Preamble: for this week's Saturday Rhymers theme of "moving", just for FUN repeat FUN, here is my first attempt at a... well, you'll see.
Gotta keep on moving ‘cos it hurts to stand still.
Gotta weep in proving that my work’s not landfill,
Gotta seek to be outrageous ‘cos this weakness is contagious,
Gotta be a freak to speak out and break out of all these cages.
Saturday 8th December 2018 10:31 am
Preamble: for this week's Rhymers theme "first", here is my first attempt at a villanelle.
My son, it fell to you to be born first
You turned a couple into Mum and Dad
You sometimes had the best, sometimes the worst
You changed our lives when into them you burst,
And for that day I ever shall be glad,
My son, it fell to you to be born first.
Our parenting was w...
Saturday 1st December 2018 9:14 am
Preamble: my contribution to this week's Rhymers' theme "fire".
Wouldn’t it be easier to recognise a liar
If caught telling porkies, their pants really caught fire?
As a warped form of justice, it would be rather fun
To see a guilty con man get singed around the bum.
The value of honesty would rapidly be learned
If every untruth told led to buttocks getting burned.
Saturday 24th November 2018 9:42 am
Preamble: my contribution to this week's Saturday Rhymers theme - with apologies to anyone called Jack.
Men called Jack must always complain
About their name being taken in vain.
In language, literature, songs and nursery rhymes
The name “Jack” crops up time after time.
Whenever a male figure is expected
Chances are a character called “Jack” will be selected.
What have th...
Saturday 17th November 2018 8:31 am
For this week's Saturday Rhymers theme: Leaving Home.
When I go back and stay at my Dad’s place,
It’s great, but it’s no longer home.
I struggle to get my own kids off to sleep
In the room that I once called my own.
They watch cartoons, just as I did
Two sofas, three tellys ago.
So much is the same, yet so much has changed,
Though I try hard to not let i...
Saturday 10th November 2018 7:51 am
For a poem about motivation
I find myself lacking real inspiration.
After a period of procrastination
It’s become a source of great frustration.
Is this real artistic creation
Or just intellectual masturbation?
But following quiet contemplation
I had a sudden revelation:
What I am lacking is
Saturday 3rd November 2018 8:15 am
I like my music ANGRY. My favourite types of song
Are those that call for change, to try to right some wrongs.
I’ll take lyrics about war or peace or duty socially bound,
Over any heartfelt soulful dirge about love lost or found.
But it seems my favourite protest songs have limited success,
Judging by the fact the world is still in such a mess.
The answers blowing in the win...
Saturday 27th October 2018 8:14 am
Preamble: I wrote this shortly after my wedding 2 years ago, but never found the chance to perform it. I've revived it for today's Rhymers' theme of "weddings". It is a slam so it looks strange on paper, so I also made this video.
I have so many thanks to give for this special day!
First, the weather: my eternal gratitude to whichever Supreme Being or natural...
Saturday 13th October 2018 7:00 am
They say it’s class warfare, they say the rich have won
They don’t understand the hurly burly’s not done
Their smug sense of victory will be somewhat misplaced
It’s hard to be elite when the planet’s laid to waste
They plunder and they pillage and they take more than they need
They’re selling all our futures just to feed their selfish greed
They think they’re sitting pretty,...
Saturday 6th October 2018 12:18 pm
Preamble: In honour of this week's Rhymers' theme "children", here is a poem written in collaboration with my 7-year-old son.
Some people say they don’t like children
But they are wrong.
We aren’t the ones dropping the bombs.
We aren’t the ones firing the guns.
Children don’t kill other children.
The guy on the ground, he’s just doing as he’s told
The job that he’s paid f...
Saturday 29th September 2018 6:23 am
I walk up from the bus stop at the end of each weekday,
I know I’ll cause a ruckus, every step along the way.
One hundred yards, four houses, four front gardens, four closed gates,
Behind each one a canine sentinel does lie in wait.
To take this path I have to steel my nerves, or ears at least,
And take care not to get a scare from these four furry beasts.
Am I always to be hound...
Saturday 22nd September 2018 7:44 am