Tag Archives: #silly

Lippery Sleeves

“Watch out for the lippery sleeves!”

I called, to a cyclist bycling sigh.

He took no notice, not a bittle lit,

his fycra lashed,

his spedals pan

and then he went tass over it.

Last Poem

They do say

that you are

only as daft

as your last poem.


Or, if that poem is unfinished,

your last poetic outing

in draft.


But, how will I know

when I have written my last poem?


Or can I choose

to go forward

to Hell

from this place of dwell

when I have written

a particularly daft one,

or even a sensible one –

though what are the chances of that …

Uther Pendragon Kellaly

Uther Pendragon Kellaly,

father of Arthur …

and the inventor

of tiny little guitars …

The Education of Begonias

Now, why Begonias should need an education is beyond me – as are so many other, less important, things. But, if I just go along with the premise that they do, then I shall be able to comprehend why these things are.

It is at this point that I ask,

‘Why is monosyllabic such a long word?’

And other questions. Eventually.

Returning to Begonias,

‘Last night I dreamt I went to Begonias again.’

as was once, fictionally, almost uttered by the second Mrs. de Winter in the book ‘Rebecca’ by Daphne du Maurier.

‘Amanda was a carpet-fitter,

Amanda lay a carpet.’

as was recently written by me in my short prose piece, ‘Education for Begonias’

But, to the crux of the matter – or the important bit (whichever you prefer) – the Begonias.

Not the 1963 film directed by Alfred Hitchcock, nor the famous (yet unheard of) pop group from the mid-1960s, but the specific breed of flower. Begonia Obliqua as the Latins might have called it if they were alive today.

Actually, all plants need to be fed and watered with knowledge otherwise they shall remain ignorant and grow the wrong way down a one-way dead-end street.

So, send them to college, fill them with knowledge, and make sure that they ‘are’ Begonias, and not Triffids – there is a difference, but only time William Tell what it is.

Up the Begonias.

Why didn’t I mention ‘Begonias for Beginners’?

There’s your other question.

I won a falafel in a raffle once.

I won a falafel in a raffle once.

Actually, that’s a fib;

or it may be a fig

-ure of speech.

I do that;

it is my wont;

I’d be surprised,

if I were you

(which I’m not)

if you read my words

and there wasn’t

a hint

of pocket lint


Anyway, less is more;

and, so …


Yesterday, I saw a unicorn;

today, I saw an antelope –

well, obviously, there were two ants,

and I’m just assuming

that they were eloping;

but, you know me.

Oh my gosh, it was beyond belief, today, I was hit on the head, by a great big leaf!

Well, the title says it all,

so I don’t have to pen a tale so tall;

and when you shout, ‘What?’

I answer the call,

because, in my dictionary

‘Pride’ comes before ‘Fall’.

It’s not a very good dictionary,

actually, it’s fictionary.

The Beach Route

In my purple prose

I have rarely written about ‘Beetroot’,

maybe this is because I am not a big fan;

or any type of fan,

I am just a mortal man – just –

and, thinking back to where it all began,

gives me a headache,

and so I won’t.

Don’t laugh, be serious a moment,

and turn that corner when you come to it –

unless you are reading a real book,

when you should use a bookmark.

Hark! No, it was just nothing,

or the sound of one hand slow-clapping.

I never know the difference,

hence, it is all the same to me.

Take the easy path,


take the beach route

and be true to yourself.

Dancing on Rice

I’ve recently starred

in Dancing on Rice;

it was unintentional,

and surprisingly nice;

my tap shoes in the sink,

I began to think,

that Rice wine is fine,

even divine –

if you like that sort of thing;

and howling at the Moon

is just wolves trying to sing.


Isn’t it Iconic?

Don’t you think?

“What? A drink?

A name?

Seeing the shrink-wrap man blink?”

No, it’s none of those,

and more.


the title promises more

than it delivers;

and that tends to send shivers

down the spine of my book.