Memories of a Lost Love

Drunken, excitable stranger,
We met in the light of the fridge.
You had toast, and you wanted some butter,
Said you only needed a smidge.

The hours wear on and you chatter,
You paint an inch thick as you sing,
Bottle-tanned, smooth-skinned and fleshbare,
To attract what the evening may bring.

Elated, you tumble to taxi,
To the buzz of the evening you charge,
And all that is left is my memory of you,
And the crumbs that you left in the marge.

The Never-Exploding Time Bomb

It sits there, on the mantelpiece, so innocent to see,
As voices fade it fills the space where silence ought to be.
Incessant futile panic that the Gods can't comprehend,
This ticking clock is going to drive me round the fucking bend.

The Lapse of Label-Reading, an Avaricious Folly

Emancipated vegan,
Tumble-heeled and beamish
At the thought of dairy creamish chocolate mousse.
A promise can so easily seduce.

Deliciously it rests upon the table,
A careless glance is tossed toward the label,
Cocoa, cream... and porcine hoof secretions.

Illusion's tower topples,
Smashes swift to bones upon the ground,
A sick sensation sorrowful surrounds.

Emancipated vegan,
"If pride, then downfall" is the arrowed phrase,
Forever humbly shall I look into a swinish gaze.

The Pencil Case

or
"The Gift of Getting One's Shit Together, on the Smallest Scale"

A pencil case,
My soul's embrace,
A splintered jumble to replace,
My heart abeat at happy pace,
Such order now, where once disgrace.

At Last, a Use for Prunes

"Those things that once were plums, my dear,"
She said with startling candor,
"Stuck to marshmallow, a la ears,
Make for a tasty panda."

My life's so empty.

I's got wellies, can you see?
There are no nicer boots than these,
"Splish splosh" I go in rain and snow...
I's got wellies, don'tchaknow.

Ideal State? Ideal Heap of Pants More Like.

Plato, Plato, baked potato,
Tell me of your ideal state-o,
Everyone in every 'hood,
Toiling for the common good.

Plato, Plato, baked potato,
Class determined just by fate-o,
Guardians are trained to rule,
Producers faff about with tools.

Plato, Plato, baked potato,
Soldiers get their choice of mate-o,
Babies taken from their mother,
Everyone's eachother's brother.

Plato, Plato, baked potato,
Tell me of your ideal state-o,
You might think it's just and well,
But to me it looks like Hell.
You might think you've found the virtues,
But it just makes me want to hurt you.

If I weren't so confined by poetical strictures,
My words could paint the most wonderful pictures,
But stuck as I am inside rhythm and metre,
The picture's made worse but the verse is made neater.

Elephants

The quiet pachidermal bliss
Of trunky hug and trunky kiss.

Hello Rar I am a Lyen

Hello rar I am a lyen,
I'm not too scary, though I'm tryin',
So if you see me, please run and hide,
And I'll be the Cool Cat in my pride :o3

In Which Our Hero Attempts to Write Poetry, and It All Goes a Bit Pete Tong.

I'm going to write a poem,
It's a poem about __ (blank).
It doesn't have a subject,
So I s'pose it's a bit wank.

I'm pressing on regardless,
As I feel I ought to write,
Though it's rather turning out to be,
A festering pile of __ (blank).

Real and proper poets,
Don't leave gaps where words should be,
Except when gaps are comical,
Like the one up there ^ might be.

If I pretend that was deliberate,
I could be a poet after all,
Except in the last stanza I rhymed 'be' with 'be',
And now I've cunted up my metre,
So it's all gone a bit fail again.

The Call of the Geese

Hello honk I am a geese,
I like to swim in cooking grease.
If you touch my feathered crease,
You'll catch my sexy geese disease.

Ballad of the Nowl

Hello twoot I am a nowl,
For mices I am on the prowl.
All through the night I flap about,
Seeking tasty mices out.
Whate'er the weather, I shall scout,
But if it rains I'll need a towel.

Dux

Hello quack I am a dux,
My silky feathers are deluxe.



... Would you like a fux?

Vulgar Anatomical Ditty, Generously Expoused

A is for anus, the hole in the
Bum, which is B, and is fancied by some.
C is for collarbone, linked to the neck,
D is for duodenum and "Dude, what the heck?"
E is for eyes to see all that is ace,
F is for filtrum, so shush up your face.
G is for gastrointestinal system,
H is for hands used to type out this poem.
I is for intellect, clever and smart,
J is for jodhpurs containing a fart.
K is for keratin, substance of nails,
L is for labia covered in snails.
M is for midriff now I'm mid-way through,
N is for nostrils for smelling a poo.
O's for an orifice I'll leave unnamed,
P is for puppies that cannot be tamed.
Q is for quite a nice fanny or cock,
R is for rubbing it off in a sock.
S is for sternum, the bone of the breast,
T is for toesies, you cannot contest.
U is for very rude understair parts,
V is for vulva where ladywanks start.
W is for willies and fucks up my metre,
X is for xylophone, played by a cheetah.
Y is for "Yakminge, I've drifted off task,"
And Z's for a zebra who's wearing a mask.

Ode to a Hairband

I'm enthusiastic,
Not being sarcastic,
My hair looks fantastic,
All thanks to elastic.

The Totally Bitchin' Rap of the Comma

C to the O to the M-M-izzle,
Carving you up with my grammatical chisel,
Sitting on the bottom of the line...
I make you pause for quite some time.
Clauses in a sentence I can separate,
I'm small so if you miss me you can add me in late,
I can separate the items of a list...
Bow to the might of my grammatical fist.