Potshot… potshot… CLUSTERBOMB!

21 Oct

You snapped my finger
But it’s ok
Gave up piano when I was young

You punctured my lung
But I’ll be fine
I’ve got a spare in here somewhere

You broke my heart
I had just one
And now I’m gonna break yours…


In the back of my car

18 Oct

When times get tough
And the hounds are snapping
I’ll be napping
In the back of my car

There are people at work
And a million birds flapping
While I’m here napping
In the back of my car

It’s such a great feeling
I can hear the tyres squealing
I’m oblivious dreaming
In the back of my car

It’s time to wake up now
A traffic warden is tapping
I’ve got to stop napping
In the back of my car

It’s such a great feeling
Though a ticket’s not appealing
I’m oblivious dreaming
In the back of my car.

Unfinished Business – day 30 of NaPoWriMo

8 May

Detective John Bono was a little bit green
He flunked out of college with a bogus degree
The one thing he passed: Crime 101
Was enough to earn him a badge and a gun

Our young detective was first on the scene
There he was met by the maid Celestine
She had a fine reputation as a French domestic
And possessed other skills stereotypically gallic

The maid led the gumshoe to the body
Lying in a pool of blood in the lobby
When he saw the victim he started to panic
If the butler’d been done in the butler didn’t done it!

Bono was flustered by this revelation
Which flew in the face of his education
He put in a call to the forensics cops
But too late! Celestine had cleaned it all up!

The rookie went walking to clear his head
Suddenly – a scream! Another was dead!
The lord of the manor with a knife in his back
Lay testament to a fatal attack

Our detective was joined by his superiors
They looked at the victim with ‘oohs’ and ‘errs’
They couldn’t figure who’d turned up his toes
So they decided to give up and call the case closed.

Before leaving the house, Bono went up the stairs
To take care of pressing urinary affairs
Outside a door he heard a commotion
And entered to find there, locked in devotion…

Celestine and the butler – both red in the face
Discovered in their compromising embrace
Bono spotted the handy handcuffs
Snapping them on the butler before he got tough

Detective John Bono was the toast of the town
For sending the death-faking criminals down
The gumshoe’s dumb luck had allowed him to smash
Their plan to rob the Lord of life then his cash

I need to credit skat (though she might not want the credit having read it) as the idea behind this poem was her brain-child. I couldn’t let it go and I’m delighted to have completed another napowrimo, even though the quality has (once again) been decidedly suspect!

Statutory Right – napowrimo day 29

29 Apr
To whom it may concern
I’m sure that you’ll discern
A note of chagrin in this letter
I sincerely feel you can do better
Your products were low quality
Your service staff lacked jollity
When I asked to see the boss
He said he didn’t give a toss!
I’d like my money back
To make up for the lack
Of satisfaction that I got
I will be returning – NOT!

Take me to the bridge – for napowrimo day 28

28 Apr

The bridge
Is the bit
In the middle of the song
Where the music changes

The bridge
Is the bit
In the middle of the road
That goes over the river

The bridge
Is the bit
In the middle of my nose
I broke playing football

The bridge
Is the bit
In the middle of my life
Where I am right now


Don’t – hay(na)ku – for day 27 of napowrimo 2015

27 Apr

Ask me
I don’t dance

You dance
With your wife

Wild horses
Won’t drag me

Won’t you
Leave me alone

Go-go-Gadget Gloom! A persona poem for day 26 of napowrimo 2015

27 Apr

Go-go-Gadget Pen!
Here I go again
Trying to bare a soul
Churning in turmoil

I know my boss hates me
Chief Waldo Quimby
I’ll admit the odd mistake
But it’s time I had a break

I’m the joke of my family
My niece Penny especially
She’s such a know-it-all
And the dog’s no help at all

He and Penny solve each case
Leaving me with egg on face
They make me look so bad
I’m minded to join M.A.D.

Every single day
Life finds a way
To make me self-destruct
I’m well and truly… sad

So this is the end
My poem-reading friend
Life’s run out of juice
Go-go-Gadget Noose!

(cue hilarious scene as a rope extends out of Gadget’s hat, round a beam on the ceiling and down to the the floor where it loops around his ankle and hoists our hero upside-down in the air).


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