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Malpoet

Updated: Mon, 5 Jul 2010 11:00 pm

malpoet@hotmail.co.uk

Contact via WOL

Biography

Google Malpoet and follow the links. I live in Wirral, Merseyside and go to poetry events in the north west. The Dead Good Poets in Liverpool on the first Wednesday is an excellent one, but better still come to one of the many on the Wirral. Lots more of me and my poetry on the web. http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/profile.php?id=570784383&ref=name Your comments, questions and critiques are very welcome.

Samples

Great War Grandfathers Existing only as a line on a memorial, I know only he is gone, not how he lived. A body lost in endless trenches, filled with wasted youth. His nation needed HIM to be torn from his family to a far off war and a forgotten death. His blood mingling with those murdered at dawn by their own side, in front of the same trenches. Too frail to fight, Baker was a butler. Serving salmon on silver to the families of heroes who shot the 'coward' youths before their trembling comrades. An honourable war, being a gentleman to the gentlemen. Bobbing and Peering The street is lined with pretty girls, in micro skirts and cheeky curls. They look at every passing car. Bobbing and peering. Behind them lurk their pimping men. Waiting 'til they've scored, and then, seizing all their paltry gains. Far from endearing. Suited men in lavish cars, cruise around by seedy bars. Eying up each girl in turn. Drooling and leering. He cranes his head in semi dark. Selecting one before the park. Clipping kerb as he pulls up. Rocking the steering. They talk about the business deal. What she'll do, and how he'll feel. Happily they set the price. Laughing and cheering. Short journey to a lonely plot. He pays, and strips her on the spot. She rapidly begins the job. Bucking and rearing. It's over, in a sudden flash. He's angry at his waste of cash, and grabs her by the throat. Cringing and fearing. Blind with rage, he grabs his knife. He screams that she wil lose her life, and lunges viciously. Cutting and searing. In pain and choking, dripping blood, he kicks her out onto the mud, then drives away as she cries out. Fading from hearing. She's found and then identified. A few regret that she has died. They come to say their last farewell. Sadly revering. The punter has his day in court, regretting only that he's caught. Claims he's blameless, not his fault. Lying and sneering. The judge who sends him down for life, expresses sadness for his wife. As crowds outside, bay for his blood. Taunting and jeering. The girls are still along the street, standing at their usual beat. Working as they always did. Bobbing and peering. Dad Those feeble, ulcerated legs which cannot support your shrunken body are the powerful pistons that drove your heavy old bike to work. Your faltering, tearful voice speaks, but your bellows echo down the years. "Look at that silly tit over there" A nurse smiles back from her patient labour. "No bloody rabbit food or foreign muck for me" You eat the steamed fish and salad in a plastic dish. All politeness and compliance to the faces of black doctors and staff serving food you would have thrown in mum's face. "Want a new suit boy?" You grinned as you came in from the betting shop. "STAND STILL! Too late it's in the tree." Your pigeons were a fascination, but a terror too. Excited by you clocking the winning bird, and knowing that a loser would be my fault. "Bloody Arabs 'll cut your throat as soon as look at ya." The ranted bigotry lived on fifty years after a brief military encampment in wartime Egypt. "What have you done with my bloody glasses?" You squinted at the racing pages and clutched for the telephone as the horses lined up for the start. "No pay today gal." You mumbled as you came in from the betting shop. "He's got the darkies disease he has. Bloody idle." Revolting insult thrown at a black youth on the TV without bothering to listen why he was there. "Get 'em a cup o' tea gal." The command shouted from an armchair in front of the television made a visit feel an imposition. Glimpses of an intelligence sometimes shone through from your limited and distorted world. Off to work before I got up for school. Back from the pub after I was in bed. I knew you were home when I woke to the shouting downstairs. In your eighty fourth year you told me that seventy five would have been enough. My stomach knotted. Shame I never knew you. I am curious now you are dead. Original Sin Through coition came cognition, so we're told. From serpentine perdition, to the eve of our condition, is a line of pulchritude. The serpent was lascivious. Tempting Eve to coitus, by offering an apple to consume. His squirming, so voluptuous, slithering, conceptuous, lured her to perfidy and sin. From thus, homo erectus was hetero in his genius, until, through nostra damus, came il papa's mighty plan. By immaculate deception, came the godhead to reception as a naked babe in straw. Lacking sign of all suspicion, or hint of malefaction, the lord had sired offspring, but no genitals engorged. Through countless generation, from Adam and creation, had the genesis of humankind been drawn. By fervent copulation, foregoing masturbation, the race had been expanded and preserved. In coitus emeritus, no interruption hindered us and life was passed by orgasmagic down. From primeval broth evolving, through complex myths contriving, the human creature comes to speculate. No! It surely is apparent, that our knowing was descendant, and did not come from falling to a snake. All the love and joy in breeding, should be guiltless, not conceding any merit to the fantasists of god. Deus non magnificat, and coitus cum laude. Shagging is not sinful, but bonding beautiful. Piggy Belle is Dead Weather Pig sways lazily, peering from the roof. He stares at windy Wales with teardrops in his eyes. Of course he faces windward as he does throughout the year, but now his task is tearful. Piggy Belle is dead. Guard Pig lies at duty by the front door, as he must. His task to pee on Mormons, bite balls off burglar thugs. He is is lax about his duties, though always at his post. Today he glares with sadness, for Piggy Belle is dead. Piggy Ornamental has no job to do at all. She is just bronzed off with life today and yesterday as well. Her empty life is emptier, so decorously sad, Pigginess is lesser now, 'cos Piggy Belle is dead. All the piggy presences in Malpoet's grand estate, grieve the porcine paucity, end of the Belle Epoche. For years she hung out prettily. She called at dinner time. If needed on the telephone, she let me know in time. The constant task was arduous as was time and weather toll. Poor Piggy Belle has fallen now None more shall hear her call. How sad I was when I was told, she'd tolled her final toll. The porky rites at last are said. Piggy Belle is dead.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Audio entries by Malpoet

That'll Cost You the Kettle (20/05/2016)

Boring (21/03/2009)

Australian Wedding (17/02/2009)

Anno Domini (17/02/2009)

Andy (17/02/2009)

Alone In The Garden (16/02/2009)

Ali (16/02/2009)

A Good Age (16/02/2009)

Agadir (16/02/2009)

A Day At The Circus (14/02/2009)

More audio from Malpoet…

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Comments

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Chris Dawson

Fri 2nd Jul 2010 16:59

Now there's handsome!
Jx

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Chris Dawson

Fri 2nd Jul 2010 16:41

Well I can only apologise for having misunderstood your poem, and for completely missing the re-cycling tray - all is clear now.
And as for the picture - I have seen some very pleasant ones of you ... and if you're going to have one that makes you look like something barking - perhaps Pekinese is not your best look? ... get yourself a brandy and you'll look a lot more saintly, Bernard!
:)
Jx

<Deleted User> (7164)

Thu 1st Jul 2010 08:34

Hi Mal, thank you very much for your comment on 'Tiptoe through the tulips.'
Very much appreciated,
Janet.x

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kealan coady

Sat 19th Dec 2009 12:48

Thanks for the comments, much appreciated and looking forward to hearing more from ya.

<Deleted User> (5593)

Tue 8th Dec 2009 21:39

I'm sure Moxy did!

<Deleted User> (5593)

Tue 8th Dec 2009 21:15

Thank you Malcolm, I think you mean Shitsville's too good for me!

Loved the Tyger rip off - very funny.

<Deleted User> (7790)

Sun 26th Apr 2009 10:44

'avioswineproof bivouacs with perspicacious windows for them to look out on the world.' I'm on the case. Patent's just been applied for, am looking at mulched bank-note papier mache life casts they can trot around in (photo-realistic portraits on exterior) with charcoal air filter and state of the art biocide fumigation rumpus.

<Deleted User> (7790)

Sun 26th Apr 2009 10:20

Hello Sirrah! It's scary being back but fortitude is everything. Well, it's something and it's nowt.
PS I spotted a dalmanda in a bivouac.

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Chris Dawson

Thu 16th Apr 2009 22:10

Benigne dicis!
Cx

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Chris Dawson

Thu 16th Apr 2009 00:24

Hi Bernard,
Thanks for your comments on 'Requiem' - glad you liked it. Sorry you didn't like the inclusion of the latin bit (wasn't a complete verse - just a couple of lines that felt relevant to me).
Thanks for reading anyway.
Juniper
x

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Anthony Emmerson

Mon 23rd Mar 2009 14:28

Hi Malpoet,
And thanks for your comments on "The Watercress Girl". Your feedback is most welcome. I took a stroll through your stuff and particularly enjoyed "Bobbing and Peering" - I have also found that the issue of prostitution is such a fertile source of material for poetry, I guess it's the concept that we are able to "buy" comfort from those who perhaps most need it theirselves. Also liked "Dad", althogh found it a little uncomfortable as it is close to my own experience of a relationship (or lack of) with my own late father. The ending sums it up perfectly, "Shame I never knew you. I am curious now you are dead." More power to your pen Sir!
Regards,
A.E.

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Malpoet

Sun 22nd Mar 2009 20:11

Hooray for the return of head butting pandas. It gets bloody boring on here at times. I bite people occasionally, but it's not a lot of fun really. You are needed.

<Deleted User> (7790)

Sun 22nd Mar 2009 20:05

Greetings! The instant message box was teflon coated and my words slid off it like water off a Offa. It wouldn't let me respond -- so you just had a Wonderwall of green-ink. Hello there! How are you? Ever so pleased you're keeping the tone effervescent and anarchic and paterphysic and prancey. Joy to your world, oh Honoured Malpoet!

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Gus Jonsson

Sun 22nd Mar 2009 16:47

Why Thank you kindly Mal...the lips thing is a bit of a fetish ...lovely mouths....pretty lips ... and sexy shoes ....grief I'm begining to shake again.....

Thanks again
Gus

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Malpoet

Wed 11th Mar 2009 14:15

Ah I see. Thank you. It was all Greek to me.

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Chris Dawson

Wed 11th Mar 2009 12:48

Greek homework - haphazardly with a lot of procrastination - in my case anyway.

Pas d'elle y'a Rhone car nous - paddle your own canoe. Not massively funny on its own - the fun comes in watching people tie themselves in knots trying to translate it.

Cx

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Malpoet

Wed 11th Mar 2009 11:35

Can't work that one out. Bit thick really.

You do get up to some odd things Juniper. How does a Greek home work?

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Chris Dawson

Wed 11th Mar 2009 10:15

I'm supposed to be doing my Greek homework but couldn't resist a look at Mots d'heures: Gousses, Rames. Very funny!
Only other similar thing I've come across is:
pas d'elle y'a Rhone car nous.
Cx

<Deleted User> (5592)

Mon 9th Mar 2009 15:15

We are reviewing all the repeating gigs in the WOL guide. Could you please confirm that Wirral Words is still 4th Tuesday

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Chris Dawson

Tue 24th Feb 2009 01:23

Hi Bernard, Thank-you for reading & commenting on 'Initial Name' - very much appreciated - I've left a bit more on the comments page of the poem.
Juniper
x

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Malpoet

Sun 15th Feb 2009 18:30

Thanks Gus for spending the time, for your generous comments and for the valuable cash saving tip. As you can tell I have been idling my life away voicing some of my poetry. Completing the job will consume many hours and leave me too limp to pursue the the pleasures in life that a retired person's mind should really be on.

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Gus Jonsson

Sun 15th Feb 2009 15:57

Hi Mal
I just finished reading and listening to your collection of postings.....As I just happened to have a spare half day....and well worth it springs to mind....love it, you are very talented...as I suspect you know...by the way you can get discount at our local brothel....Wednesday afternoons....and during Lent....not a great saving
but ever little helps..

Well done once again on a great posting.

See you at BabesRus sometime
Gus

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Malpoet

Sat 31st Jan 2009 18:23

Hi Winston

Thanks for submitting to WC, it takes courage and it is a service to every poet who reads it although there may be only a few who post in that area.

As I have said time and again, the appreciation of poetry is subjective and my opinion is of no more worth than anybody else's. I have read several of your poems and I like your work although your style is very different from mine.

Others will think very differently as Lauretta has already shown.

If you want to put any questions to me directly or tell me what you think about my comments please feel free to do so on this profile or in an e-mail. Thanks again for contributing and keep up the work.

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winston plowes

Sat 31st Jan 2009 17:34

Hi Mr Malpoet
thanks for reading and analysing at such length my poem in Write club. A lot of your comments I agree with, others I think I need to explain. Some I don't agree with. But I am really grateful of your time and effort spent on it. Winston

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Malpoet

Fri 22nd Aug 2008 09:17

It was a joke Richard. Sorry to be obscure, but when you ask existential questions you will get responses from strange people like me.

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Richard Brooks

Thu 21st Aug 2008 16:34

That was a general question, I didnt post it in the what is poetry discussion but a new one. You must have me confused. Ric :-/

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Tomás Ó Cárthaigh

Sun 13th Apr 2008 02:19

Loved your "Bobbing and Peering" poem, a great commentary on the scene is given. My poem "For Sale: A Soul and a Body, Whole" is on a similar vein.

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Mia Darlone

Sun 9th Dec 2007 23:36

I am nothing short of fulfilled with merriment at receiving such a pleasant comment - many gleeful thanks to you. I am working on some clean poems to put up - most of them are for therapy and would probably have me arrested if they left my scribble book.

Malcolm Saunders

Mon 26th Nov 2007 12:06

Thanks very much Clarissa. It is a controversial poem and people react to it in many different ways. I am glad that you enjoyed it.

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clarissa mckone

Sun 25th Nov 2007 21:03

Bravo on the poem Original Sin, its wonderful in every way and simply put...perfect! I enjoyed reading it very much.

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