Category Archives: Poetry

Sweet, Sweet Coffee


hot, dark, smooth and rich
not a man depicted, but
a wond’rous bev’rage

mysterious the
stimulation effected,
and focus improved

no other tonic
can replace it in my heart
except, of course, tea

Advertisements

Ode to a small engine automatic car


Driving up a hill,
unexpectedly drops down
into second gear.

Seriously? What
the hell was that all about?
40? In second?

By dropping down, you
lost all the power you built,
and just make more noise.

Good fuel consumption
does not excuse the fact that
I now drive angry!

To reduce stress, that
was the reason I bought you!
Stupid, stupid car!

National Poetry Day


In honour of National Poetry Day, here’s my favourite EVER poem – reproduced here from memory (therefore excuse any spelling errors of words that were nonsense to start with!).

I love this poem, I’ve known it by heart since I was 12. It has all my favourite things, nonsense, fun and a bit of violence! ¬†Hooray!

JABBERWOCKY by Lewis Carroll.

’twas brillig and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe
all mimsy were the borrogoves
and the mome raths outgabe.

Beware the Jabberwock my son,
the jaws that bite the claws that catch.
Beware the jub jub bird
and shun the frumious bandersnatch.

He took his vorpal sword in hand,
long time the manxome foe he sought.
So rested he by the tum tum tree
and stood a while in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood
the Jabberwock with eyes of flame
cam whiffling through the tulgy wood
and burbled as it came.

One two, one two and through and through,
the vorpal blade went snicker snack.
He left it dead, and with it’s head
he went gallumphing back.

And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms my beamish boy!
Oh frabjous day, calloh callay.
He chortled in his joy.

’twas brillig and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe
all mimsy were the borrogoves
and the mome raths outgabe.