Tag Archives: Poetry

Advertland

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It’s like another land inside the telly!
So far, in every ad I’ve seen for booze,
there’s never been a man with a beer belly
and not a single one of them has moobs.

In Advertland, the roads are always empty.
Nobody in McDonald’s ads is fat,
and everyone in ads for Match is pretty –
in Facebook ads, nobody’s handicapped.

The women trying to lose weight all look healthy
(though some of them shave legs that have no hair)
and when it’s time for them to do their laundry
you’ll find no sign of dirty underwear.

In Advertland, the houses are enormous.
The bathrooms are all spotless (unlike mine) –
except for in the ads for cleaning products,
where women wipe away CGI grime.

Here, constipated ladies dance with yoghurt –
yet never do you see them near a loo!
A ghostly Audrey Hepburn’s eating chocolate,
in Advertland, where nothing shown is true.

Little Sharp Knife

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There’s one like me in every home –
I’m the little sharp knife.
Compared to other cutlery,
I lead a thrilling life.

I’m not stuck in some old canteen,
I’m not part of a pair.
The dish ran away with the spoon –
but me? Free as the air!

I’ll often come in handy for
what DIY requires –
from acting as a screwdriver,
to stripping ends of wires.

I’ll cut wallpaper down to size
(and wrapping paper too).
I’ll be your letter opener,
prise pebbles from a shoe.

And when you throw me in the sink,
all sticky from my chores,
I’ll lurk below the waterline
pretending that I’m Jaws…

How To Feed A Vegan

Humour 1 Comment

How to feed a vegan –
it needn’t cause a fuss!
It’s easy to remember –
think ‘vegetarian – plus’.

They simply don’t eat animals,
no, not of any sort.
It really isn’t difficult –
it just requires some thought.

Yes, that’s including chicken,
and fish of every kind,
and Quorn (’cause it’s got egg white) –
but soya is just fine.

No things that come from animals –
like eggs and milk and cheese,
or gelatine (that’s made from hoof!)
or honey (made by bees).

And don’t forget the insects
that can hide inside a meal
(for some are used as additives –
beetles in cochineal).

So now you know the basics
about this kind of diet.
It’s healthy, and low-calorie –
perhaps you’d like to try it?

Table

Rants, Thoughtful Leave a comment

Have you ever sat at that table,
at a wedding? You know the one –
full of people without partners,
with traits nobody wants.

The independent women,
who persist in being single,
are never seated with couples
for fear that they might mingle.

The nun who, even in plain clothes,
exudes a faith too strong,
her chastity embarrassing
to those whose faith has gone.

And the widow who strives to be merry,
invited because she’s a friend
but not really wanted at weddings
for she’s living proof – love always ends.

My Pussy Cat’s In Love With Alan Rickman

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One afternoon, while I was watching Die Hard,
my cat began to act a tad peculiar.
She displayed no interest
in Bruce Willis in his vest –
no, only those scenes featuring Hans Gruber…

My pussy cat’s in love with Alan Rickman!
She watches him intently on the screen.
When he says “Mr Takagi”
it’s too much for my poor moggy
and she purrs like she’s the cat that got the cream.

Yes, my kitty’s got the hots for Alan Rickman –
to hear him speaking sends her quite ecstatic.
I’d love to ask that man
if he knows of feline fans,
for his voice acts as a form of aural catnip.

So, now I know my cat loves Alan Rickman,
we’ll have to watch more of his DVDs.
I’ll be careful which I choose –
heaven knows what she might do
if she ever got her paws on Prince of Thieves!

The Seven Dreaded Bins

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You can hear the whole street cursing
as the weekly chore begins –
yes, once again it’s time to face
the seven dreaded bins.

First the green bin for the food waste,
tough enough to foil a fox –
but the leaky liner leaves a trail
that’s sticky as a slug’s.

The brown bin holds the garden waste
though it’s really much too big –
you can scarcely wheel the damn thing
once it’s full of grass and twigs.

The cardboard sack’s like raffia
so, once emptied of its load,
it fills with air and, billowing,
sails off along the road.

The paper sack was weighted
with a nifty strip of lead –
sadly, most of those got stolen,
and sold for scrap instead!

Next, the tub for glass and metal,
with black lid to hide the beers
(but, bad news for alcoholics –
the lid always disappears).

The plastic bag is cumbersome,
(though the plastic bottles are light).
It looks like some alien egg sack
when you drag it out at night.

Last, the black bin – it’s enormous!
You could fit a whole body in there.
Once you’ve recycled everything else
this bin should have room to spare.

Now they’re slumped like weary soldiers
(slightly soiled around the rims)
but they’re trying to save the planet –
the seven dreaded bins.

Twinkle-toes

Humour 2 Comments

I’ll tell you a secret
that no-one else knows –
beneath my desk
I’ve got twinkle-toes!

The office dress code
says sensible shoes –
so my toenails rebel
with outrageous hues:

Sparkling Garbage,
Space Cadet,
Bubble Bombshell,
Lawless Red,

Devil May Care,
Flawless Flush,
Purple Poodle,
and Lucky Duck.

So, my job may be dull,
but my toenails are bright –
I wonder which colour
I’ll paint them tonight?

Eating The Animal Kingdom

Humour 4 Comments

I’m eating the animal kingdom –
alphabetically!
It’s taken a while for me to compile
my edible bestiary.

I’ll have alligator to start with
(will it taste like chicken, or fish?)
A slice of bison would be quite nice, and
then caribou – simply delish!

Some dogfish fresh fried from the chip shop,
a pot of jellied eels,
then maybe some frogs’ legs might hit the spot –
I’ll just have to see how I feel.

Then I could gobble up goose pâté,
wash it down with jugged hare.
Impala steak will be next on the plate,
delicious cooked lovely and rare.

Oh, jellyfish can be chewy (yuck!)
Kangaroo can be too –
but I’m rather keen on lamb, if it’s lean,
and I really enjoy moose stew.

I’ll nibble next on a nautilus,
try ostrich, in a bun.
The taste of pheasant is very pleasant
and quail, though quite small, can be fun.

Rabbit ragu vanished rapidly
(almost scampered away).
I wouldn’t want seal for every meal,
but turkey is more than OK.

I want to try hedgehog cooked in clay –
called urchin, years ago.
Then some venison (sorry, Bambi’s mum –
the yummiest mummy I know!)

Wild boar is a tasty W
but X has set me back –
it’s hard to feast on an extinct beast,
but if I can’t get yeti, there’s yak.

So now I’ve nearly reached the end
of my animal repast.
Just wait a sec for it all to digest –
I’ll save the zebra till last!

Hat Virgin

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The virgin at the wedding,
I never thought that would be me.
But no, I’m not the blushing bride –
I’m the mother-in-law to be.

“A virgin mother?” I hear you say,
“What sort of a riddle is that?”
Listen now, and I’ll tell you –
It’s my first time – wearing a hat.

I’ve never had a head for hats,
I’m a milliner’s despair!
I haven’t got a hat face –
And I don’t want to squash my hair.

A trilby doesn’t thrill me,
A pillbox hat is too small.
And as for those Ascot atrocities –
Veils don’t suit me at all!

But I don’t like fascinators,
They’re for those who won’t commit
To either hat or headband –
And the darn thing wouldn’t sit!

So I settled on a broad-brimmed hat.
I thought I’d look a fool,
But while others swelter in the sun,
Here in the shade – I’m cool.

In Praise Of Older Men

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Did they stop making gentlemen after the war?
There don’t seem to be many left anymore –
men who’ll open a door and say ‘Ladies first’
and walk by the road to shield you from dirt,
who’ll take your coat, and pull up your chair
and kiss you goodnight in a style debonair.
No, I’m not after a sugar daddy,
but it’s nice sometimes to feel like a lady,
an old man’s darling, not a young man’s slave –
between us we’ll rob both cradle and grave!