Mr Poetry

(To be read in a slow, Southern American accent)

Hey, Mr poetry

why you always rhyming me

why am I not biting

on the clever words you writing

You try to explain love

like a god from high above

you say you got the slant

on my life there in your rant

but I don't need your words

for I'm not following the herds

'cos I don't read no heavy books

full of words with fancy looks

you ain't writing it for me

in all that clever poetry

I am sure I'm not your man

so "sonnet" down the "can"

with your iambic pentameter 

man it's you who is the amateur

I don't hear my own way

of speaking in what you have to say

you know nothing of my being

you ain't seeing what I'm seeing 

no-one here done talk like you

the way you poets seem to do

you there from another time

with your books of fancy rhyme 

Shakespeare that was years ago

that dudes dead and you don't know 

and you want us to sit and tune-in

man we ain't gonna be list-en-ing 

Mr poetry we're not "tight"

so what for me you gonna write!

Does She Walk

She walks

down lanes, over fields

she walks

with her dogs

sometimes without

many miles

without doubt 

she walks.

She walks

rain or shine

she walks

by the river

sometimes to the quay

many miles

of boats she does see

when she walks.

She walks

but why is that so?

As she walks

is she walking

for liberation?

Many miles

of frustration

many miles

a past situation

many miles

this pilgrims salvation

does she walk.

Absence

absence makes the heart grow fonder

absent makes the heart go missing

abstain makes the heart go without

absinth makes the heart get drunk

absurd makes the heart wildly irrational 

abscond makes the heart leave secretly under the cover of darkness 

abscess makes the heart form puss due to an infection

abseil makes the heart descend a cliff face on a length of rope

absenteeism makes the heart regularly not turn up for work

absentmindedly makes the heart leave it's umbrella on the bus...

but absence

most definitely 

makes the heart 

grow fonder

Old Age

Suddenly 

and without warning

from going to bed feeling normal

after catching up on the latest episode of "Love Island"

you wake up 

and feel compelled to head off into town

to buy yourself a pair of velcro fastened shoes - they're so convenient 

and a pair of comfy drawstring

trousers

the ones with an elasticated waist  - beige of course.

You find yourself thinking it would be a great idea to go out for a picnic 

and park in a lay-by along side a busy "A" road.

Don't fight the urge to make a "thermos" of coffee 

or to make cheese sandwiches.

Coffee and sandwiches from petrol stations are so expensive!

Of course you must go for a wee before you leave - never pass a toilet!

You won't worry about the outfit you're in

beige shorts, complete with long navy blue socks is fine

those socks have a lovely thistle motif around the top

and you'll wear your brown sandals - perfect!

Once on your way

you'll be looking for a turning

so you have to turn the "Today Programme" off 

because you need to concentrate.

So what is this nightmare you're in?

What have you woken up into?

How did this happen?

Old age is what has happened to you!

Don't worry about it now!

This might not have happened to you yet

You might be young, fit and healthy

and go to the gym

and watch "Love Island"

and not like cheese sandwiches. 

and prefer a creamy latte with sprinkles from a petrol station 

made with beans which have been passed through the digestive system of an elephant 

and they're only fifteen quid a cup anyway!

But...

one morning 

I am telling you

this will have happened to you 

and you will wake up as an "old person!"

You have been warned!

Some tips:

Men.

Don't take up an extreme sport.

Don't buy a Harley Davidson.

Don't dump your wife for a younger model.

And don't grow a pony tail!

Women.

Yes that skirt is too short

No, don't get a tattoo - well not on there anyway

don't get plastic surgery - they're big enough already

but maybe try dumping your old man for a younger model

You've been told!

Silence

Silence - a tricky beast to track down

a solitary creature

elusive

nocturnal  

ephemeral - yet ever present

there under all of lifes "hub-bub" 

grabbed in fleeting moments 

down in a secret corner 

late at night

after a train has passed

a moment caught sat in your garden

down a high street 

long after the shops have shut

before the pubs kick-out

when the noise from the nighttime revellers 

scares it back into the dark recesses 

to wait until natures calm returns

the hushed dead of night

the hours of stillness

the time of the urban fox

of star filled skies

and the silence of the moon

then...

displaced by the rising sun

just before a new day dawns

it is gone once more

displaced by the noise of the modern world...

and back to the shadows

(Haiku)

Getting old means you

can put inches on your waste 

looking at a cake