Tag Archives: words

‘Everything up north is monochrome’

‘Everything up north is monochrome’

‘Everything up north is monochrome’

I was told this by a chappie who lives there;

‘It’s all black and white,

but we like it, alright;

and it helps us to sleep well through t’ night.

Though… ‘ he said, having thought on a bit,

‘If we are the claret and blue loyal…’

and here his argument fell into pieces,

‘Dang! I’d have got away with saying it, if it hadn’t have been for those darn meeces!’

It was there that I realised

he had mixed up his kids’ TV references,

and I left the conversation at that.

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#Letters 4

#Letters 4

I don’t have letters after my name,

nor bailiffs after my goods and chattels;

I am solely to blame

for any skirmishes and battles

that I have entered into

with the dubious intention

of staking my claim

to the wealth of a nation;

and I have ‘never’ liaised with the Devil;

though, to give him his due,

he has ‘never’ ‘ever’ asked me to.

I don’t receive many letters

with my name emblazoned

upon the envelope;

I live in hope,

not literally, but laterally,

and how long is a piece of rope?

What is there left when all soap is gone?

Why do rhetorical questions matter so little to me;

the former? The latter?

the letter of the law is unsure upon this point,

and, so, I anoint myself with the moisture of sweat,

or, better yet,

a lack of physical and mental debt.

We are ‘all’ living in a material world,

and I am a material;

well, maybe knot.

My D.I.G.N.I.T.Y.

becomes less ev’ry day.

PS Good Luck with the above.

Letters.

Letters.

Letters

make the words

that make the sentences

that make the words go round

the world.

And I bet,

that an alphabet

is better at aiding that

than a black cravat.

Which is kinda weird;

but, as I’ve said before,

it’s what I do.

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.

A few wise words (but, not these ones).

A few wise words (but, not these ones).

The complete absence of anything,

leaves nothing as your only choice.

So, choose carefully, lest your voice be heard.

And, to begin, a final word:

throw Causton to the wind,

if you’ve a mind,

find a place where you can unwind,

and tread carefully

when you have read in Caerphilly.

“What do ‘you’ do…?”

“What do you do…?”

What do you do

when you have no words

but somewhere to put them;

have words

but nowhere to put them;

don’t have words

and

nowhere to put them

even if you did have them?

Wait for the time

when you have words

and

somewhere to put them?

Maybe.

Words Haiku

Words Haiku

Words are difficult;

They don’t help you to use them –

And seldom play fair.