All Hallows Day

hell
Relaxing in Hell by DisneyPsycho

All Hallows Day

I wonder what the First of November is like
In the depths of Hell ?
A day, perhaps, when demons all go on strike
And stay in their shell –
A lazy morning, then walking the three-headed dogs
And feeding the trolls,
Or taking the chance to restock the brimstone logs
And polish the skulls.
Packing the trident away along with the horns
For the rest of the year,
And binging on soaps with the grandkid-demonspawns
And an ice-cold beer.
And somewhere, in some office, some poor devil
Stares at a screen,
And starts to draw up plans at the management level
For next Halloween.

Apoplexigraphy

pedant

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

several gift cards
Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com

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

crow

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

black and grey vinyl record
Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

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

Hard Candy by Russell Mackensen

Oriental Droppings

Haikus – poems of failure –
Pintsize 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.

Yes, that’s right, I said haikus with a pluralising S. If this upsets you, you need to stop speaking English altogether.

Strange Bedfellows

white and black mattress fronting the mountain
Photo by wayX on Pexels.com

Strange Bedfellows

I know the temptation – any stick to diss them,
Any ally welcome, any grudge a friend –
Any note of caution is abject criticism,
Any mediation is weakness to the trend.
But surely we are judged by the company we keep,
Regardless why we keep such clientele –
The rival of my enemy might sometimes be a creep
Who should really be my enemy as well.
Real politic with an opportune autocracy
Is just another way to say hypocrisy.

The Rover

spring east
Spring East by Tony Lombardo

The Rover

If you find England is too small, my dear,
Then jump on my boat and I’ll sail you from here !
I’ll sail you to Russia, I’ll sail you to Spain,
I’ll sail 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.

The Waters of the Flood were upon the Earth

noah's ark
Noah’s Ark in the Storm by myjavier007

The Waters of the Flood were upon the Earth

Noah, lonely and bereft,
Cast adrift with wives and sons.
Of other folk, no more are left –
These are the only ones.

But lo !,  across the waves and foam
Comes sailing forth on breezes fresh
A vessel very like his own –
The Ark of Gilgamesh !

This is an early poem of mine that features my patented exclamation comma (!,) which one day shall be combined into a single glyph to rule them all…Incidentally, my older self cringes at my rookie mistake of placing Gilgamesh himself in the other Arc when of course it was piloted by Utnapishtim.  However, despite this, it remains the only poem of mine to ever earn me an income (£10), as recounted in the footnote to this poem.