Category: Po-et-tree & Vurz

Karaoke Madness

I once had karaoke madness

That Japanese fad

I sung like a cat

I was really that bad

I thought I was Beyonce

Thought I was No.1

It was never going to happen

I was always going to bomb

All my friends were watching

And cringing quite a bit

And later on they told me

That I was really rather…

…not good at all

Karaoke madness

Made me want to run and hide

Made everyone go deaf

And really hurt my pride

Karaoke Madness

It got me in the end

Burned me more than once

Sent the crowd round the bend

From now on, I’ll value my fellow humans

And the ears in their head

I’ll stay away from karaoke

And sing in the bath instead.

He Chopped Off Her Head

(One of the writing prompts/exercises/homework for the poetry group I go to, was to write a ballad. So I wrote one).

Your eyes were like two pools of blue

Your hair as soft as silk

Your lips were like a red, red rose

Your skin as white as milk

I asked if you would walk with me

I asked you for your hand

You promised to love me true

I gave you a wedding band

And then we had some very good years

And I know that we did thrive

But one night you crept into my bed

And you were cold as ice

You had been out all night

And from your lips came lies

I found the man who stole your heart

The man who turned your head

I found the man who took my love

I found him in my bed

I loved you more than life itself

I loved you, oh so much

You have surely broken me

And now my mind is touched

I was enraged, I saw red

I just didn’t know what to do

I’m quite sure that I lost my head

Now you will lose yours too

I took an axe high in the air

In frenzy, I did swing

I chopped off your lovely head

And then took back my ring

And before he had a chance to run

I took him out as well

There was some blood, just a bit

Before his body fell

I burned the corpses that same night

And put your heads on stakes

And now you are together forever

And lots of love can make

And now I’ve found another love

Only now it’s me who’s blue

For I’m a rogue and a scroundrel you see

And I am never true

I wish and hope with all my heart

She’ll find me in our bed

With another, in adultery

And she’ll chop off my head

Possibility

The possibility of anything

Is never black or white

Many colours in the middle

Not just dark or light

The feasibility of something

That is the key

Mathematically, is it viable

How attainable will it be?

Some of us will go searching

In the dark, for years, we’ll grope

But what’s the probability

What’s the chance of hope?

Where’s the practicality

Of our most treasured goal

There is untold power

In the desire of our soul

You have to take part

Scientifically, that’s the case

Our odds do go up

When we take part in the race

Take the opportunity

When it comes near

Strengthen capability

Step up a gear

Fate and destiny

Will always play a part

If you’re spiritually minded

You’ll have a good head start

It’s really quite conceivable

Just between me and you

That, in eventuality

Your dreams can come true

Less Is More With You

I love you

Because you’re unexpected

Unpredictable

Just salty enough

Tangy enough

I spread you close

Lather you up

Against the butter

Against the toast

But not too much

Less is more with you

You come finely housed in curvaceous glass

Not everyone likes you

But if they like you, they love you

And if they don’t like you, they hate you

And can’t stand the smell of you

Let alone eat you

Some people are taken in by your cunning disguise

They see you all brown and sticky and gooey and think

you are a chocolate spread

And then they eat you, one big mouthful

You’re a nice surprise or a nasty shock

Depending on your outlook and tastebuds

I once was a little frightened of you

And once, I hated you.

But now, I love you, Marmite.

Hope Is Long

Hope is long

When you’re born.

It’s longer than a cold, cold night

And keeps you nice and warm

Hope is deep

When you take your first step

It goes up past your waist

Gets your ears wet

When you go to school

Hope trails right behind

Sometimes tangles up

But is always there to find

And when you are a teenager

And school is done

Hope becomes a lasso

To catch the sun

And in your twenties

There’s nothing you can’t do

Hope is like a coat

That looks really good on you

And as the years go by

And your youth, it flies away

Your hope becomes a friend

That you cling to every day

And you take life’s knocks

The bores and the thrills

The birthday cards stop coming

And you’re left with all the bills

And that door that is closing

Is getting harder to push

The dreams have all grown up

And they don’t come and visit as much

And you’re standing there one day

And you suddenly start to think

What happened to your hope?

Is it beginning to shrink?

It’s no longer dancing

Bright eyed and bushy tailed

Shorter than an ankle sock

And looking rather pale

You can’t wrap it around anywhere

It’s not flexible or strong

In fact, it’s disappearing

Where did it all wrong?

One day you look around you

And hope has surely gone

It either ran off with the milkman

Or hitchhiked further on

So now, you have no option

There’s only one thing left to do

You must create some new hope

And forget the one that flew

No time to waste – just time to sit

To mend and stitch and sew

And knit yourself a new hope

That will never ever go.

The Time I Got Lost

I’m standing by the sweets

And I shuffle on my feets

Now I see that mum was right

When we got into a fight

About how much they cost

The time I got lost

I think I might just sit

I’m not brave a bit

I’m in such a fix

‘cos I’m only six

(well, five and a half)

My tummy is in knots

The time I got lost

I wish that people cared

Now I’m getting scared

The cleaner pushed his mop

I couldn’t make him stop

And I got sploshed

The time I got lost

Corridors of food

But I wasn’t in the mood

Normally I like cheeses

But I am by the freezers

I’m afraid I’m going to cry

Frozen fish with one big eye

I’m in the ice caps of Iceland

Oh, why’d I let go her hand?

I fell down on my knees

Won’t someone help me please?

I was truly in the frost

The day I got lost.

And out among the toys

There were only naughty boys

And dinosaurs that roared

and trolls that made me bored

With goo dripping from his fangs

The monster – there, he hangs!

He thought he was the boss

The time I got lost

And now she runs towards me

Oh, look, it’s mummy

All she does is grins

My world no longer spins

So afraid I thought I’d be

That I did a little wee

But now I am found

I’ll soon be homeward bound

And all is not lost

The time I got lost.

I Love little Furry Things

I love little furry things

that whizz across the floor

That no one can identify

It makes me love them more

And if they have long tails

It doesn’t induce fright

And if they have big whiskers

It fills me with delight

I love little furry things

anything rodent shaped

That might crawl up your leg

And make the faint heart faint

I just don’t get it

Why are we scared of them?

They’re soft and they are fuzzy

From where did our fears stem?

Why do they scare the elephant

When it is so big?

Why do they scare the human race

When they’re the size of a small wig?

Oh, I love little furry things

That dart across the floor

It’s true, they nibble a lot

But they don’t shout or roar

I love little furry things

That get eaten by cats

They’re much smaller than us

So don’t kill them in traps

So, the moral of this story stands

Well, there is no moral really

Just be kind to those of us

Who are small and cute and furry.

 

My Pixie Boots

At my local Writers Group, part of the session involves an improvised writing exercise. We are given a writing prompt and then we have approximately ten minutes to write something and then have to read it out. Last time, we had to write a poem or story on boots or shoes, that were important to us in some way.  I’m in awe of people who can write improvised poems, or indeed any creative writing that is ‘off the cuff’ and under pressure. Also, people who can just take out a notepad on the bus and start writing. I normally need a good comfort zone and lots of time to write, with no time limits or restrictions. I’ve done improv acting but never impro writing, until lately. I’m learning in that sphere and it’s interesting. Didn’t know I had it in me to be spontaneous.  It’s scary but I think practice is the key.  If you keep doing something, you get better at it and one day, hopefully, it’s not scary at all. So here’s an impro writing exercise I did on boots. My first ever impro poem!

 

Pixie Boots

I am but a thimbleful

I roam in strange hours

I sip from buttercups

And abseil from flowers

I climb to the top

Of the ivy on the wall

There’s not many pixies

Who can do that at all

I saddle a slug

And we ride the soil

Jump over cabbages

It’s not much of a toil

I’ve not lost a feather

I’m full of spice and pep

My pixie boots

Have lots of mileage yet

And when the sun is tired

And I feel sleepy too

I snuggle in the moss

And say goodnight to you.

 

 

 

 

Autumn Tints

She’s just slipping into

her sophisticated gown

It fits like a glove

Lays a train all around

The neckline is green

And the colours on the bust

Are chestnut, coffee, hazel

Auburn, tawny, rust.

We see the seasons fashions

Start to unfold

The waistline is burnt orange

The skirt is copper gold

The hemline is yellow

With warm and earthy tones

Embellished and bedecked

With pink and purple stones

Now she’s dancing on the ground

And it is her sole duty

To be the belle of the ball

This graceful autumn beauty