365 Poems in 365 Days: More Heroes

A line from this poem (of mine) kept going around my head. If I hadn't already pressed Publish on that piece, this might be a second verse, but since I have, it's a new poem, riffing off some of the same ideas.  Go number 59.

All my heroes are dead
So now I'm free to ignore
Everything they may have said
Write my own life forever more.

365 Poems in 365 Days: The Game Is Afoot

Number 58 references and unfinished poem I have about the TV show Elementary. May have gone a tad self-referential there.

I wrote most of a poem reviewing Elementary
But the penultimate episode renders it unnecessary
It turns out it's not police procedural subtype quirky
Instead pure pulp, updated for the 21st Century

365 Poems in 365 Days: Fictional Stans

Number 57 is not about my friend Stan

This is Mr Stanton Stan
I have to admit he's a very strange man
He has a great fear of people with spoons
Which comes on him every full moon
The reason is, and there's no hint of a lie
He believes he'll turn into a delicious were-pie

365 Poems in 365 Days: Curses

Because I'm trying to write a lot of poems, rejecting an idea is not an option* for me. Because of this number 56 links Alfred Lord Tennyson and menstruation. Oh yes.

A fellow student went to a girl's school
Where they quoted from Tennyson's The Lady of Shalott
'The curse is come upon me' when their menstrual
Periods began and this happened quite a lot


* Rejecting a poem is, but you have to try first. Also sometimes reworking, or recycling bits of rejects does work.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Everyone On TV Was A Pervert

Number 55 responds to another 70s TV star I watched being arrested for sexual assault.

All my heroes are dead
And were never heroes anyway
(Some were the worst of villains it's said
So they're dead to me is what I say)

365 Poems in 365 Days: Sniper

I think I'm back in supervillain territory for number 54, although not an origin story this time. This is the kind of supervillain that turns up and everyone is like, oh yeah, him he stole the fabled diamond of despair, let loose a pack of wild hyenas on Rotterdam and blew up The Statue of Fraternity despite never having appeared on the page before.

They call me The Sniper
Or Death From Afar
Or Action-at-a-distance
(I don't expect you to get that one)

In Scotland I'm the Highland Hitman
After one of my more spectacular jobs.
I think all the good names are gone
And it doesn't matter anyway.

What matters is this:
That I kill from a long way away.
When they hear I'm in town
Certain types of people take precautions.

Because you know that I shoot
From half a mile or more
As easily as across the room
You set guards on rooftops and balconies

Never realising that the distant patrols
Are of no use if I'm
Right
Beside
You.

365 Poems in 365 Days: For All Occasions

Number 53 is the poem I actually wrote on the card I sent congratulating my brother, partner and nephew on my nephew's arrival. It's okay, the first verse better I think. I don't do congratulation poems well. Maybe it's because poetry tends to let my inner seventeen year old out, so that they're either jokes or when sincere are gloomy because the world is a dark place, man.

Congratulations James, Britt and Felix
Welcome to the world my little nephew
If you want to reply just wave and kick
Or maybe let your parents speak for you.

I'm sure it won't take long to learn new tricks
And then the fun of growing up ensues
Learning, laughing, day by day, brick by brick
We'll all be surprised by how fast you grow.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Single Dutch

Number 52. Rejected poem congratulating my brother and partner on the birth of my nephew.

Do Dutch boys get dressed in blue?
The least important question to pick
Over excited by arrival of nephew
My brain and tongue both need to be fixed.

The arrival of a stranger who
Probably just lies and kicks
It's a great celebration due
To our shared DNA helix

Over night I let this poem stew
Hoping for words that will stick
I'll put it aside, try take two -
Phrases mirror emotions; that's the trick

365 Poems in 365 Days: Apologies to Dr Seuss

Number 51. Damn I'm behind. This got scribbled during class this week.

Green Eggs and Ham
Come from a green can
Laid by a green hen
And a pig in a green pen.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Patience

Number 50 is a true if profoundly uninteresting story.

I'm waiting.
It's boring.
I was sleeping
And snoring.
Now I'm waiting
And Yawning.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Just Name Your Baby

 Number 49 I wrote to congratulate some friends on the arrival of their newborn. This continues my obsession with the pantun. The official version, which I printed out in card form and sent in the post has a mistake in it, so it's rarity value will no doubt only improve it.

I have still not been informed of the child's name. I can only hope that some form of it has five syllables and rhymes with something we might do in eighteen years. UPDATE: He does.

Welcome to the world [Insert Name Here]
You're too young to understand my verse
In eighteen years [We'll drink some beer]
Your Mum and Dad will likely yell and curse

You're just too young to understand my verse
If you knew I'm sure you would scream and cry
Your Mum and Dad will likely yell and curse
If they thought I'd brought tears to your eyes

If you knew I'm sure you would scream and cry
For what life holds for every person born
If they thought I'd brought tears to your eyes
This poem should have been ripped up and torn

For what life holds for every person born
In eighteen years [we'll drink some beer]
This poem should have been ripped up and torn
Welcome to the world [Insert Name Here]

365 Poems in 365 Days: Thatcher

Thatcher was Prime Minister until I was fourteen
I didn't remember another, couldn't tell what it means
Maybe I still don't, it remains to be seen

Number 48, this time on Margaret Thatcher's death. She was Prime Minister when I was growing up, and agree or disagree she was always there, until one day she wasn't. And now, again, like an echo.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Nothing

Number 47 of 365.

Somebody is marrying
Someone had a child
Someone else is moving
None of them are me

My calendar nicely clear
Nothing to clutter up the days
Another quiet, calming year?
We'll just have to wait and see.