Tag Archives: Poetry

Death on the Beach

It’s never easy to reach

a conclusion;

and even less easy

to reach a beach,

unless you are near one,

and can travel that way.


“Why the title?” you ask.


Well, gentle reader,

a poem must have a title,

or else untitled it is;

or titled ‘Untitled’

if you do desire,

written by a nun

or a non

in a choir.


“That’s just silly!”

commented the gentle reader,

his boots all aglow.

“What is all this nonsense?”


Aside: ‘The gentle reader must go!’


We met on a beach,

face to face,

toe to toe,

I offered the reader a lifeline,

it was tied to a speedboat just so.

Twice round the harbour,

once round the block,

when he returned,

I had a custard-filled sock.


“Whack!” went the sound effect.


“Ow!” the reply.


Now there was a death on the beach;

and, as to the title: that’s why.

Still got stuff to do!

As time moves along

I realise

that I may not

have used my moments wisely:

where is the prophet in my poetry?

Are any of my poems any good?

Has it improved my grandma?

Do I spiel-check my worlds?

Have I a decent poem in me?

Why is a squirrel?


And other questions.


There, 3 minutes of my life gone that I won’t get back!

The Cornish Cheesemen (the Cornish Men of Cheese)

The two Cornish (Kernewek) Cheesemen were hunched over the Cheeseboard, playing Cheese, or ‘Keus!’ as they called it.

Sixteen (hwetek) pieces of Cheese (Keus) each, and then let the game of Cheese (Keus!) commence.

Not sure of the rules, but who needs rules when you have that much Cheese (Keus!)

Not an Ornithologist Haiku

This is different,

that is to say: much the same

as all the others.


Let me expand thus:

my haiku tend to be short

and always ‘en point’.


Throwaway, even;

much to nobody’s surprise,

it’s what I am – no?


So, where one would do,

I have to write several,

which are trite, or worse.


The form is okay,

but the Haiku should be apt –

mine are apt to fade.

Tanka Tuesday using a Senryu

The Robin told me

that I had made an error,

‘Upside-down feeder!’

I looked at the bird feeder,

and saw that Robin was right.

Did you see Feather Christmas?

Did you see Feather Christmas?

Robin was his name,

he bobbed along like Batman,

and played the party game;

pinnedthe tale upon the Heath,

followed Inns off to Jamaica;

he sang the songs with tones beneath

and shook the merry maker.

It rained (and I died)

It rained and rained,

and I got wet,

it soaked me through;

and, yes, I caught pneumonia,

double, died;

and then the rain stopped,

the Sun came out,

and all things dried;

it was a lovely day,

but a shame I’d died.

The Cornish Chough

The Cornish chuff flew from Slough to Peterborough; he landed on a bough, and said, ‘Enough is enough, for now.’ Through the rough night the Chough did cough; but feeling better come the morning, to Loughborough he flew, to see a roof he knew. Later that afternoon, he did go from Loughborough, back to Slough, to Crewe, then to Looe.

“I’m not a complete idiot!”

‘No, I’m not a complete idiot…’

is what I say,

in reply to the question,

‘Are you a complete Idiot?’

‘And then I add,

‘… I have a few bits missing; so, not a complete idiot, am I?’

Paraphrasing from Shania,

‘This doesn’t impress them much’.

Blank Holiday Haiku (Haiku in the plural)

No it is not blank;

there are many words writ here;

but, not that much sense.


So, perhaps, write more

than just one single haiku,

will two haiku do?


Or is three enough;

not that there is much content,

just a lot of fluff.

Like in the settee,

which is not quite relevant;

but, is a true fact.


Should these haiku rhyme?

Perhaps I should have prepared

before I started.


Or is this just a

Stream-of-Consciousness haiku,

that goes where it wants?


So many questions –

and so few answers at all –

typical Graeme.


Anyway, my friend,

it’s not so blank now is it,

but, just as silly.


And, no, it won’t rhyme;

time after time I’ve told you,

my haiku don’t do

what I want them to.