20 May

Inspired by the ever-inspiring Crow

The bottle sat sealed
A passer-by in full flow glanced
Then comically reversed
To look askance

The bottle sat sealed
The passer-by surveyed to see
If others had observed his
Erstwhile trophy

The bottle sat sealed
The passer-by grew wide to hide
The prize from rival passing eyes
With jealous pride

No bottle sat sealed
The passer-by in full flow fled
Encumbered by suspicious bulge
He later was found dead.

Breaking Binary

18 May

Labelled when born
Before thoughts form
A he/she norm
Put in a box
Secure the locks
Blue or pink socks
Fight to break free
Instead, know ‘me’
You scared to try?
Not, what am I
But who and why?

Fun run

11 May

Warm sun above
Tarmac below…

Off we go’d

Down the road
Roared on by the crow-d
Bobbing along

No chatter or song
Passed the tongue

Of the forward-faced throng

While banners and boards

Were waved by the hoards
Whose fat-faced wards

Sticky sweets gnawed

Up hill


Running still

Feeling ill

Hot sun above

Hard road below

How far is there left to go?
I don’t know.

Dream Nonsense

5 May

I dreamt a famous poet
Came to teach me how to do it
He had a beard and he taught me how to rhyme
I learned all about meter
I think his name was Peter
And he charged me twenty stanzas for his time
But then when I awoke
The iambic spell was broke
I was left without a couplet or a verse
I had nothing left but prose,
Cramp in all my toes
And a mark-ed lack of stanzas in my purse

Mommy can we go to the graveyard?

4 May

Mommy won’t you take me to the graveyard?
Mommy can we go there soon?
I want to read the stones
Of the people who have gone
I want to find out how they wound up in their tomb

Mommy won’t you take me to the graveyard?
Mommy can we go today?
I want to smell the flowers
Watch the sad people for hours
I want to see all of their tributes on display

Mommy won’t you take me to the graveyard?
Mommy can we go tonight?
I want to see the ghosts
Of the semi-decomposed
I want to give myself a devil of a fright!

Darling don’t hurry to the graveyard
Darling you will be there soon enough
It’s not the kind of place
To which you really want to race
You should spend more time on living-people stuff.

Car Park Blues – Open Mic

1 May

For God’s sake, don’t listen to this

The crow made me do it!


30 Apr

For day 30 of napowrimo – translate a poem in another language. I’ve chosen to take some licence and modernise a Medieval English poem. The original is shown below my effort.

Happy am I while summer’s here
With its birdsong and sun
Until the fierce winds start to blow
And the weather takes a turn
I fear for when the nights are long
And all that’s good will seem as wrong
In the cold and bitter dark.

Mirie it is while sumer y-last
With fugheles son
Oc nu neheth windes blast
And weder strong.
Ei, ei! What this nicht is long
And ich with wel michel wrong
Soregh and murne and fast.


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