Saturday, 16 July 2011

The Kludge


Amazed at all 
those efforts cobbled

although at times
so slightly wobbled

every piece 
from here and there

eventually quite debonair

Partial misfits hand in hand

secured in place 
with rubber band

masterminded 
whiz kid theme

a knack enabled
brilliant scheme

The best that could be
done back then

in seeking scores
ten out of ten

a plan to win not ever fudge

produced this way out
super kludge

Monday, 11 July 2011

The Connoisseur


A mastermind of actual fact

proven sound and most exact

Adept without apology

Exemplar prime oenology

Palate palette perfect ear
Through any season every year

A guardian keep procrustean
From the remnants of combustion

Friday, 8 July 2011

The Toady



Beware the dulcet slithering sort
whose sneaky speak will praise contort
in camouflage this twatterbox
will oily prise your inner locks

Each turn of phrase and uttering
your eardrums slyly buttering
with velvet air this couch compose
will gloop and gunk your mild repose

Think twice, when they, your shell intrude
their flawed unseemly chat denude
stand firm resist such flattering
as nothing more that twattering

Wednesday, 6 July 2011

The String - In Theory

Picture Link


The helpfulness of cord and string 

binds everything we do

for tying tight and tethering

whether lacing boot or shoe

Guitar piano violin

choral vocal chord we sing

packages more safely cased

when bundled up with string

Bottles jars objet d arts

more delicate when laced

towing trucks and motor cars

strongly platted and well placed

It may seem elementary

this rudimentary thing

in theory nanoscopically

everything is string


Monday, 4 July 2011

Ciggies with Josie




I hear they’re wanting smoking back

allowed in pubs and clubs

to revitalise our social scenes

laid waste by smoker snubs

It seems our smoke dependants

with their ashtray and their butt

have left too many empty seats

all pubs and clubs will shut

Our venue’s once so full of fun

left despondently to sag

by demanding all the smokers

nip outside to have a fag



For crying out loud the smoker coughs
it contravenes our human right

our only pastime idle pleasure

maybe one or two each night

We don’t care that smoking kills us

everyone must surely die

We know tons of healthy puffers

who buck the trend and death defy

So leave us puff our poison pipe

amid the throngs and masses

bring atmosphere to every hall

with clouds of nicotine gasses