Tag Archives: Poetry

Nadelik Lowen Haiku

“Nadelik Lowen!”

I called to all the people.

“Kynnyav yw!” they cried.

The Keen of a Buzzard

I feel, that the certain sound of an uncertain keen would melt a heart of steel; and, I know that steel melts at approximately 395,000°F*, but I’m sure that the sound of that keening would definitely melt a heart of steel.

*actually steel melts at about 2,500°F – but, poetic licence always has priority over dumb facts.

4 and 20 Black and White Birds Baked in a Pie – Recorded Audio from my phone (and a translation).

I saw a pie in a magazine a cookery magazine so I bought that mag I carried home the magazine and a 5p bag I saw that in the pie recipe there there are four and 20 black and white birds I stopped and I did stare black and white birds baked in a pie oh no no no no no why when the pie seems to be opened the birds will begin to sing there’s a thing I still think it’s cruelty to bake for and 20 black and white birds in a pie I have to write and ask the magazine why

—//—

I saw a pie in a magazine

a cookery magazine,

so I bought that mag,

I carried home the magazine in a 5p bag;

I saw that in the pie recipe there were four and twenty black and white birds—

I stopped and I did stare…

‘black and white birds baked in a pie!’

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, why?

When the pie seems to be opened,

the birds will begin to sing – there’s a thing.

I think it’s cruelty to bake four and twenty black and white birds in a pie –

I just have to write and ask the magazine why.

As I was going to…

And you thought I wouldn’t go there…

again.

As I was going to…

St. Ive

I thought,

perhaps,

when I get there

I’ll never leave;

but, who’s to say

whether I’ll stay,

I change my mind

most every day –

as is my wont –

so who’d be surprised,

if maybe I don’t.

As I was going to…

As I was going to…

Steve’s,

I took a wrong turning,

and went to St. Ives,

where I met a man

who had had many many wives

(None of them his own –

the naughty man)

and each wife

had a bone to pick,

and each bone was

a quarter inch thick,

and each quarter inch

wasn’t really that thick…

Man, wives, bones, thicks…

How many people we’re going to Steve’s?

Lockdown Rap – #PureNonsense

Lockdown shockdown

Breakdown shakedown

Fake crown – hat!

Lookdown shookdown

Makefrown takedown

Wakedown – cat!

Boreddown nowfrown

lookdown sockdown

clowndown – that!

Sleeper (Cryptic Messages)

Undercover,

I rehearse the lines

that will take me to the stage;

character assassination

is not my thing,

but under the duvet

I will know

if it is Christmas

or not.

Soft Landings

I was after a soft landing,

when I fell from on high;

I didn’t want to die,

in a painful way.

I prayed for a soft landing,

as I fell through the air;

I prayed for twenty mattresses,

arranged… just there.

I had an idea

I had an idea

I had an idea

for a poem,

a wonderful poem,

better than all that I have ever written

before…

then I saw a hypothetical squirrel…

… and that poem was no more.

Random Fandom

Random Fandom

Random Fandom

is a thing…

that poets seldom get;

but, once, and,

maybe not even then,

I,

was admired from afar,

considered a star,

given a ‘Hussah!’

and,

I,

have never forgotten the moment…

when I made that up.