Curtain Call
You’re filling the halls from the gods to the stalls,
You’re shaking the walls with your blast –
You cry your encores as you cheer yourselves hoarse
For the grand tour de force of the cast.
And how they deserve all the plaudits you serve,
For they are the verve of the play;
But spare just a few for their hard-working crew,
For we perform too, in our way.
Turner Churners
The critics will faun it, the Mail just loathes –
The public’s not stupid, it’s in on the deal –
We’ve always known it’s the emperor’s clothes,
It’s only the artists who think it’s for real.
And all’s just performance-ing art in the end,
These artists we hate yet adore:
That pompously-arrogant, smugly-camp blend –
Such wonderful caricature !
Silent Night
Dreams, come not and bother me tonight,
Tonight I have no time for dreams.
I am exhausted to the seams,
And need the dark to snuff the light.
So do not follow in my deep,
To make me cry or hope or leap.
Tonight, I only wish to lie –
So let me lie, and only dream of sleep.
A Masculine Rhyme
Positive charges
And negative spin,
Strong verbs and weak verbs
With preference baked-in.
Group B and Group 2
Subconsciously mocked –
Pejorative adjectives,
Loaded and cocked.
We’re judging the diff’rence
From concept to mouth,
And neutral assessment
Is all heading South.
Ah-wub-duh-dree-furr
This is the time of the viral star:
Of the unintended baritones,
Of sudden blasts on nose trombones,
And the throaty roar of bass catarrh !
The husky whisper strains with grief
To the beat of mints against the teeth.
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
‘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.
Rhyming Couplets 