Limerick No.10

Do you like what you eat?

Even if it smells like feet.

Maybe not.

Cook it hot

And run away from the seat. 

Joy

Laugh out loud as praise.

What a strange phrase.

If my joy would ignite

A heavenly delight,

Then maybe I'd consider

To let sorrow wither.

The Call

A boy tries to call a girl,

And a world begins to unfurl.

Should it be a call or a text,

Or in a more natural context?

Should he see her face to face.

Wait for her or join the chase?

A girl tries to call a boy,

Or maybe play him like a toy?

Perhaps just be a little tease

Until inhibitions appease.

Should she see him face to face.

Wait for him or join the chase? 

Improvement

I made a lot of mistakes,
But I'm getting better at it.
What destroys and what makes?
I made a lot of mistakes.
Is it myself or is it snakes?
I loose grip, but the floor breaks.
I made a lot of mistakes,
But I'm getting better at it.

Clerihew

Edgar Allan Poe,
Loved his poetry so.
All about decay, death and ash,
But not less interesting than his moustache.

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien,
Made a world he'd never seen.
Some call it wonder, others tripe,
In photos, though, he's always got an awesome pipe.

Dream

Somewhere in a very strange place,

You might loose your face.

A woman will feel a little strange,

When she finds a rhyme to orange.

Free

Time to roll in the dirt,
Forget about your shirt.
Time to run in the street,
Time to let go of your feet.

The Kingdom

There is a strange kind of paradox,
That offers more than just detox.
Something that's already arrived,
A hope of which you're not deprived.
Also something that's still to come,
When the day is done.

Living by the Sea

All rivers flow back into the cradle of Tethys,

The playground of chaos – the Leviathan’s kiss.

Locked within are stories of a thousand kingdoms.

Bares the convoy of today’s traveller.

The lonesome respite of an old paddler.

Deep to the attack.

All rivers flow back.

The sofa of memories is my hiding place.

The carpet of size – an infinite God’s face.

Sirens dance in aspirations like teasing phantoms.

Fishing for complements in solitude.

No route but a desire to conclude.

What will it be?

Living by the Sea

Loud

Don't just make a silly noise.
Say a word of your choice.

A Chill

There is a chill coming through the window.

He never meant to leave her as a widow.

Old men often have complained about it.

The old dog never learned how to sit.

The room grows colder by each day.

He never learned how to strictly obey.

She told the judge with pretend sorrow.

There is a chill coming through the window.

Haiku No.1

There once was a rule
That related to poems -
And made in Japan

Concentration

Speaking gibberish requires me to concentrate,
But it comes a lot more naturally out of my lungs,
Even though the sceptics may never abate,
When I do what some call speaking in tongues.

Hide and Seek

GIVEWNEIAGHLASEHGSLAGH
ESHJISADTSBJSBASDFFLITTLE 
TWAGANDUAISHGAISFGUHGR
FIDSDSGJSDJNSEJLSTHEDJFGR
BJMSOROHBDGIRCJNRHYMED
EKLEVFIJLGKSJENJVJDEOIEW
SOZJBGIJDDBJJDKFTRAVELIR
WIJDZHBJDSBYOURDZBHIDLS
IFVDJDSBJDMINDFEDSDFXBN
TFSDIJGFJSJFSDGKJFDSIJNDL
HGFDSANDDSBJDSBLHEJNDJF
HDBYOUBJNDJFKBLDEENBDF
JUWILLINDJFINDSFBFIKFBZF

February 13

Egypt has turned into France.

Revolution - let's dance.

It can still happen today.

Apathy hasn't won the day.

Dawn

She travels beyond sight,
To return faithfully.
Daily she is light's delight.

Curry

Curry, you absolute beauty!
Curry, how could I reject thee!

A Not-So-Moral Tale

The audience was absolutely beamin’,

‘Cause the star was completely steamin’.

But the performance eroded,

As the gestures exploded,

And the director began screamin’!

He ran, viciously, onto the unassuming stage,

Pointed out the crucial line of the page!

Felt his authority collapse,

With all the cheers and claps,

And so he let loose and consumed rage.

Out forth came a soliloquy immensely divine,

That later it would have deserved a shrine!

All about human condition,

And life’s expensive tuition,

That the actor wrote it down with his wine.

Later I was told that the player sold the script,

And many a spectator was intensely gript.

But the poor originator,

Ended up as a waiter,

But led a good life, though it was nondescript.

Default Face

The water has settled in the vase.

Storms have paused their case.

Joys have given up the chase.

Sons have not yet begun the race.

Daughters have tied their shoe lace.

Pedestrians resort to their default face.

Restart

Seat your ancient men on novel thrones.

Your statues of living bones.

You see a valley of the dead, silent abbey,

I see a crestfallen army.

Breathe life into this caged up lung.

Can you hear what is sung?

Can you hear what is sung?

Breathe life into this caged up lung.

I see a crestfallen army.

You see a valley of the dead, silent abbey.

Your statues of living bones,

Seat your ancient men on novel thrones.

May the first be last, and the last be first.

The ladder begins to thirst.

Awake what once was alive and well,

Drowning the pits of hell!

Deem this young soul to be prepared.

Old dinners won’t be spared!

Old dinners won’t be spared!

Deem this young soul to be prepared.

Drowning the pits of hell!

Awake what once was alive and well.

The ladder begins to thirst,

May the first be last, and the last be first 

Limerick No.9

In the grand words of Phil Ford –

“Poetry makes me so bored

If you refuse

To always use

The make-up of ancient forts.”

Here I am

Banished from the field that was my home

I’m broken from the dreariness of subtle tones

Oh God, Here I am

Jealousy consumes me to the limit of murder

Brotherless, I try and walk but can go no further

Oh God, Here I am

Different tongues from this tower scatter us

Compatriots stand on top to the limit of trust,

Oh God, Here I am

A weary old pilgrim kneels and kisses the dust

A nation is born out of the old firmaments of rust

Oh God, Here I am

A promise stolen from the lips of a blind father

Treachery is blessed with an escape but can’t go further

Oh God, Here I am

Politicians suffer from an amphibian plague

Brought on by a promising heir, the slave’s sage

Oh God, Here I am

Lust came, deceived me and my cutting strength

She witnessed the depths of my hair’s length

Oh God, Here I am

On the rooftop of my Kingdom I saw and wanted

I got and I murdered and the prophet came and haunted

Oh God, Here I am

I came, I saw, I conquered for a speechless love

They know not what they do, all of the above

Oh God, Here I am

Psalm 112

Alas, I cannot see where this Samaritan is taking me

Been window shopping for a life, endlessly

Cowards, Heroes, Wicked men have their own charm

Dawn only comes upon those that oppose harm
Even in the shadow, the righteous is in Apollo’s sight

Fear in his heart is eclipsed by trust in the Lord’s light

Given choice for my life, my soul begins to whither

Heralded by sin’s success I’ve been tricked to consider 

Impertinence causes me to stumble and stare
Jeering, the enemy offers his pretentious care

Knowing my heart is secure, I will not fear
Loving the Lord, I surrender all without a tear

My legacy will be triumphant over my enemies

No temptress could deter me with her fantasies
Over all, my commitment is to the greatest love
Poetically invigorating me with a dove
Question such authority, a fool I am to do
Restored is my conviction forever in You

So I scatter abroad my gifts to the poor
To see my righteousness forever soar
Under such a blessing my life’s route’s planned
Vexation is not mine, but only for the damned
Wicked men will waste away like paper on the sea
Xanadu, even, would not defeat the zeal in me
“Ye of great faith shall act accordingly
Zeal shall be the mark of those who pass into eternity”

A month

Be it twenty eight days or thirty one,
Many have come and gone.
They draw a hope for anticipation,
To find a home in recollection.

Never going to do that again

Never going to do that again!

So my friend tells his ubiquitous dealer.

“Tell me, what am I to explain,

This shaman is a most exquisite healer.”

Never going to do that again!

The chorus rings out after your Friday.

Einstein might claim you insane,

Expecting a new score from an old way.

Huh?

When would a woman say these words?

Willing, worldly, wonderful, wild, words.

Perhaps plenty of pugilists - pious people

Preach these pathetic, plain platitudes.

Babbling, binge-blathering, bywords

Beam at bemused by standing birds.

Serious sympathies seek this steeple,

This secret stronghold of the subdued.

Limerick No.8

Can’t think of a poem quick?

Want to show your maverick

Side of things?

Just amuse kings

With that cheeky limerick

Job, Chapter One By Alan P Harrison (Guest Edition)

There lived in Uz a man named Job,

Whom of the things of God would probe,

This Job was blameless and upright,

There was no evil in his sight.

His seven sons were tall and true,

God gave to him three daughters too,

With many camels, ox and sheep,

His stature great, his wealth was deep.

Job’s children would enjoy a feast,

Their father thought it was the least,

That he could do to make him sure,

That in their hearts his kids were pure.

There came a day when angels, lo,

Met from above and from below,

To show themselves before the LORD,

Including one whom he abhorred.

God said to Satan, “Where’ve you been?”

He answered slyly, “Haven’t you seen?”

“I’ve been out walking on the earth,”

“To see what there was of much worth.”

And God said proudly, “See this guy,”

“He does not steal or kill or lie,”

“He conducts his life without blame,”

“His upright ways put you to shame.”

The snake replied, “I’ve seen this chap,”

“You’ve stretched his home across the map,”

“A shield of yours protects his place,”

“Remove it and he’ll curse your face”.

And staying in complete command,

The LORD said, “Fine, stretch out your hand”,

“Take some or all of what he owns”,

“But I warn you: do not touch his bones.”

So Satan went and had his way,

Job lost it all one fateful day,

Through violent wind and hateful foe,

This day became Job’s day of woe.

In agony he tore his robe,

But this was not the end of Job,

Instead of thinking himself dead,

He worshipped God and shaved his head.

And through the tears some heard him say,

“The LORD gives and He takes away,”

“I’ll leave my life with nothing stored,”

“Blessed be the name of the LORD”.

But through all this one cannot say,

That Job had cursed the LORD this day,

Though broken his resolve was strong,

And so Job proved the devil wrong.