Tag Archives: #Sad

I’m ‘there’ in the picture.

I’m ‘there’ in the picture,

can’t you see?

I’m the idjut swimming

in the cold of the sea;

I’m the one at the back

dawdling free;

I’m the clown at the fair

but no-one’s looking at me;

I’m the invisible man

stood next to the tree;

I’m the one who is missing

from the picture,

God bless me.

Keeping A Light On. (Revisited).

Keeping A Light On. (Revisited).

Every evening, the little old man climbed to the top of the spiral staircase to light the lamp; staying there, thinking upon life, until the dawn’s early light rose. He slept, during the day, in a cot near the base of the lighthouse; eating the food that the kind folk from the village left him.

For forty years he had tended to the flame that shone out for the mariners’ safety; like his father, and his grandfather, before him.

The mariners, whose sea had receded ten miles beyond the old coast line many, many years ago.

“It’s New Year’s Eve, Babe.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve, Babe.

It’s New Year’s Eve,

and time to leave,

to make way

for another one.

What did I achieve?

Well, that depends

on who you are,

and where you are.

There must have been some good,

in some neighbourhood,

to balance out the bad;

but, let’s face the facts,

in scenes, or acts,

there are always

the winners

and the losers.

Remember this,

beggars can’t be choosers,

and the poor

get poorer,

as the rich

eat all the pies.

A very short song about the plight of carrots and parsnips in water.

A very short song about the plight of carrots and parsnips in water.

It’s in standard tuning and uses the chords Gmaj / Cmaj / Gmaj, even though it is quite a sad song.

G is the Root Note (as is C)

If you use drop D tuning it sounds slightly like Nickleback.

Here it is:

Gmaj

Gmaj

Singing: carrots sink…

Cmaj Gmaj

and parsnips float.

You can let the final Gmaj on ‘float’ ring to extend the song for a few seconds more – or not, if you are stuck for time.

Enjoy

G:)

Sad Poem 😥

Sad Poem 😥

I’ve got a little dog,

I took it for a jog,

we ran into a bog

… and s

a

n

k

.

The happy / sad Bat Limerick

The happy / sad Bat Limerick

There once was a bat, upside down

whose smile was perceived as a frown;

she now cries as she hangs,

people shy from her fangs

and call her a miserable clown.

The Lonely Words in the Woods.

The Lonely Words in the Woods.

I must go down to the words today,

the lonely words in the wood;

the ones that just aren’t used enough;

and not because

they are no good;

but, because they are so shy;

and no one goes to visit them,

and if someone does, they cry.

The words all hide

amongst the trees,

they keep themselves unspoken;

solitude is the thing they crave,

a silence likened to the grave,

or a morning quite unbroken.

I must just go,

to see they’re safe,

check they haven’t wilted;

for they had worth

in better days

before their use was stilted.

I must go down to the words today,

the lonely words in the wood.

Poem in a Doorway

Poem in a Doorway

This poem woke up in a doorway this morning;

it had little in the way of a plan,

so it just sat there yawning;

until a passing poetry critic

hurled some abuse – non analytic –

along the lines of: ‘You smell!’

and not ‘All is well

that ends well.’

as a man once said;

I remember that

as I am not stupid,

though I may whiff a bit.

A kindly word

in deed

is what I need;

but, I am either invisible

or derisible.

This poem woke up in a doorway

this morning.

Metamorphacake

Metamorphacake

I awoke one day

to find

that I had turned into a cake.

Overnight, I had become various ingredients,

which were unceremoniously mixed, folded, beaten,

cooked in an oven

at a temperature unknown.

I awoke, and, later that day,

I was cut into slices

and eaten.

A Short Story

Once upon a time…

… there was a short story.

It wasn’t long at all;

and it wasn’t at all tall.

So short it was,

and set out so,

that it thought it was a poem;

but, it wasn’t.

It didn’t have much to say;

but, one day,

under the bluest of skies,

It left it’s home

and went off to seek fame and fortune.

Finding neither,

the short story settled down

with an extract from Coleridge’s Mariner,

and they lived happily ever after.