No-Fear Poetry
The old man dreamt of the lions
The lions dreamt of lunch
The old man liked lions well-caged
Those lions liked the old man a bunch
A bunch
Of lunch
On which
To munch
The old man owed much to the lions –
His whole career –
But he had a hunch
If the lions called in the debt
He’d be the original credit crunch
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Wax stick, with wick.
Gives light at night.
Put out with finger lick.
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Mary had a little lamb
‘Cause prices are so steep
She got it from a butcher
Averse to selling cheap
She cooked a feeble dinner
From that pathetic sheep
The moral of the story:
As ye shop, so shall ye reap
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In honour of yesterday’s UK Mothering Sunday, here’s a poem from my published collection, Hormoanal, describing pregnancy.
The world of litigation
Knows the worth of punctuation
Many a misplaced comma
Results in courtroom drama
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Let’s forget alternatives:
if it’s not one thing, it’s another.
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in my house – up the stairs – master bedroom – chest of drawers –
at the back – ‘neath the trash – I hide my special stash
my loved ones do not know
of when I feel the need to go
to my special secret place
grab my chocolates
stuff my face
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Ballot Disillusionment
Vote for a
man;
elect a thief.
Forgetful Old Age
Note for the
night:
eject the teeth.
An Englishman’s Castle
Moat round the
house
protects the weak.
Bridget Jones Knew It
Doting love
brings
you abject grief.
More Money Than Sense
Haute Couture
in
French Fashion Week.
Rural Idyll
Goats will roam
and
graze on the heath.
Gambling
Tote pays bills
when
the bet is won.
Questionable Taste
Mirrored walls
will
reflect the sun.
Personal Philosophy
Task for the
day:
have fun with puns.
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Today is Pi Day, celebrating mathematics. I suspect the day is American in origin because it plays on the date March 14th and not the 14th of March. We won’t say any more about that because, as my regular readers know, my head will explode.
In honour of Pi Day, I have posted these pikus (or piku; I’m not sure what the plural of piku is, as it’s a little used poetry form).
The piku is a blend of haiku and the first three numbers of pi:
Three lines
Eight syllables: 3-1-4
So, three syllables on the first line; one syllable on the second line; four syllables on the last line.
It doesn’t have to rhyme but you can write a chain of pikus as I have done here, and make them rhyme for fun. You don’t need to include individual titles, either; I have included them for clarity (aka: cheating).
If you fancy having a go, the easiest way is to write a prose sentence and then whittle it down to its bare essentials. Please do share in the comments if you try it.
By the way, anyone who says maths and poetry shouldn’t mix has clearly never read a Fibonacci poem. I’ll post one soon.
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my computer’s back
it was badly missed
I was champing at the bits
under anxiety attacks
became a dipsomaniac
for all my fluff
in files were stuffed
seething in the black
folders where they lie
waiting
pulsating
agitating to be heard
for even silly words
need liberating
from time to time
that’s why you get so many of mine
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Sorry I was gone so long. When computers die, a little piece of my soul goes with them (and a huge piece of my back catalogue: thankfully, all recovered).
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I’m not out of town:
my computer broke down
so my blog posts I’m shirking
while it’s not working.
Poetry Fluff 