Poetry

Mine, and occasionally others'.

A Warm Hand

I wanted to clap at the funeral today
But I think that is seen as poor taste
I longed to applaud such a brilliant speech
But I feared it would seem out of place

I wanted to shout 'Hear! Hear!' when you said
Deceased was a wonderful chap
The whole of me knew this was so very true
I was craving to let out a clap

Revise the System

Work hard, be conscientious, be afraid
Your life won't be worth living if you fail
The only thing that matters is your grade

Feel guilty for each error you have made
Learn quotes by rote and don't stop to exhale
Work hard, be conscientious, be afraid

Of falling short of A-star accolade
Don't eat, don't sleep, travail your skin to pale
The only thing that matters is your grade

This Table Is Reserved

This table is reserved for The Poetry
for this pub and for all who sail on it
A villanelle, pantoum or ballad
or free verse, sestina or sonnet

It's not for a hen night or party
but for words that take note of the times
It's not trying to sell you a dinner
it is ticking out meter and rhyme

Product Displacement

I peeled back the adverts and found
a beautiful town

Waiting at the bus stop
I stilled the rotating displays
and pasted timetables and useful information
in their place

I restored all the lamp posts
to their role as posts bearing lamps
rather than gallows
from which buy-me banners hang

The Subaltern's Swansong

- a rewrite of John Betjeman's The Subaltern's Love Song 

Young Duncan H Dunn was the subaltern's son
Born then withdrawn when the courting was won
Conceived in the back of the subaltern's car
His dad had not planned on it going so far

Hot Flush

by Donna How-I'm-Gonna-Cope-Come Summer

Sittin' here sweatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for my temperature to fall
Tried about a thousand remedies lately
Want to bash my head on the wall

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