Friday 18 March 2011

THAT’S A RELIEF

I was arrested in my local paper shop today
And taken to the nearest station without delay
I had masturbated over a copy of the Beano
But as it was for Comic Relief the police let me go

Tuesday 1 March 2011

LEG MAN

It begins with a cursory glance
Long before the beguiling smile
Or the girlish giggle,
Or the flick of the head
That makes her hair dance
Somewhere between the appraisal of a shapely leg
And the curiosity of what lay hidden
And you are smitten
And while your defences are down
It tiptoes into your heart almost unnoticed
It whispers into your brain.
And touches your soul
Then you are in love
And lost to reason
All for the glance of a shapely leg

WAS IT DESTINY?

Was it destiny?
Or an act of providence
That wove the threads
On the eternal tapestry
What twist of fate?
What unseen hand
Rolled the fateful die
That moved us on our paths
What unseen gamer
Steered my avatar to yours
For what reason
Did the fates conspire?
To cross our paths
To bind our souls
What great celestial clock
Struck time
And brought us both to this place
To this time
To each other
Who must we thank?

BLACKBERRY CAT, RIP

BLACKBERRY CAT, RIP
BLACKBERRY 07/09/1991 to 04/11/2010

No more will I hear
Your most contented purr
That made you dribble on your fur
No more will I be greeted at the door
By your hello meow
No more will you pirouette around my feet
And perform your excited meal time dance
No more will you curl up on my lap
While I watch TV
No more will you curl up on the bed
When I go to sleep
Never again will I wake up
To hear your morning purr
For you have no more mornings
While you sleep your eternal sleep
You were more than a cat
You were a welcoming friend
A quiet companion
You were a constant
And I will miss you Blackberry

ANY OLD PORT IN A STORM

I was stranded and lonely with time to kill
And I was looking for someone to cure my ill
They told me about the only available “miss”
Who went by the unkind name of ugly Agnes
“Left on the shelf, plain as a pike as a staff”
“Facing the wall” he said followed by a laugh
I figured she’d be better than nothing at all
The girl left on the shelf, facing the wall
They gave me some direction to follow
Where I crept to and peeked in the window
I spied her in the candle lights flicker
Legs akimbo showing a glimpse of knicker
This old maid, who’d been left on the shelf
Was sat home alone pleasuring herself
There was nothing homely about this old maid
As she caressed herself and erotically played
And as I watched her deft self seduction
I was anxious to make my introduction
Outside I banged hard on the front door
Inside I banged her hard on the floor
But the savage and primeval union
Led to a more tender sensual communion
What had begun as “any old port in a storm”
Ended with me proud to stay till the dawn
Now I often get stranded with time to kill
And I know where to go to cure my ill
The local call her Ugly Agnes or Plain Jane
But I go to love her again and again

RMS TITANIC

The finest ship of the White Star Line,
Titanic majestically sailed the brine
A floating palace of opulence
A thing of beauty and elegance

But beauty is but a fragile veneer
And conceals a truth more austere
Into the depths Europe’s poor, are thrust
Travelling in steerage like human ballast

The iceberg cut her stem to stern
But at first no one showed concern
Except the poor below the waterline
Where it quickly filled with Icy brine

“Only God himself could sink her”
It was claimed by an unknown author
The Titanic promoted by J. Bruce Ismay
Quickly sank to his utter dismay

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

When we first started dating
I had no expectation of forever
I was content with the immediate
And enjoyed each moment with her
All the mundane chatter
And flirtatious wordplay
Leading to the longing looks
And the sentimental words of love
Back then time evaporated,
Hours seeming to pass in seconds
And in all those moments
Precluding our life together
The one thing we never had was silence

But that was then and this is now
And now the silence deafens me
No more chatter
Words are used miserly
As if endowed with great value
And not to be wasted
On flirtation or sentiment
Words, when used, now bite
With venomous spite
Moments now last an eternity
Clocks that once seemed to race through time
Run now in slow motion
Her contemptuous looks wither me
Longing now for my extinction

SEPARATE

Sleeping separate nights
Living separate days
We live separate lives
Let’s go our separate ways

ABIGAILS TALE - ONE DAY VERY SOON

In the comfort of the coffee shop
Nestled into a sofa
Sits Abigail, homesick and sad
As she reads a letter from home

She knows the sadness will pass
And sooner this time than the last
It strikes each time a letter arrives from home
With news from those she left behind

Her parents, loving and kind
Her sister annoyingly lovely
All her friends of long standing
And of course him

She left her home town
The only place she had ever lived
After her marriage failed
So she is building a new life

Away from the people and places
Away from all the familiarity
That reminded her daily
Of her failure and her inadequacies

So she lives in a new town
And is making new friends
Discovering new familiar places
And trying to forget past mistakes

She has joined a new church
Where her angels voice
Sings in praise to heaven
And she is finding peace within herself

One day very soon Abigail will sit
In the comfort of the coffee shop
Nestled into a sofa
And not be homesick and sad

One day very soon Abigail will read
A long letter from home
And smile at it contents
And not feel the old pain strike

One day very soon
Abigail will let herself be happy
One day very soon
Abigail will forgive herself

MORNING DELIVERY

The sun slips beyond the horizon
Like a letter slips into an envelope
Where it will stay until the dawn
When the envelope reopens
Spilling its contents into the sky
Brightening the world
Lifting the heart with its delivery
Like a missive from a loved one

TAKING OFFENCE

People are so easily offended today
This is quite ironic really
As due to political correctness
We are censored so heavily
And with all the sanitising
There is so little opportunity
But those who do take offence
Fall into three distinct categories

Firstly, the genuinely offended
Those who feel the detriment,
Whose opinion is seldom heard
Unless it’s politically expedient

Second, the white middle class heterosexuals
Who like to be offended on others behalf
And are particularly suspicious
At anything that gets a laugh

Thirdly, come the professionals
Those who get offended for a living
They frequent the morning TV sofas
And are relentlessly unforgiving

The professionals feel no offence
But find their roles financially fulfilling
They will take umbrage for anyone
Just to earn another shilling

Even worse however is anticipated offence
Those who want to act just in case
Some unspeakable offence may be caused
If things are unchanged or left in place

The original intention may well have been
That a better society was planned
But what they have managed to do instead
Is to make the world more bland

DEAR LOST AND FOUND

Dear lost and found
Can you please assist?
Lost – one heart
In poor general condition
Broken repeatedly
Repaired shoddily
(Too many times to count)
It is a good heart
Generous in proportion
True and steady
Not of fickle disposition
A trusting heart
A heart given freely
Last possessed by Julie
Heart was last seen
Being trodden underfoot
By previous keeper

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

You always feel like
A Sunflower amidst the Daffodils
A Thistle among the Tulips
Out of place, unsightly

You see yourself
As the ugly duckling
But who never transformed
Into the beautiful swan

You feel ugly and at odds
Ungainly and ungraceful
How wrong you are
To me you are perfection

You should feel like
You are a Rose amidst Cabbages
An Orchid among Daises
In pride of place, radiant

I see you as
The beautiful signet
Who was transformed
Into a beautiful graceful swan

That’s how I see you
An angel from the host
A goddess among mortals
Whom I shall forever worship

THE HOST OF STREET ANGELS

Spread the good news
By any means you choose
Pass on the news to all
Herald it with clarion call
And drummers drumming
The Street Angels are coming

A host of angels on the beat
Where the folk of Woking meet
Armed only with Gods light
To illuminate those in plight
But not to preach or evangelise
Nor to judge or chastise
But to listen with sympathetic ears
Offer a tissue to stem the tears
Have a Christian heart to care
And make a difference there

For road weary travellers
And over enthusiastic revellers
The intoxicated and the incapable
The distressed and the vulnerable
And for the impromptu shoeless
And the temporarily clueless
They have sensible Flip flops
And sugar boosting Lollipops

So spread the good news
By any means you choose
Pass on the news to all
Herald it with clarion call
And drummers drumming
The Street Angels are coming
And their blessed presence on the street
Shows that God is on his feet