March 27, 2016

 

 

How alarming to see the seam

of a lampshade burning bright.

Oh, the urge to turn it around,

until the seam out of sight.

 

How ridiculous to pick up litter

whilst walking along the street.

When behind you a million items

discarded at people’s feet. 

 

How unsettling to see out of place,

that which should be stood in line.

How damned annoying to feel so critical,

when OCD enters your world and mine.

 

 

 

December 26, 2015

 

 

My luck’s in today,

a dandelion said ‘Hi’.

The first of the Spring, or maybe,

the last of the Summer to die?

 

 

May 7, 2015

 

 

And of the ones he

thought who might,

he found Delphinia

a total delight!

 

She tapped into,

his inner senses.

They experimented with

unknown consequences.

 

And of the ones he

thought who might,

his gut feeling was

to prove him right.

 

By dawn Delphinia

was on her way.

No questions asked

at close of play.

 

But how small the world

with the travelling elite;

she found Mendotta to be sat

in the very next seat.

 

(They had once attended

the same ‘Finishing School’,

in Switzerland,

where the air is cool.)

 

And she passed on to Mendotta,

the number of a guy,

who she nicknamed ‘Perry’,

who she suggested, she try.

 

Astonished, Mendotta

accepted with grace;

at the same time feeling

a flush to her face!

 

Later, the ladies ‘air kissed’

and went separate ways.

How temptation, tantalisingly,

with the mind, stays!

 

 

 

 

 

May 2, 2015

 

 

It’s a brave man now

who will sell hot spuds,

at two in the morning,

if he values his goods.

 

 

January 4, 2015

 

 

They ask ‘Who is he;

give me some common ground,

so a realistic conversation,

I can then turn around’.

 

They say ‘Give me some detail,

about what makes him tick,

so words can be exchanged,

without me looking quite thick’.

 

They ask ‘Does he like dogs,

or is he a cat man’?

‘Fill me in on his background

as soon as you can’.

 

They beg ‘Let me see his resume;

his imagination to catch’?

But he’ll know in a second,

the plan that you hatch!

 

I say ‘to hell with all that;

take him as he comes,

if you’re ever going to be,

agreeable chums’.

 

See him as a blank canvas;

your own picture create.

If you start off with bullshit,

no progress you’ll make.

 

Don’t you think that he knows,

each irritating sycophant,

and each line of nonsense,

that out of their mouths, pant?

 

If you go down that route,

polite excuses he’ll make,

just to get the hell away,

for his sanity’s sake.

 

Just imagine him naked,

but on second thoughts not,

as a sudden fit of giggles,

would see you a clot.

 

And what if the worst happens

and an opportunity is missed:

Is it such a big deal,

if he doesn’t know you exist?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

December 19, 2014

 

 

…and age old eggs

with a highland twist,

stolen from the nest

with deft of wrist.

 

…and beige emerged

when stripped back nude;

no satisfaction

for a prude.

 

…and soothing cream

used as a crutch,

when piles no longer,

sore to touch.

 

All these and more

have been duly noted,

and stored as evidence,

in a case, misquoted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

December 17, 2014

 

 

There are Illusionist’s

with their vanishing act,

disappearing into thin air.

 

There are trapezist’s

on a high wire; no safety

net is there?

 

There are ventriloquists

with dummies, doing

things they shouldn’t ought!

 

There are jugglers

with their balls,

in sequence, being caught.

 

There’s a hamster

on a tread mill,

going like the clappers.

 

There are dancers

in a row, with

enormous flappers.

 

There are songbird’s

and doves, appearing

from each sleeve.

 

There are ladies

cut in half; a sight one

can’t believe!

 

There are men with

shiny shoes, especially

made for tappers.

 

There’s the pre-theatre

crowd, turned into

long-term nappers.

 

There’s the end of

the night, when the

applause never drops.

 

There’s the inevitable

encores, until the noise,

finally stops.

 

 

 

 

 

 

December 2, 2014

 

 

Haunted paths

of Christmas past,

and old romance

never meant to last.

 

Days of merriment,

and high jinx.

Thoughts drifting back

to that party minx.

 

When ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’

rang out through the air,

and the only place

to be, was there.

 

 

November 30, 2014

 

 

Why goad the one,

with your clenched fist,

who cannot see

through tears of mist?

 

Why force your power

onto one so weak?

Hold back your words:

Don’t even speak.

 

Why goad the one

who means you well,

with no hidden agenda,

or wares to sell?

 

Why not back down,

and compromise,

and see the joy

within their eyes.

 

Why goad the one

who cannot deliver?

Their Achilles heal,

shaking with a quiver.

 

Why start a dual, and be,

an unrepentant sinner?

When different worlds’ collide,

there can be no winner.

 

 

 

 

And the devil produced

a large iced bun,

in the hope, to temptation,

we would succumb.

 

And the nutritionist

said ‘Oh no, no, no!

All that fat and sugar

will have to go.

 

And the devil returned

with chocolate truffles,

to slow down our pace,

to lethargic shuffles.

 

And the wise nutritionist;

back in the race,

suggested fruit and pulses,

to increase our pace.

 

And the devil re-appeared

with his trump card,

of Jam Roly-Poly,

laced with artery-blocking lard.

 

And the frustrated nutritionist,

shook her head in despair,

whilst sitting alone, eating salad,

with sliced avocado pear.

 

And the devil, still taunting,

waved a chocolate digestive,

and a slab of stollen,

just to be festive.

 

And the food nutritionist

sank to her knees,

after eating a stick of celery,

with cottage cheese.

 

And the devil ate all the cream,

that had been left to curdle,

then collapsed and died

at the final hurdle.

 

And the smiling nutritionist,

with the race won,

sipped pomegranate juice,

to toast a job well done.

 

But the devil incarnate,

always waiting there;

tempting and goading,

the sweet-toothed unaware.

 

And the well meaning nutritionist,

raises her hands in admission:

She’s on a hiding to nothing,

on this hopeless mission.

 

 

 

 

 

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