Tag Archives: #letters

There was a B

There was a ‘B’,

an ‘e’

and another ‘e’.

All flying around my head.

It didn’t bother me…


Letters are harmless,

because – here’s the thing –

unlike Bees,

they just don’t sting.

Potatoes and Poets

Poets like potatoes,

and potatoes like poets;

what is more,

a poet can be found in potatoes,

but not in a potato;

a potato, it should be said,

cannot be found in a poet.

It’s all just letters and words,

don’t you think?



A Book


In a Book

A. B. O. O. and K.

The Librarian said,


I C individual letters,

but only when read from the page;

when read aloud,

they mingle – do U C?

U do?


Letters #8

Letters #8

What can you make out of letters?


Words of complaint,

bold enough to make you feint

this way and that;

thrust, parry, Jerusalem Larry;

creative types straight from the font,

you make them do what you want

and curse them when they won’t –

because often they don’t;

you can’t alter their wont,

they’re not yours alone,

and though you try to atone,

I’d give it up for Lent,

if you know what is meant

by a life more or less well spent.

Words don’t come easy

peasy, lemon drizzle cake.

Out of letters come my words,

please make of them what you will


In the Squad Car

In the squad car

Juliet (into walkie-talkie): Oscar Biscuit Tango! Oscar Biscuit Tango!

Oscar: Shouldn’t that be Oscar Bravo Tango?

Juliet: It should, but; as you are named Oscar Biscuit, I thought that I would update our phonetic alphabet a little.

Oscar: I should remind you, Juliet, that your name is Juliet and we can always make strange new phonetic letters to go with that.

Juliet: Such as?

Oscar: Well, um, okay, how about Juliet Zipadeedoodah Fandango?

Juliet: I like it, lots. And I’m going to change my name by deed poll to ‘Juliet Zipadeedoodah Fandango!’

Oscar: you can’t change the Juliet part – you are already Juliet.

Juliet: No, not really; the lads at my first station just called me that because of my being a woman.

Oscar: Oh. What is your real name?

Juliet: It’s a bit embarrassing?

Oscar: You can tell me – I’m Oscar Biscuit, so let’s just be open with our names.

Juliet: Okay. My name is… Charli (with an I and no e) Sue-Lou Foxcroft.

Oscar: And a lovely name it is, too.

Radio Voice: Oscar Biscuit Tango! Oscar Biscuit Tango! It’s Golf Hotel Weekend here – are you receiving me?

Letters #5

Letters #5

(I was supposed to write a poem about ‘Letters’.)

Green, salad-looking, fresh;

with leaves crisp and crunchy;

good friend to the tomato;

yearning for a dollop of Mayo

or Salad Cream,

maybe some light vinaigrette.

When your life’s course has run,

do you say,

Non, rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien.

a la Edith Piaf?

#Letters 4

#Letters 4

I don’t have letters after my name,

nor bailiffs after my goods and chattels;

I am solely to blame

for any skirmishes and battles

that I have entered into

with the dubious intention

of staking my claim

to the wealth of a nation;

and I have ‘never’ liaised with the Devil;

though, to give him his due,

he has ‘never’ ‘ever’ asked me to.

I don’t receive many letters

with my name emblazoned

upon the envelope;

I live in hope,

not literally, but laterally,

and how long is a piece of rope?

What is there left when all soap is gone?

Why do rhetorical questions matter so little to me;

the former? The latter?

the letter of the law is unsure upon this point,

and, so, I anoint myself with the moisture of sweat,

or, better yet,

a lack of physical and mental debt.

We are ‘all’ living in a material world,

and I am a material;

well, maybe knot.

My D.I.G.N.I.T.Y.

becomes less ev’ry day.

PS Good Luck with the above.

#Letters – Deconstructing a Poem

#Letters – Deconstructing a Poem

If you take every individual letter

from this poem

and put them in order of amount of use

it doesn’t make the poem better,

to be terse –

it makes it worse!


And here are the component parts:


























make the words

that make the sentences

that make the words go round

the world.

And I bet,

that an alphabet

is better at aiding that

than a black cravat.

Which is kinda weird;

but, as I’ve said before,

it’s what I do.

Mind your Ps and Qs

Mind your Ps and Qs.

I stood at the end of the Q


to pot the black

or be served.

A letter of importance?


A shy letter?


A letter that has an element of mystery?


The lead letter of certain types of writer?


I stood


at the beginning of a Q

waiting for a P.