Tag Archives: words

When they said…

When they said,

‘There’s a bounty on your head!’

I checked for chocolate.

But found none.

I asked them what they’d meant,

and they said, ‘Give it up…

for Lent.’

What cheekie chappies they are.

My task (if I choose to choose it)

My task –

if I choose to choose it –

is to write a poem that includes the word,

‘redintegate’.

But, as I have so much upon my plate,

I shall have to decline,

and prevaricate.

When your brain is having a bit of a day off

When the words that normally flow

have gone somewhere

that only they know,

a degree of silence

may be forthcoming.

Saviour?

I helped to save

a grasshopper,

an unknown bug,

and a bit of twig,

from the water

in a water bowl

that I had left out

for a dog,

a hog,

or a hydrophobic frog

on a gap year.

I almost saw myself

as some kind of a saviour;

they probably saw me as a

naughty boy

of long-term bad behaviour,

trying to redeem the voucher of himself.

When there’s a bee in your beer

When there’s a bee in your beer

please remove it;

I know you’ll be left with an ‘r’,

but I think that is better by far.

If there’s a bee in your ear,

and it’s not that easy to hear;

well, that’s a different matter altogether.

Early Morning Poetry Creation (06:49-06:53)

Having said al that

in my last post,

I should also,

at this moment,

now,

warn you about poetry

that is written mid-morning (5-8am).

It can be even worse than late-night words

written when tired,

n that,

the brain, not having woken up,

will be outputting all sorts

of strange thoughts –

none of which should be written down,

or acted upon.

There is a very small window

of tiime

fir the writing of a decent rhyme—

and ‘now’ isn’t it.

Poetry from a far off land

I hear your words,

as if they were echoes,

spiralling down

through the centuries;

and then realise that only days have past,

since your words were cast.

Words on a Page

I put

words upon a page;

it’s something I’ve done

for an age.

They might not be the best,

as good as the rest,

but, in them

my time

I invest.

Nerdle and Bardle

Numbers and Shakespeare,

what’s not to like?

It all adds up

to a mindful conclusion;

Ariel from The Tempest,

and Arden from the Sum of the Dream,

both seem a part of the whole,

a Bard of the Soul,

a solution of worth,

Labours Lost in such mirth,

and All’s Well

That Ends…

well?

Pen*s

Pen*s

is just an anagram

of sp*ne

and p*nes,

sn*pe and sep*n –

and if sep*n

isn’t a word

then it d*rn well ought to be.

They are just w*rds,

l*tters on a p*ge,

so what are you all that worr*ed about?