Archive | May, 2013

My daughter is the evillest thing

14 May

My daughter is the evillest thing
In the whole wide world
She seems as lovely as a flower
But the devil’s in that girl

Others she charms and spins around
Her eleven-year old finger
But to me she is a nemesis
A pain and trouble-bringer

I drive my daughter to a gym
She trains with a gymnastic bunch
And how does she repay me?
With punch after punch after punch

And I can’t get her back because
I’m busy driving the car
Which shows you just how devious
Her devious evils are

When she has big bags of sweets
She never gives me one
But whenever I buy myself a treat
A turn my back – it’s gone!

And if she ever saw this poem
Far from being forgiving
She’d wait ’til no-one was around
And my life would be not worth living

There is one thing that gives me hope
A beacon in all this strife
I may have the evillest daughter
But at least she’s not my wife!

 

Although this is written with affectionate tongue in my cheek (that just doesn’t sound right), there is more than a grain of truth and suffering there.

Self-service Savvy

13 May

I am the king of the bagging area
Your help is not required
Unless I’m buying a security-tagged item
And sometimes when I’m tired.

You should go and stock some shelves
I think you’ve run out of bread
There’s nothing more annoying than looking for wholemeal
And having to buy white instead.

Just leave me here, I’ll be ok
I’m more than capable
I didn’t get where I am today
By being unable to work a till.

Excuse me there, I need some help
This self-service thing’s a joke
Why can’t we just be served by people?
Don’t fix it if it ain’t broke.

Turquoise

4 May

Is it blue or green
Is it somewhere in between
No, it is turquoise

Is it him or me
Is it somewhere in between
No, I want it all

Are you good or bad
Are you somewhere in between
Because it’s hurting

Remember national poetry writing month? Seems so long ago already. Well this is my rebelliously belated entry for day 28.

Tiger, Tiger – a poem refracted

1 May

I’m glad napowrimo is over – I was becoming less and less inspired by the prompts. However, there is still unfinished business and my feeble attempt at day 30’s task is below. It’s based – as if you needed telling – on Blake’s ‘Tyger, Tyger’ and isn’t so much an opposites poem as a poem refracted.

Tiger, Tiger, fading pale
On the urban morning trail
What soon-dying foot or face
Sticks out weird and out of place

On which shallow puddles goes
The clouded dimness of your nose
In whose arms fear hopelessness
Where the wing fear grasp the ice

And which elbow, and which science,
Couldn’t untie the saggy part
And when your heart ceased to bump
What a lovely knee? And what a lovely rump?

Where the nail? Where the cog?
In what fridge did I put the dog?
What the hammer? What nice grip?
Fear it’s lovely pleasures slip?

When the planets picked up their phials
And warm’d earth with their smiles
He did frown his leisure to hear?
He did who made the deaf mute ear?

Tiger, Tiger, fading pale
On the urban morning trail
What soon-dying foot or face
Sticks out weird and out of place