Saturday, August 31, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Cleaning

Nine rooms to clean upstairs
Two bathrooms, three bedrooms
A study, a lounge, a landing...
Hmm. Seem to have lost one



Mundane household task in a poem awkwardly put together? Must be number 148.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Pride

Pride is the trickiest of vices
Perhaps because humility is invisible
Keeping our virtues hidden has a price
While shouting them out is distasteful

More deadly sinness for number 147.

365 Poems in 365 Days: I Like Turtles

A boat turns over and it’s hull
Looks curiously like a turtle’s shell
And “turned turtle” hints at
The helplessness of a turtle on it’s back

Number 146. Turtleness.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Why I Should Write The Next Batman Film

Riddle me this Caped Crusader:
(Wilx and Paul, this isn’t for you)
What does a man dressed like Dracula
Have in common with peas, walls and Brazil too

Number 145 is from The Riddler.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Not a Joke

Two rivals opposite or next door
Clearly the setup for a sitcom
I don’t know which amuses me more
The two Thai restaurants in town
Being opposite or the time I saw
A 99p shop and Poundland across and one down

Number 144 is all true. I didn't put in the time that a friend of mine who is starting a part-time business to make and decorate cakes moved into a new house and discovered her neighbour is a professional cake decorator, because that would strain credibility.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Melancholy

I will always let you go
Because I can’t ask you to stay
And without the invitation
You will always walk away

Yes I have regrets. A few. No lots. At least 143 of them.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Lack of Anything to Write About

I need a muse

Would you like to be my inspiration?
To sit around while I’m sunk in concentration?
Stuff like this would be the only compensation.

Number 142 is this silly thing about wanting someone or thing to inspire me.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Lust

Writing about lust I hit a wall
(Because poems about sex aren’t embarrassing at all)
I don’t have anything new to say on the vices
Don’t let lust get out of hand – oops, double entendre arises

Number 141 continues the seven deadly sins.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Old World

The world has always been old
A bare handful of the tens of billions
Of people have ever entered a land -
Crossing the mountain, sailing the strait -
Where no one has lived before
For the rest of us there are remains
Ruins and graveyards, discarded tools
The left behind remnants of our ancestors
Scattered across the man-made landscape
The world has always been old

Number 140 is a reminder that just about everywhere people live, there are thousands of years of pre-history.

Friday, August 30, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: More Elves. Elfs. Whatelver.

I am the Dawnborn, youngest of the elven Elders
Entering the world on the first disastrous day
When the sun burst upon the heavens.
The stargazers read the sky for clues of the future
But I am the Solomancer and I know the present
Where the sun shines I can see all
And as for tomorrow it ends in fire.

I am the Dawnborn, oldest elf of the new age
Grew up in a world turned crazy
Burnt golden by day, cool silver by night.
I am the Lunamancer and in the monthly cycle
I can read fertility of crops, herds, people.
First to feel the lunatic touch of the moon
The night is no hiding place when we shine in the sky.

I am the Dawnborn, caught between two worlds
Day and night are equally my home, and strangers to me.
I can see all the powers of this age
I am the Auroramancer, standing at the moment
The darkness gives way to the light
My only prophecy is that things change
And dawn having come, soon we give way to evening.

Back to the elf poems. Clearly the Dawnborn is off her nut, and why wouldn't she be. I see the oldest elves being immensely powerful but subtle, and the younger being more flashy but superficial; the Dawnborn is all of those at once. Number 139.

365 Poems in 365 Days: 50 Shades Of Things I Shouldn't Write

 Why I Shouldn't Write Erotic Novels

Annie Brass meets billionaire Christopher Black
Intimidated she's surprised when he calls her back
Her surprise grows when he offers her a sexual contract
Caught by curiosity and attraction she signs the pact
Then waits at home as he's three weeks late
Until his business gives him time to consummate -
But after tying her up he has to take a phone call
His New York stockbroker needs to act before the market falls
Leaving her until the maid discovers the situation
(The excitement is all in the anticipation)

It is my personal belief, without evidence, that most active business men are too busy and too satisfied by success in their work to get involved in really interesting orgies. This is poem number 138.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: There's more where that came from

Neil and Stan in a van
Stan ran over the Green Cross Man
They're outrunning the cops as fast as they can
Not home tonight, they're on the lam
Neil and Stan in a van.

Number 137 is more of number 136.

365 Poems in 365 Days: The Ballad of Neil and Stan (in a van)

Number 136, a true story.

Neil and Stan in a van
They're on the road with a plan
Not hanging out getting a tan
Or playing shooters over a LAN
It's Neil and Stan in a van

In a van it's Stan and Neil
Stan's the one behind the wheel
On to Aylsford to make a deal
We're not going to stop for a meal
In a van it's Stan and Neil

Neil in a van and also Stan
The dashboard bleeps - it's not the fan
It's mysterious beyond the knowledge of man
We'll keep going as long as we can
Neil in a van and also Stan

Sunday, August 18, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Wedding

Congratulations
Gareth and Gemma got hitched
Happy days indeed

135 is a haiku about some friends who got married.

Friday, August 16, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Dragon Slaying Greek Gods

The dragon’s name is Python
A baby it tried to swallow
It chose the wrong child to pick on
For it was the young Apollo

I have turned Greek myth into a 4 line poem. Hooray for me. Number 134.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Gluttony

We eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat
Then pause to drink and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat
And eat and eat and eat and eat until we’re no longer hungry
Then eat and eat and eat and eat – this poem is on gluttony

My continuing thesis is that the seven deadly sins are virtues, or at least not actively disgraceful, but taken to excess. Here, though, my repetition of the word "eat" is to excess, thereby embodying my argument withing the very structure of this poem. Do you notice that when you repeat a word a lot it changes? No? Just me then. Number 133.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Dirty Mind

Sometimes people mention they are having date night
I know they’re taking time to ensure a slight
Amount of romance so their relationships don’t fade
But I have a dirty mind so I just hear they’re getting laid

I'M SORRY I CAN'T HELP IT. Number 132.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Envy

To want something is a fine thing
(Although perhaps the Buddha disagrees)
But to want it because it’s someone else’s belonging
Is why envy is a sin, do you see



Look, I'm not an expert on sin. No, seriously. And envy is not my thing anyway* so this, number 131, is all I have to say on the topic.

* Thank you buddha nature

365 Poems in 365 Days: Not for Arachnophobes

Lying on my back with my mouth open wide
Wondering if a spider will go and crawl inside
Spin a web across my teeth like the entrance to a cave
I hope my new spider friend is going to behave

Number 130

365 Poems in 365 Days: Avarice

A writing group suggested the seven deadly sins as a topic to write on for our next meeting. Seven things = seven poems for this project (or, in fact, more). My problem with this is I have this to say about these vices: They're okay in moderation, but don't take them to excess. Which is a little boring after you've said it 3 times and have 4 more to go, which is the stage I'm at as I post this. Anyway, number 129.

Vices are by their nature excessive
Which is clear when we consider avarice
A desire for wealth is not disgraceful
Unless cramming gold into a hoard already full

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Self Criticism

I write bad poetry at 3 in the morning
Full of angst and suffering and self loathing
But when your 365 poems project is behind
I just revise it, post it, hope no one minds

This, of course, is my impression of my previous poem. This one is number 128.

365 Poems in 365 Days: I Hate Everything

If I want I can choose the day I die
It would hurt everyone I love except me
I’d never see the tears people cry
When I decide what the ending will be

It would hurt everyone I love except me
I tried too hard and not enough to please
When I decide what the ending will be
Escape this life, I always had the keys

I tried too hard and not enough to please
All me feelings burnt down ever so low
Escape this life, I always had the keys
Red, like embers, I just stare as they glow

All my feelings burnt down ever so low
I’d never see the tears people cry
Red like embers I just stare as they glow
If I want I can choose the day I die

It was late at night and I was feeling down. A prime example of my inner gloomy seventeen year old poetry. Number 127.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Because Harry Potter, That's Why

Sometimes I feel like Hermione to your Harry
But that I might be Ron is my real worry
Whatever happens, no matter what I say or do
At least I’m not your You-Know-Who

Number 126. Has the time passed for Harry Potter poetry?

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Dreams

Number 125 is a dream, and then an awakening.

I dreamt I was in Belfast
Discussing the closing of record shops
While walking until at last
I roll off my pillow and it stops

365 Poems in 365 Days: Summer Fun

The wind is cool and it’s raining
But this is summer so I’m smiling
Rather this than burning and boiling

Man, I can't be satisfied with a lovely hot summer. Number 124.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Band Names

Eyelash Guilt is the name of a band
My friend is following them about
I misremembered their name and
It seems “Bleeding Eyes” is right out

Number 123 is a true story from movie night.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Hairy Bikers

‘Genghis Khan used to eat my pudding,’
Says Dave Myers as I walk past the TV
I could stay for context but to rub it in
The timer goes off to say it’s time for tea

Number 122. This is pretty stupid; a line out of context from a TV show and that's it. Still four lines from it, can't complain.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Seagulls

Lots of seagulls this year. Are they coming in land, or have they just had a particularly fertile season? Anyway inspiration for 121, which closely resembles my earlier bee poem.

Screaming seagull, why do you scream?
Calling from rooftops do you want to be seen?
Or are you crying out to be mean?
I must admit on that noise I’m not keen
So screaming seagull, why must you scream?

Monday, August 12, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Ideas

I find ideas in my dreams there waiting
They join me as I go out walking
Wave out the television blinking
In newspapers, menus, pictures, books
The sky, plants, birds, everywhere I look
And once or twice they’ve met me while I cook

Where do I get my ideas from? Because they aren't giving me enough of them to keep up with one poem a day. Number 120 does not address the issue as closely as these notes tend to.

365 Poems in 365 Days: 2013 Films About Attacks On The White House

Two films about an attack on the white house
Released in One Year. A coincidence
Of paranoia and declining empire.

I don't know what this is about. I mean, sure, it's about Olympus Has Fallen and White House Down, but there's no rhyme and the meter is a bit dodgy and I pretty sure my conclusion is unwarranted. On the other hand I'm over a hundred poems behind on this site (if not so much with drafts elewhere) so up it goes. I have not seen either film. Number 119.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Bodily Fluids

Felixy Felix, Felix D-W
The obvious rhyme to go here is ‘poo’
Felix, boy Felix, Felix W-D
Which inevitably means this line ends with wee

Riffing off a previous poem of mine about my nephew. This one, number 118, is significantly less mature. As might be expected I came up with these rhymes at the time, wisely decided not to use them, and now, short of poems, put them into use anyway.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Bees

Bumble bee bumbling, what do you see?
A bird’s eye watching oh so greedily?
Flowers calling out to you quite colourfully?
Or just things to dodge as it gusts windily?
So what do you see bumbling bumble bee?

As might be expected I was sitting in the garden when I wrote this. Too many question marks maybe? Number 117.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Magic Trick

So for my next trick
I will need a volunteer
Why have you vanished?

I honestly don't know where this haiku came from. Number 116.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Bad Writing Day

An hour writing and not a sentence worth using
Ideas ill-carried, words without zing
Inspiration and phrases form apart and won’t cling
Try again later, it’ll work then I’m hoping

Moaning about writing. In a poem. Fortunately it's not good (although I do like the opening line) so theme matches execution. Bonus. Number 115.

365 Poems in 365 Days: True King

How shall we know when the true king has come
A monarch who can heal and sooth pain?
Those who talk when they should listen struck dumb
Troubles ended and prosperity reigns

A monarch who can heal and sooth pain
Helping us see the things we need to do
Troubles ended and prosperity reigns
A fresh start we can make everything new

Helping us see the things we need to do
Our worst selves forgotten as our best selves sing
A fresh start we can make everything new
The kingdom it’s people not just the king

Our worst selves forgotten as our best selves sing
Those who talk when they should listen struck dumb
The kingdom it’s people not just the king
How shall we know when the true king has come?




This has been brewing for a while. What with the new prince, and the changing of the monarchs in Belgium and the Netherlands, not to mention the Pope's abdication, the question about what a king is, and means and so on has been discussed here and there. This is not quite what I intended at the start; it's certainly not everything I have to say on the topic. Number 114.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Summer Fun

The fan whines in my laptop
Complains that the summer night’s hot
Yesterday it just shut down and stopped

Number 113 I wrote a few days ago when it was really hot.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Maybe I Should Look Up What Fear Of Clowns Is Called

Why is anyone afraid of clowns?
Is it the face paint, the movement, the noise?
It’s sad that they get people down
They just want to entertain girls and boys.




Number 112 is about how I don't understand fear of clowns.

365 Poems in 365 Days: My Financial Professionalism



Other people’s money brings me out in a cold sweat
I don’t know why people are so eager to let
Me handle it; crazy pressure you bet.

No seriously. Please don't suggest I should be treasurer. Number 111.

365 Poems in 365 Days: Letter to the Editor

Sir,
I am writing to complain about youth of today
Who race on the bike paths that my taxes paid
For and generally use them to have all kinds of fun;
Bicycling should be hard work, like a run.
If they want to enjoy themselves go to the park
And, if they’re quiet, have a bit of a lark

Yours faithfully
Albert Beardly

Number 110 is this generic letter of complaint.

365 Poems in 365 Days: A Return To Elf Poems

I am silence and shadow and cannot be seen by mortal eyes
When I hunt the prey is always taken by surprise
Men have asked if it’s magic or decades of skill
I answer that a century in a forest will
Teach you it’s secrets no matter the season
Tracks and trails and hiding places for all reasons
And they teach you in the Cherry Blossom Temple
The skills of hunting and scouting, physical and mental
So they depart thinking they could be as good as an elf
If they just lived long enough, keeping their health
Now I am invisible in their city, the unseen spy
I am silence and shadow and protected by lies

Another Elf Poem. New narrator, although not as different as I hoped. Still, he smiles and is friendly and lies, which is a little new. The Cherry Blossom Temple is actually inspired by a drink. Number 109.