Tag Archives: #Random

Predictive Text Poetry

The badger said to the fox
I am not going to get
I am a bit confused
I can see you tomorrow
I can tell you that
I have never written a poem
I am not a Guillemot
I am a little bit more lively than you
I have never been able to make
I have never been able to do
I can tell you that
Yay for the next time we are all together.

Random poem

Not upon any particular subject,

just a series of words,

in no particular order,

and rhyming not a bit.


Four lines followed by one.


And then one more.


And a final two,

just to be certain.

Just a quick poem to keep a poet’s hand in

Don’t expect too much,


even though I,


haven’t lost my touch,

this is poetry

and not tag-wrestling.

A random leaf

I said ‘Hello!’ to a random leaf;

but, the random leaf ignored me;

I said hello to another leaf –

with the outcome just the same;

I said ‘Hello!’ to many leaves;

but none of them replied –

so, eventually,

I gave up saying hello to random leaves –

it was silly,

and it bored me

Spring Collection (for any day)

The weather yesterday reminded me of this poem:

Grey upon Grey.’

Grey upon grey,

the next layer,

even greyer,

than the one before,

a mixture twixt mizzle and mist,

with heighth, and width, and depth,

all eager to show… nothing,

to hide all,

and live for the moment

in total concealment,

avoiding avidly prying eyes

and random inquisitive glances.


Including the word ‘random’ in my poetry also lead me to this one:

Another Flower.’

I saw another


and another,

in a hedgerow

but, not in a row,

randomly spread

out and about;

they caught my eye;

the colourous shades

made an impression,

so I,

made a digression,

and took

a closer look.


And, even more random, is this:

Random Fandom’

Random Fandom

is a thing…

that poets seldom get;

but, once, and,

maybe not even then,


was admired from afar,

considered a star,

given a ‘Hussah!’



have never forgotten the moment…

when I made that up.


this ‘random’ occurrence happened to me just over a year ago (when I was just over a year younger): I give you:

Charles Darwin is alive and well (and living in Cornwall)’

I saw Charles Darwin

in Liskeard, today;

he was the front-seat passenger

in a random Chevrolet;

he was looking good

for all of his years;

with an even longer white beard

and those tufts in his ears.


Not including the word ‘random’, but ‘random’ would be a very good word to describe this next poem, here is:

‘Poetry to goetry’

Some people like their poetry

to eat in,

they don’t want to take it away,

‘No way, José!’

they say,

‘If we can’t sit down and enjoy it,

we’ll leave it for another day!’


Random Fandom

Random Fandom

Random Fandom

is a thing…

that poets seldom get;

but, once, and,

maybe not even then,


was admired from afar,

considered a star,

given a ‘Hussah!’



have never forgotten the moment…

when I made that up.

Random Words (speak them in a random way)

Random Words

It has come to our attention

that a problem needs a mention

and maybe here and now

is the time we should say how

we think that you could fix it

even if it isn’t broken;

still, it could be mended

to be as good lord God intended

if he exists as spoken

in the words of the ‘Good’ book;

here, take a look…

Pages four hundred seven through eleven

where it tells about the stuff

that if says is most important,

memorise this you’ll get to Heaven

or somewhere else

that’s cold an damp

has one dull lamp

and a mattress.



‘Memes have themes

Some are dumb

Some make sense;

Hence, they are,

And continue to be,

Receiving popularity.’

Now pop that on a random (possibly pretty) picture so that it’s not just words and people with little or no attention span can look at it and ‘maybe’ see the message.


Who He?


Who He?

What He do?

Was He Famous?

I’ve not a clue.

Is He live?


Is He dead?

Is there a price

Upon His Head?

What He write?

Was It good?

I read CrimeFiction

Is He understood?

Who He?

What He do?


Some Words (in a random order)


A community of artists
Had contracted measles.
Lately, this had spread to their easels
(But, fortunately, their weasels were blessed with immunity).
So, enquiring to the possibility
Of hiring (and quickly firing – when job done) some finishists (or anti-startists)
The painter-types sought fainter hypes
With which to remove the lots of spots
To prove that quainter pipes
May get the hots for painting pots
And crushes with those who wield brushes
Could yield bonus paints
Is this going to work?
We don’t know, I shirk
If you have a clue, please phone us
We need your assistance
In this subtle dance
We shall
In a while
That the resist stance
Is futile.