A Poem…

I was asked to upload an audio file for UNFEST, a local music and arts festival taking place in Tunbridge Wells at the end of May. Having gone to the trouble of making the recording I thought I might as well bung it up here too.

I’ve contributed to Unfest in various ways over past few years, and this year will be reading some of me poems (how very Pam Ayres!) as well as contributing art and words for three different venues. We will also be organising the Now-World-Famous-In-Tunbridge-Wells “Postcards from the Hedge” letterboxes again, offering those attending the festival an
opportunity to get involved themselves.

Anyhoo, here’s the poem. Sorry, if it sounds a bit ‘ringy’ – the Unfest app needed MP3 format, and then Soundcloud appears to have compressed it again.

 

I’m Having a Faaaag. Strawberry Flavoured.

When I was little my mum would give me sixpence for going to the shop to buy her fags. I would become so engrossed in choosing sweets from the long line of jars behind Jack Wilson’s counter that I would lose all track of time. The jars were filled with brightly shining jewels in myriad colours, and sixpence, spent carefully, could garner a whole quarter of pick and mix. Sometimes I spent so long looking that my mum, desperate for her snout, dispatched my older brother to find me and drag me home. I think I might have wet myself occasionally when the excitement got too much…

Today I popped into my corner newsagent to buy a natural yoghurt to enhance our curry tonight. A middle-aged woman was poking through a huge selection box of flavoured ‘vape’ refills. She had a strawberry and a raspberry but couldn’t make up her mind what to spend her next £24.00 on. Twat.
As I typed the above I remembered I had written a poem about the sweet shopping experience. It’s a kid’s poem really, but you might like it. It’s HERE

Some Disposable Christmas Poems…

Christmas is a very disposable time of year – wrapping paper, cards, decorations, used crackers, turkey carcasses, unwanted presents – all manner of things get lobbed into the bin in that great clearout (shush!) between boxing day and New Year’s eve. I’m actually quite fond of “disposable poetry” too, though disposable in this instance means “throwaway” or “off the cuff” rather than junk (though the two, of course, are far from mutually exclusive).

Anyhoo, here are a short selection of Christmas pomes I’ve penned (well, typed – ’tis the 21st century after all) over the past week or so, mostly building on weak jokes or puns I’ve coined on Facebook or Twitter.

ODE TO A SPROUT

A Marmite™ veg, the Brussels sprout
Both cheers and groans when they’re brought out
Yet Christmas lunch seems incomplete
Without some sprout about the meat. Continue reading “Some Disposable Christmas Poems…”

The Creative Process* Revealed…

  • First I thought of an awful Christmas Cracker stylee pun.
  • Then I thought ‘I could make a kids’ poem out of that.’
  • Then I couldn’t be arsed to write the poem so I photoshopped it instead:

know your ants

I may have been bored. The poem will probably come later.

 *Of an idiot

A Bit Late I Know…

But I just saw a video of a porcupine eating a pumpkin on Facebook that inspired a pome for National Poetry Day.

Hem hem…

You shouldn’t feed squash to a porcupineporcupine-clip-art-libertarian_porcupine_8-1969px
It fills them with noxious air
And when they fart
Their spiny darts
Fly every-bloody-where.

Thank you. That is all. Here’s a video of a porcupine eating a pumpkin. The resulting explosion is edited out.