘tissues’ – not that I have a preference in the colour of the tissues that I purchase , I’m not prejudiced – and I do still use hankies on occasion (or ‘handkerchiefs’ as they were formerly known.

So this poem is as green as grass –

unless we’re talking about Bluegrass; and, talking about Bluegrass, I like it a lot – but my landlord is none too keen, so it will have to be resprayed.

Anyway, not to waste a good poem – or even a mediocre one – this is ‘Green Tissues’

by me:

Green Tissues,

not to be sneezed at;

the colour of a tissue

doesn’t denote its worth –

as long as the tissue can be recycled,

and doesn’t harm the Earth –

and the shade of green

is not important,

various shades can be purchased,

and, seen from a distance,

all shades are (or seem) the same.

A tissue—

“Bless you!”

Thank you.

A tissue—

“Bless you!”

Thank you, most kind, I’m sure.

A… well, one of these,

is as good as any other tissue is.

So, I don’t really know what the issue is.

An Introduction to the House Of Green

An Introduction to the House Of Green

“As this is the House of Green,

please could you keep your poetry

a trifle clean,

for the word of the obscene is best left unseen;

or best left unheard –

if you know what I mean;

perhaps you could, please, rephrase the vulgar tongue

in any fine poem that you have brung-“

‘What The Fibre!’ I hear you cry.

‘You ought to have said ‘brought’,

you… silly guy.’

“And, at that, we shall begin,

with all the curses to the bin.”