Apoplexigraphy
‘Irregardless’ – I love it !
It drives the pedants wild !
A double-neg that disses regs –
A blithe, unruly child.
You know just what it means, admit it !,
For all you raise a stink –
And so we’re never gonna quit it,
Irregardless what you think.
Berlingo
Berlin – City of the english Language,
All Thanks to Hollywood and Touristdollars –
With bilingual Signs to ease our Angst and Anguish,
And fluent Secondtonguers and subconscious Scholars.
From Burntborough Square to Prince Elector Way
Welcome to Berlinnington-on-Spray.
Plenty to Crow About
I wonder why crows are never a pet ?
They’re stately and friendly – and clever ? You bet !
But less of a songbird, more of a gloater,
Less a soprano and more a deep-throater.
But let them by boastful, they’ve sure earned the right –
As bright as the day and as black as the night.
I wonder why crows are so out-of-favour ?
Always an omen, never a saviour,
Always a stranger and never a buddy,
Forever the raven’s understudy.
But crows are urban and on the rise
As bright as the streets and as black as the skies.
Three Minute Pop
Attention – this is a radio edit,
This is a cut-down and re-spliced precis,
This is an abstract for those who ain’t read it,
This is a digest, a brief prima facie.
Right about now there should be a solo,
Alas, this synopsis has run out of credit.
The next verse is missing – the hole in the polo –
For this résumé is a radio edit.
Oriental Droppings
Haikus – poems of failure –
Bitesize tweets of mental fluff.
Exotic in regalia,
Just self-congratulating puff.
Strangely obsessed with the weather,
And crushingly serene –
Thinking they’re oh-so-clever
For counting to seventeen.
Hashtag You’re It
Haikus: the tweets of poetry –
More like droppings, less like stray wit.
Vapid and vain, and mentally farted,
With nothing to say and urgent to say it
Haikus: puffed up vol-au-vents –
Finger food with little flavour.
We swallow them whole and move on to the next,
With nothing to chew and nothing to savour.
The Rover
If you find England is too small, my dear,
Then jump on my boat and I’ll sale you from here !
I’ll sail you to Russia, I’ll sail you to Spain,
I’ll sale you away from her beer and her rain.
But if in a day or a month or a year
You find that you’re missing her rain and her beer,
Well, I won’t be there, dear, to sail you back home –
For I’ll be in Oslo or Cairo or Rome.
