Tag Archives: #hangerfarmpoets

#dialogueforaplay (Tweets 91-105) The Ending is Nigh!

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 91-105

91

The PC chases doctors off stage. DCI looks bemused.

DCI: I look confused. Ergo: I am confused. I do follow. Leaves.

Tbc

92

Lady Whom, DC Acey and Laura/Laurence Protocol are left along with the stiff.

DC Acey: I don’t know about you lot.

Tbc

93

Lady W: Really!

DC Acey: I hadn’t finished – I was going to add ‘but, I’m confused!’

Laura: Well, you’re not alone!

Tbc

94

Lady W: Is he dead yet?

Laur: I’ll kick him.

DC Acey: Ouch!

Laur: He’s alive.

Lady W: I meant ‘him!’ (points)

Tbc

95

Laur kicks the stiff.

Stiff: Ouch!

Laur: He is ‘also’ alive.

Lady W launches a knife into the stiff.

Stiff: Really!

Tbc

96

Lady W: I had to do that; he’s been asking for it.

Laur: I didn’t hear him.

DC Acey: ‘And’ he ‘was’ already ‘dead!’

Tbc

97

Lady W: I just need to remove a couple of witnesses.

DC Acey: I pity them. More throwing daggers?

Lady W: Oh, yes!

Tbc

98

Laur: I think she means ‘us!’

DC Acey: Really?

Laur: I wish we’d all stop saying ‘really!’

Lady W: Your wish is…!

Tbc

99

Lady W throws 2 knives and DC Acey gets the point, Laura gets a 6-inch blade neatly between the eyes!

Lady W: Bye!

Tbc

100

Lady W: Being in the circus was excellent training for life… or for death… situations; I’m so glad I ran away!

Tbc

101

The Policemen Return.

DCI: Hello three times; what’s been going on here, then?

Lady W: Are you talking to me?

Tbc

102

DCI: Seems like you are the ‘last man standing!’

Lady W: Really!

DCI: it’s just a phrase!

PC: He’s going through!

Tbc

103

Lady W: I saw it all!

PC: You look like you’ve been around a bit!

Lady W: A masked man ran into the room and slew!

Tbc

104

DCI: Slew?

Lady W: Yes ‘slew!’ And having slewed, he ran off into the night!

PC: It’s 3:30!

Lady W: The afternoon!

Tbc

105

DCI: Constable, we are going to need some more ‘chalk’ outlines. If you can just mosey off, good lad. Don’t rush.

Tbc

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#dialogueforaplay (tweets 76-90) The Gravy Plot Thickens

hash-tag dialogueforaplay 76-90

76

DCI: It’s my opinion that the ‘perpetrator’ was known to the ‘victim’.

PC: They were married, sir.

DCI: Precisely!

Tbc

77

DCI: Constable, I want you to round up the witnesses and have them all gathered in the… here… In ten minutes.

Tbc

78

DCI: I shall now round up the ‘stiff’ and the ‘murderer’ and then we shall have one of those ‘Poirot-like’ reveals.

Tbc

79

The police leave in opposite directions. Then recross the room, leave again. The ‘stiff’ returns, resumes place.

Tbc

80

Nothing happens for a few minutes. Apart from the ‘stiff’ trying to get comfy. The phone rings. Nobody answers it.

Tbc

81

Phone stops. Dr P enters, answers the unringing phone.

Dr P: Hello… Yes… 14 ounces in a pound, no. 16! Bye!

Tbc

82

Dr P: Are you still dead?

Stiff: Me?

De P: Nobody else here.

Stiff: Dead as a Do.

Dr P: Dodo?

Stiff: Not that dead!

Tbc

83

Dr P: So, there is no victim.

Stiff: I’m teaching them a lesson.

Dr P: ‘Them’ are my family!

Dr P shoots the stiff.

Tbc

84

Dr P leaves. The Police et al return (not Dr P).

DCI: Hello, hello, hello…

Omnes: Hello!

DCI: I heard a gunshot!

Tbc

85

PC: I can see those months at Detective School weren’t wasted.

Dr 1: The dead man!

Omnes: What?

Dr1: He’s… dead!

Tbc

86

Dramatic Chords

Dr 1: No, he’s really dead. Before, he was only pretentious!

Stiff: Pretending!

Dr 1: Pretending.

Tbc

87

DCI: So, he’s ‘really’ dead?

Dr 1: Really! I should know – I am a doctor!

Dr P enters.

Dr P: No, that is not true!

Tbc

88

DCI: Not a doctor?

PC: Not ‘dead?’

Dr 1: Yes, I am not a ‘dead’ doctor.

Dr P: Nor a ‘doctor!’

Dr1: What about Nora?

Tbc

89

DCI: It seems a murder ‘may’ or ‘may not’ have occurred, I shall go to any lengths.

Dr1: Are you paid by the yard?

Tbc

90

Dr P: What about my ‘impersonating a doctor’ accusation?

DCI: I take that most seriously. Constable, arrest him!

Tbc

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Waiting Room Woes 1

Waiting Room

I don’t know about you (I really don’t)

But, I find Waiting Rooms depressing;

People stressing, worried about undressing for the doctor (or is that just me?)

You see, I saw a lady doctor last time I was here when I was expecting…

expecting to see a man doctor!

Well, I didn’t realise until the Display Screen in the Waiting Room ran through the staff, I mean…

Doctor Ellvick (I’ve changed Dr Elliot’s name to save her blushes) was a woman, with a woman’s hands and fingers!

Well, the memory lingers.

I apologised for being a man, for being me, for being!

You see, I am of a nervous disposition at the best of times and at the worst of times.

There are patients to the left of me, patients to the right of me, but too few, by far, in front of me!

They’ll call my name in a minute, and I will walk the walk of shame to the room of unease, please let me be the recipient of a miracle cure right here, right now.

“Graeme Sandford?” she calls.

Wish me luck; G give me strength. I say (inwardly)

Is it too late to DNA?

Lines Upon a Page (LBN)

I…

IMG_5141 edit 1

…am taking centre stage

(in an LBN – a little black number

which is slightly ‘off the wall’)

Am I on the right lines

As I preside over my court?

I focus upon the passers-by

who are by-passing the others to gaze

solely at my décolletage;

barely pausing at the collage next to me;

before also by-passing the purchasing of a single thing.

When suddenly, I descried someone wearing…

IMG_5140 edit 1

almost

the exact same creation as me!

Imagine my total loss of elation.

Just imagine!

I could have cried.

Now, side by side we stand;

IMG_5232

Imperceptible in our differences

almost

but, one of discerning tastes

Must have preferences…

Look at her page lines!

I, am the real

deal.

————————————————————-

This poem was inspired by the two delightful pictures above by the Natural Connections artist Sarah Louise Baker.

For more information, visit:http://www.hampshireartandcraft.org/community–fundraising-events.html

Picture

Saturday 8th November 2014, 6.30 – 8.30pm

An evening of poetry by The TeaPoet Collective responding to an exhibition of paintings and sculpture by artists from The Yard Studios at Rum’s Eg Gallery.

The work is on show at Rum’s Eg art and craft gallery in Romsey from 8 October to 9 November. You are invited to look at images of the artwork on the gallery website click here…. or visit the gallery in person and write your own poem. Please send poems to natural@teapoet.org.uk or contact them for more information.

The poetry will be presented at this lively and informal event in the first floor Cafe at Rum’s Eg, with a bar and snacks on the night. The event is free but please email teapoets to let them know if you are coming.

Washian Roulette

washing the cat

Washian Roulette

Spin, spin, spin;

Will I win?

Red or Black?

Lose or win?

Where and when will the whites within

Choose to land?

Round and round

The machine is sound

It will not play me false 

It dances back and forwards

Like a modern-day Dickensian waltz

The powders and the liquids 

Help to clear my mindings

If it all goes to plan

I shall be pleased with final findings

Spin, spin, spin;

Shall I win?

Or shall the chamber be filled

With a bulletin of promises

That leaves my tears so spilled

Watching and waiting

Waiting and wondering

If all this time I’m waiting for a joining

Or waiting for a sundering.

Spin, spin, spin… 

Poets Die in Hot Cars

Poets die in hot cars
Poets die in hot cars;
While doggerels lay exhausted in the heat of the midday 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?

Walkus 98-103 (Tennyson, Walks & Rover) by Vega & Haiku

haiku-poetry walkus 98-103

Walku 98 (Tennyson)

Vega:
“Water to the left…”
Haiku:
“Water to the right…”
Both:
“Into the puddles!”

-/-

Walku 99 (A Walk in the Woods)

Vega:
“Along forest paths
Through the winding woods we go…”
Haiku:
“Daddy will guide us.”

-/-

Walku 100 (Rover!)

Haiku:
“What’s ‘Roverandom?’ ”
Vega:
“It is a book by Tolkein.
It’s about a dog.”

Walku 101 (and Rover again!)
Haiku:
“What does this dog do?”
Vega:
“He has lots of adventures
And goes to the moon.”

Walku 102 (Rover and Out!)
Haiku:
“Is he big and brave?”
Vega:
“No, pint-size; he is tiny –
Smaller than you are!”

Walku 103 (And Really Out)

Haiku:
“It’s not ‘quantity’
It’s the quality that counts –
And it’s there ‘I’ win!”.

-/-

Haiku today is going on her first solo Walkus - 4 penned with a wistful feel to them.

#puppy # puppies