A Reason to Stay away from Carling

(Or to drink more of it. You’re call.)

I found Jesus. He was in my Carling
He’s such a perfect little darling
He was in the blue dress
The one he always wears
And a look from those eyes took away my day’s cares

I found Jesus he was in my Carling
Such a sweet self-righteous darling
He told me I shouldn’t
When I knew I should
He said we weren’t allowed – I said now we could!

I found Jesus he was in my Carling
But it grates to spend time with such a sweet little darling
I was a bit annoyed
When he decided to amble
Across my G & T in his dirty sandals

And I soon tired
Of that warm lamb-like stare
He kept telling me stories
To write down and share
I couldn’t say
Look sorry Jesus…I don’t actually care

I found Jesus, he was in my Carling
He’s so bloody sweet and such a darling
But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t
Felt a little bit better
When he hopped onto the next table
Into somebody’s Stella…

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Frank’s Poem – Whispers

word 21 donated by Frank Richards

You stormed in
And wrecked my pavements
While I listened
To those whispers
Of escape
In your eyes
When will what is mine
Come back to me?
As that swift light
Sweeps the days across the green
Clouds hold fast despite rain
I picked these flowers for you
And on your return
They will turn to the sun
And close their eyes

Wai’s Poem II – Shadow

word 20 donated by Wai Fun Soo

I will drink in
wordless joy of sunlight in cities
I will touch nothing
At the heart of something

I will sing in flickering silence
dance through windswept stillness

I will be held in arms
I will write sonnets
I will cry and be comforted
I will climb

I will run
As fast as legs will carry
I will dream in candle lit breaths

I will hold hands
Read poetry out loud
Pour my heart into bowls
Share secrets
Be proud
I will move

I will stretch to hear words from the sky
Ache
Catch cold raindrops from clouds

I will indulge in senseless elation
Because it made sense at the time
I will feel safe
I will know that life falls
like sheets from windows

And as the world grows about me
I will lose myself
I will be caught on claws
I will be frightened
Shamed, broken, left behind
But clear a path to find my way again
I will live other lifetimes
I will learn, let go
I will be picked up, spun around
And kissed

I will cry for beauty
I will shout to the silence
And in my fury catch its voiceless reply
I will expire with thanks on my lips

And as fast as I run
You will be my every step

Oh that you were not only a shadow

Anon’s Poem – Parsnip

Word-a-day 14 donated by Anon/a parsnip
A Parsnip Tragedy! No issues whatever writing this. I got interrupted and added the second ‘chapter’ later on. But you can enjoy the first on its own.  I wanted to examine an issue but was sick of being so starkly miserable about it all the time. So here we have it. The sad slimy fate of the Parsnip. Enjoy.

1

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the ground
And in the muck
It wasn’t very comfortable
So I tried to dig it up

But I didn’t have the tools
You can’t help me honey
You got to follow rules

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the ground
And in the dirt
It wasn’t very comfortable
I guess it must have hurt

It wasn’t very cheerful
Even with me around
All I could hear was wind and sun
And a painful growing sound

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the ground
And in the earth

It wasn’t very comfortable
I guess it’s been that way since birth

It wasn’t very happy
Even with carrot’s company
It wasn’t pleased
With the potatoes
Didn’t like they way they teased
And as for those cabbages
Well they held a full revolt
And on first sight of me’ the parsnip said
they all set seed and bolt
And as for the sweet flowers
On those sweet looking garden peas
Well the things they say they’d bring me (if I had them) to my knees

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the earth
And muddy black
I couldn’t get it out of there
For fear that it might snap

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the ground
In front of me
How I wish I could pick that parsnip out
And take it home for tea

***

2

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the earth
And in the dust
I know that it was silly
But I think I fell in love
I tried to talk it round but no
Leave me be!‘ the root insisted
And as I watched the parsnip grew
Old bitter dry and twisted

There was a parsnip
It was stuck
In the earth
And in the clay
And as the parsnip turned to muck

I could only walk away

Abdullah’s Poem – Being

8th Word-a-day donated by Muhammad Abdullah Hamzah
My Sense of Being

I have a sense of being
Sadly taken ill
So I leave it in the sunshine
Right on my windowsill
I feed it milk and chicken soup
I hear it makes things better
It’s not allowed outside without
A great big itchy sweater
It always takes its medicine
And gets a good night’s sleep
I make sure it always wears clean socks
And its bedroom’s nice and neat

But after weeks of trying
My sense of being’s still quite sick
I hope that it’s not dying
My chicken soup won’t do the trick
I had a sense of being
But now its lost its sense of smell
I can tell you my sense of being
Still isn’t very well

I have a sense of being
But I awoke to find one morning
My sense had already woken up
While I was still there yawning
It was running round the landing
And climbing on the stairs
Hiding in the cupboards
And jumping on the chairs
It was drinking all the cola
And eating all the fruit
It was playing with the sat-nav
And planning out a route
At this point I had to intervene
Because I found it too bizarre
When my sense of being stole my keys
And tried to nick my car

I have a sense of being
It’s really part of me
But sometimes me and being
Don’t get on too well – you see?

I have a sense of being
But it had a ‘”nasty fall
And I can tell you my sense of being
Isn’t doing well at all

Dan’s Poem – Salad

5th Word-a-day donated by Dan Helgi í Gong
The Evil Salad – ‘Never Turn Your Back on a Salad’

 

Next time you eat some salad

Make sure you don’t turn your back

You might just find yourself

Under unprovoked attack

One day when sat with my bowl of leaves
Though you might find it hard to believe
I can assure you it wasn’t in my mind
My salad was being unjustly unkind
The chicory couldn’t speak without swearing
The endive insulted the clothes I was wearing
The iceberg was just acting cold and uncaring
And as for the raddichio
He was quite bitter
And the baby gem said ‘Oi ugly! How come you’re not fitter!?’
And I don’t even think a good mind should know
What filth arose from the head of the lollo rosso
I was hassled by the swiss chard
Called names by the romaine
The lambs lettuce baa-ed
And the batavia was a pain
The celery’s input made me blanch
The olives did not extend a branch
The rocket exploded with unhelpful intrusions
The spinach made scathing and hurtful allusions
(And let me take this chance to digress
I overheard the watercress
Persuading the baby leaves to undress)

Eventually I threw the lot away
I never liked salad anyway

Mai’s Poem – Mermaid

1st Word-a-day donated by Mayuko Iriyama

I have a friend
Who has a fishtail for legs
It’s a massive inconvenience down at Tesco’s
And she gets quite
Squeamish
At the fish counter.

When we go shopping she doesn’t normally opt for heels
And she can never get jeans that fit

She prefers calamari
to cod and chips

If I’m feeling particularly mean
I push her over and run
I know it’s a cheap shot
And it makes her self conscious
But she always wins in the 100 metre front crawl.

And even though I think it’s odd
The boys seem to like the whole shell-bra thing.