Saturday, 30 April 2016

A typically Poetic end for Z

Ah yes sorry I am a bit late today But I have been working in the Hospice shop so Busy Busy Busy

Goes a buzzard
Flying past my Head
Goes an antelope
Its eyes filled with fear and dread
Goes a bustle of Nuns
Maybe it’s something I have said
Goes the vicar singing hymns
And pointing at the sky
Goes a pig
Making a piggy sort of cry
Goes the milkman
Shouting we are all going to die
This is all very odd
I must find out the reason why
Ah yes we have reached the letter Z
So there are loads of Zombies
And this poetry is now a bit


No thats it, it really is the End of the Alphabet

Friday, 29 April 2016

Poetry for the Yellow Dragon

As some of you will know (Ah maybe I have not mentioned it) my humble little blog has for reasons I do not understand become slightly popular in Japan. When I say popular I mean at least two folk are reading it, but some days I get more page views from Japan than anywhere else. So I have attempted to write for the letter Y a poem that has a bit of Japanese wisdom in it, and that might . . . . .  had it been written in Japanese sound like it was written in Japan.  

Now there is one slight problem with using the letter Y for this, and it is the fact the Dragon is Yellow, because as for as I can see Yellow Dragons tend to come from China. However Mr Yamamoto does travel across the sea for many many miles and so it might be that he does meet a friendly Chinese yellow dragon.

Anyway if you are one of my japanese readers then this is for you and thanks for reading. 

The Young and adventurous Mr Yamamoto
Set sail in a boat made from a cherry tree
To find the Yellow Dragon
In the famed waters of the Yellow Sea
He sailed for weeks and weeks
Through Storms and calm and swell
Until he arrived at the fabled island (伝説的な   )
The land were the Yellow Dragon is said to dwell
He battled through the forest
And up mountains that stretched up into the sky
Watched with curiosity the whole time
By the Yellow Dragons all seeing eye
Eventually they came face to face
And the Yellow Dragon
Asked him Why
He had travelled so many miles
When everyone had told him he would surely die
The Young adventurous Mr Yamamoto
Bowed at the wonderment of the great Yellow beast
And said he had brought many cherry’s
So that they could have a magnificent feast
So they sat and talked until darkness fell
And when they parted, many things
The Young adventurous Mr Yamamoto
Did now truly understand
And he returned to his family
A much richer and wiser man
Back to his old Homeland

Thursday, 28 April 2016

Poetry for X . . . . . Sort of

It seems I cant write Poetry for X. . . Although I tried a bit and thought about it for a least 30 seconds or even more. But the problem is that so far stuff has just happened in my head and it has been OK because it all just happens as I type, however X did not just magically happen so I decided to say BAH HUMBUG and ended up writing the following without the guidance of my trusty Red Indian spirit guide who I am told was eating ice cream and chasing seagulls in the wild places of the British coast line. I know its true he told me himself . . . . . 

Luckily it appears all has gone well for the Letter Y which for even stranger reasons has gone Japanese or as near Japanese as a chap who knows nothing about Japan can get. Actually there is a reason for trying to make it a bit more Japanese sounding which you will learn in due course. Still that it tomorrows letter so for now we have my extremely bad Poem for X, honestly it is terrible   

Salmon and ham and X
Cannot run away
Because it seems they have no leX (to stand on)
As a chap did once X-plain and say
And although a chicken has been designed with two . . (LeX)
In your oven it has nowhere to run too
So it soon becomes an X chicken
And turns into a rather nice chicken stew
Rats of course have four leX
And will run up and down and back and fore
At speeds which might seem quite X-stream
Which is why I shoot at them?
With my large Rat Killing
Laser Beam.

The End

Actually I rather like rats they are clever little critters
And good sports and generally good eggs all round
Well eggs are generally sort of round ish

I am not sure that terms such as good eggs and good sports are still used among the masses these days but a chap has to maintain standards and keep proper English like what I write alive and kicking. A sentiment that the humble rat entirely agrees with, although in their case it is the alive and kicking bit they are keen on, or as they would say themselves, alive and scurrying. And as one rat mate rather succinctly liked to put it EEEeeeeccccckkk. 

Wednesday, 27 April 2016

Harry the Witch and Princess Malfoy . . . A rather unusual fairytale

Once upon a time there was a young wizard called Harry, (no not that wizard) who was not entirely happy at his new school for wizards. You see despite the common perception that wizards fly about on broomsticks they don’t. It is in fact a misconception brought about by that other extremely popular and well-known Harry. The truth is Wizards DO NOT EVER fly about on broomsticks it is just not allowed or possible and a wizard would be in deep trouble if he even tried. Only witches get to use broomsticks as transport and they are often seen flying to and fro, here and there with their faithful black cats smiling and looking ever so slightly evil. 

Now the thing is although Harry was a young wizard he had always dreamed of flying to and fro here and there with his faithful black cat smiling and looking ever so slightly evil ever since he was very very small. But all his life he had been told NO you are a Wizard and Wizards don’t use Broomsticks . . . Well this was all very frustrating for Harry until one day he finally thought I know I will become a witch. So he borrowed a pointy hat and a big gown and various other items of clothing from his friend Henrietta and went off to see the headmaster to tell him that from now on he was going to be called Harriet and was now a witch, Harriet the Witch.

Well as Harry (Harriet) entered the headmaster’s office the headmaster (Professor Humble-Pie) looked up only to chock on his morning cup of newts brain tea . . . What on earth has happened Harry has someone cast a terrible spell on you. . . Harry then explained that he had decided that he wanted to be Harriet the Witch and he (now she) was going to get a broomstick and a black cat called Tinkerbell. Well the headmaster was not happy and tried to persuade Harry (Harriet) that he really would be better as a wizard. But Harriet (Harry) was not going to change his/her mind now.

As Harriet (Harry) walked into class there was much sniggering and pointing and name calling but Harry (Harriet) had spent ages getting all those witches undergarments on and even Malfoy the school bully was not going to get the getter of Harry (Harriet) now.  Then after school while the other wizards laughed and pointed Harriet finally got a broomstick to try and to everyone’s amazement was off flying round the school doing loop the loops and all manner of tricks it seems that Harry the Wizard was indeed Harriet the Witch. Malfoy the school bully was not happy though, and was about to cast a terrible spell on Harriet when Harriet turned him into a frog as witches do. Malfoy demanded to be turned back into Malfoy but Harriet (Harry) said he would only be turned back into a wizard when he was kissed by a Prince because that was what always happened.  Malfoy was as you might expect a bit annoyed . . . Kissed by a Prince . . . YUCK.

Well a few days later a young Prince called Prince Percy was passing and on seeing the large frog thought to himself . . . . Ah a frog I really should kiss it just in case, after all this is a fairy tale (sort of).  To his amazement what should appear before him but Malfoy dressed in a long flowing princess’s sparkly dress and wearing a tiara.  And as we know everyone lived happily ever after . . . . . . . . . . AH Well almost.

You see after Prince Percy and Princess Malfoy were married Prince Percy discovered that Princess Malfoy did nothing but complain all the time, particularly at breakfast. So in the end Prince Percy got a friendly witch to turn Princess Malfoy back into a frog, of course yet again he-she (Princess Malfoy) was not happy about this. Prince Percy never kissed another frog after that and eventually met a proper Princess and they lived happily ever after in a traditional palace with towers and stuff.

But it was not the end of Princess Malfoy who after a long spell living in a duck pond and several other adventures re-emerged into the world of popular fairy tales as a wicked Step Mother, and a very good (as in wicked) wicked Step Mother she was too.

As for Harriet (Harry) the Witch, she (he) can often be seen flying to and fro on her broomstick with her Black cat called Tinkerbell in the moon lit night sky, Tinkerbell the cat smiling and looking ever so slightly evil. And they lived Happily ever after too.

The End  

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

Poetry for a Vegetarian Vampire

Vernon the Vampire
Is a strict Vegetarian
Devouring every mid-night lentil soup
And Veggie shepherd’s pie
Oooooooo says Vernon
As the hummus lets out a fearful cry
I might bite an avocado
As it innocently wanders by
And as the juices from a beetroot
Trickle off his plate
Staining the carpet a deep rich red
Its seems that Vernon plans to turn
All the vegetables he can 
Into members of his
terrible Veggie army
of the


Monday, 25 April 2016

A Poem for a Unicorn and an Umbrella

What is that unidentified thing
Lurking under your umbrella
Which you have used rather a lot lately
In this unusually inclement weather
Did it utter an unearthly noise?
Something I did not understand
And is that an indescribable claw
Or some sort of diabolical cursed hand
And why have you brought it into this place
With its slightly disturbing Undulating face
Hiding it under your black umbrella
Hoping we would not notice
Because of all that unusually inclement weather
But who could detract attention
From such a utilitarian device as an umbrella
Particularly bearing in mind
The unusually inclement weather
And as we unearth the beast from under your umbrella
We discover upon its head a large pointy horn
I think therefore we can tell that this
Unidentified hideous Beast

Is in fact a Unicorn.

Saturday, 23 April 2016

Beware Poetry Bearing Gifts

I made myself a Viking mate
Out of branches and some planks of wood
He had a Viking helmet with horns and stuff
And looked really really really good
Then at night I left him outside the gates
Of a delivery company called Parcel Force
But in the morning he was gone
Because my wooden mate
as I'm sure you have guessed

Was a Trojan Norse

Which is why he’s gone of course
Like the horse

HAH Hahaha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha hah a ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha h ahah ah  aha ha 


Friday, 22 April 2016

Poetry for a Snake and a huge mutant Sea Serpent.

A snake ate the Sister of the Son
The Second Son a Scared old Sailor
Who had worked hard in the past
As a whaler on a whaling boat
Surely, one of the very last
It then ate a Salad, and had a cup of tea
Slithering, Slipping and Sliding gracefully
And whispered Silently at what it did see
And promptly ate the Sailors Servant
A Soldier, a Slave and a Secular man
Who Screamed O no go away
Please do not eat me
But Shouting at a Snake is rather futile
It would be so much better just to flee
Then the  Snake  Smiled
And regurgitated various decomposing human parts
Which it gazed upon with interest
As it included  Several  Still moist pumping hearts
When what Should turn up
But a huge mutant Sea Serpent
As mutant Sea Serpents are inclined to do
Which promptly ate the Snake
Ate the human bits
And then ate me and you


Thursday, 21 April 2016

Poetry for RRRRrrrrrrrrrr

RRRRRrrrrrrrrrr said the Pirate
As he stood on the Pirate Ship
A mug of rum in his hand
From which he had a little sip
As he watched the waves far out at sea
A parrot on his shoulder
And a wooden leg attached to his left Knee
RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrr me hearties
As he winks at the rest of his crew
Throwing Tom the cabin boy overboard
Because it is the sort of thing
Pirates are meant to do 

Man Overboard

HHHA Hha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha ha ha h

RRRRr Damn the Shark got him

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

Poetry for a belligerent swarm of bees (or the letter Q)

Behold the quadrilateral and its corners and lack of curves
Speculate on the quintessential and how it turns and flows
Celebrate the quadrangle with some algebra and cheese
And with some quadraphonic music you can confuse
A large and belligerent swarm of bees
Quantify your poetry
With some quality, and pursue your personal Quest
And if you want to know who writes the strangest poetry
I think you will find it is me
Cos I’m the Best.

The End


Tuesday, 19 April 2016

Poetry for Poetry

Everyone loves a proper poem
Where love and hate mingle among the trees
And profound thoughts twist and turn
And skip and dance in the breeze

Grown men pondering every sentence and each pause
Agonising as poets like to do, the words of every verse
As they wonder what Shakespeare would have done
With three mad old witches and a curse

And as I say "three mad old witches that’s so Easy"
These great poets look upon me with great distain
As I shout "eye of newt and leg of frog"
But they insist I’m a silly chap and totally insane

Monday, 18 April 2016

Poetry for an Octopus

There is an Octopus
About ma Hoose
With its tentacles
Aroond ma stairs
Singing sea shanties
And Drinking beer
And it dis ney seem to even care

But in the early morning
It will be full of deep regret
When it learns I videoed the lot
And I put it on the internet
For all to stop and stare

And guess what I will have for tea
In Batter with chips and peas
It seems tomorrow there’ll be one less beast

Swimming in the deep blue seas.

Saturday, 16 April 2016

Nearly Poetry

I nearly saw the Nearly Bird
When it nearly hit my window
And nearly got a photograph
When it nearly
Landed on a stick

Then it nearly landed on my bird table
And nearly ate some bread
And was nearly caught by my cat
Who would have played with it
Until it was nearly dead
But the Nearly Bird
Has flown away
So now it is time to nearly go
As my Poetry has nearly
Reached the End
As I’m sure
You nearly know

The End

Noggin the Nog
Met a Witch, in the forest
But it did not end well as you might expect
And now Noggin’s

A Frog

Friday, 15 April 2016

Poetry for M. . or I might have lost my way a bit

There is a mammoth monstrous monster
Who likes to sit on Mountains?
Reading books and singing songs
And scaring crows and mad old ladies
Who out on their annual summer outing
To Clacton by the Sea
Will eat fish and chips and candy floss
All smothered in onion gray-veeeee
And if the sun shines bright
They might just get to, as a little bit of fun
Pinch the Bums Of unsuspecting passing
Sailors from the Nave-veeee

Thursday, 14 April 2016

Poetry for Lava

There is a beast with long limp limbs
That hangs about on volcano rims
Eating Sulphur Dust
And nice Rock Cakes
With Lemon Bon Bons
And acrid Warm Milk Shakes
Shouting . . . I lost it, I’ve lost it
O No it’s gone its gone
I am forlorn
Where did it go?
I have lost my favourite

Lava flow.

Wednesday, 13 April 2016

Poetry for the Kind and the Knot so Kind

It appears some folk are Kind
And that some folk are Knot
But which one is which
Is the part
I still have

Knot Got 

Tuesday, 12 April 2016

Poetry for the letter J

OK I forgot to draw a picture, but here is a photo I took of some tiny beasts in a rock pool by the sea. I dont know what they are but they were weird little critters a bit like myself HAH AHha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha hah h ah ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha ha hah ah 

Is that a beast that jumps?
Off small twigs and hilly lumps
And then jiggles about in a strange jiggly way
Quietly trying to pass the day

Well if it is, said my friend
There is only one thing I can do
And with that my friend
Stamped on the Jumping beast
And squashed it

With his shoe

Monday, 11 April 2016

Poetry for an Insect

Insects are almost always rather small
But they think us humans are rather tall
And when they see us they get a bit of a fright

Which is why insects will in general bite

Saturday, 9 April 2016

Poetry for a Halibut

The Halibut apparently can do no harm
And once dried out is often used as a lucky charm
 It is often eaten and often caught
But no one asks the Halibut

What the Halibut thought.

Friday, 8 April 2016

Poetry for Goats

Goats are great
At guessing the time
And reciting a rather majestic
Goatee beardy rhyme
And will eat tins of beans
And apple sauce
As well as almost
Anything else of course
Which is the thing, what goats like to do?
 . . . . . . . . . . . . (look its poetry so Ya Sucks Boo)
And if they got the chance
They would like
Almost certainly

To eat you.

 . . . . . . . . . . . . (which if you say quickly sounds like an Owl), 

Which will unnerve most rodents if you shout it at them as they scurry about your kitchen, as they do in their devil may care way making rude gestures at the cats who have a far to comfortable lifestyle for their own good.  

Thursday, 7 April 2016

Poetry for Flamingoes

The flamboyant Flamingo
Which is rather bright pink?
As a result of its Diet
So I’ve heard sort of, I think
Will stand on one leg
In a herd for many many days
Perfectly still in a trance like haze
And they do like to eat
Shrimp chocolate and nuts
And hide on the beach
In Victorian beach huts
And will sing songs
By Abba after a drink or two
And wash their feet
Once a week
Like us chaps like to do
Although I do like to keep my socks on

Unlike Flamingos who don’t wear socks

Wednesday, 6 April 2016

Poetry for an Elephant

An Elephant is
Big Wide Square and Grey
A bit like my office
Which I work in
During the day
But I don’t like my office
So sadly, I have told the elephant
He just can not stay
So he has packed up his trunk
And wandered away
But he has said
He will never forget
And will return again 
one day

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

Poetry for Dogs

Dogs are faithful friendly beasts
That smell and lick and chew
Which is why
When I went to the pet shop

I bought a cockatoo 

Monday, 4 April 2016

Poetry for a Crocodile

Everyone loves a cute cuddly critter
Such as a cockatoo or a cat
Or even a capercaillie
Or the humble caterpillar
And sure enough
Every one of them
Is bound to make folk smile
But I find they are all  
Rather useful snacks
For Clive my


I was always told Poetry should be short and snappy.
Or turned into a pair of Shoes and a Handbag