Limerick No. 16

Five men stooping out of a pub,
Had lots of beer and little grub.
Only one, it was said,
Made it to his bed.
The others woke up in a bathtub.

Clerihew VII

Sean Connery
Is a bit of an anomaly.
Began with a unprecedented bond,
To a league that makes me despond.

Sunday

Walk a thousand times to the same place
And you still might never see the owner's face.
Every time he just waits behind the last close door
That you never walk through, just stare at the floor.

What is all this clanging and singing for?
Is this just another self-gratifying bore?
What are you looking for anyway, in this house?
You might look like a lion but squeak like a mouse.

Come on, take that step off the cliff,
Play that new, frightening, pulsating riff.
Open your eyes to a love that you came to find,
Turn your gaze on that which gives sight to the blind.

Clerihew VI

Thomas Hobbes,
Gives power to snobs.
Maybe not entirely fair to say,
Since a lot of his ideas are quite grey

Destiny

Leftovers of a cigarette melting away,
Pavements become an ashtray.
Joining in the chorus of sold magazines
Makes barely enough money to buy sardines.
There they go, all of them,
From head to toe
All of them.

Move

There is an end to every trail

But where do they lead to?

After a while bread gets stale

And patience pays it's due.

So, does motion really pay off

Or is it just the ambition of a toff?

No motion doesn't get you far

You got to put some friction on the tar.

City Life

The hilltop has an amazing view.
The opportunities are too few
To behold this amazing sky.
Not enough attempts to try
And getting to the summit.
Walking on the cement
Day in and day out
Seem to be my fate.

The Inescapable Truth of Climbing

Who is tired now?
After all that sleep.
You have to be
Awake to see the sun.

Don't raise your brow
At concepts too steep.
Something in me
Might release the gun.

Easter

It was when the ultimate deity
Played a little symphony
And went ahead and died for me.

Track

The tricky thing is to stay in beat,
To walk and stay on your feet.
To remain in syncopated time,
To use an appropriate rhyme.
So that you don't start writing completely off track.

X

I'm bored.

The generation sighs.

The chord

Of a muffled cry.

Eat

Morning glory at it's best.

The bacon is put to the test.

As it travels from room to room

The fragrance of it's impending doom.

Noon feeds into the day,

With sandwiches on a tray.

Simple little pleasures with tea,

"Is that a packet of crisps, I see?"

Evening sun brights the sky,

The oven has cooked the fish dry.

A hard days work topped with beer,

And chips to go with all the gear. 

Writ'

Writing is a peculiar skill.

It can warm and it can chill.

Like a good French wine,

It may better with time.

Look

Follow
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you're
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Limerick No. 15

A man may find that in Glasgow
There is a most peculiar show.
Around the corner
There's a stoner,
Who will reap what he will sow.

Clerihew V

Guy Fawkes,
Was surrounded my dorks.
Just have to set a simple building alight,
But instead you die without even a last rite.

Century

Gong! It always starts with a noise.

A massive clatter to let people know

That there is a new kind of poise.

The seed has a new ground to sow.

Ever ongoing is the licence to shout

When novelty has come about

And shown it's embryonic face.

A massive clatter to let people know

Recreates the humble beginnings

Of all that effort you carry in tow.

All that aspiration for all those winnings,

Must account for some currency.

Now the thing has a sense of urgency,

Now begins the good race.

That there, is a new kind of poise

Since we can't keep repeating.

To keep the attention of young boys,

You need to sow what your reaping

And recreate that old hat

To appease the spoiled brat.

Never look back at the trace.

The seed has a new ground to sow

But will the plant look much the same?

Are all the eyes down below

Still attentive to this little game?

It's become more than recreational

They all need to be co-operational

And give you a fat embrace.

Ever ongoing is the licence to shout

And moan about the ongoing chore

But not everyone knows what it's about

Since it's lost in ancient folklore.

As long as you keep your head on

Look at the track you need to stay on

And just watch this space.

When novelty has come about

And replaced with a stale taste,

Then get your plans and make a rout. 

This has not been a waste!

Just look at what has been done

All those obstacles that are gone

And have been folded into a case.

And show it's embryonic face

You remember why you started

When you go back to the birthplace.

When plan and action departed

All of it began to happen

No longer imagined

And just watch this space.

Limerick No. 14

Can you have too much to drink?
Can a fart have a too intense stink?
Maybe so,
I don't know,
If you follow a thought of do before think.

Rain

When it rains everyday
The sun comes as a surprise.
The clouds simply speak
Of a story veiled behind themselves.

Life can be a little ashtray
With a unhealthy nicotine treatise.
A cough for every freak
Is stored on all cancer shelves.

When it rains everyday
The sun comes as a surprise.
When pains go away
That's where hope lies.

Clerihew IV

Clive Staples Lewis
Suffered a few bruises.
Some from the greatest of wars,
And others from the greatest of bores.

Light

A hall where my sole company is an echo.

The black is a very comforting home.

My thoughts, from myself only, I can borrow

Produce a slightly one-sided tome.

Far off there is a little light for hope,

Perhaps the end of a tunnel?

Actually just a star. No help to cope

With a endless funnel.

And then there is a light!

Limerick (Not really) No. 13

Thirteen is a number, apparently unlucky.
On the thirteenth a man found some bucky,
When found on the ground
Hardly making a sound,
Luck had little to do with the error of the rookie.

Quote

Who would write that
One amazing one-liner!
The one that could be
The evr'lasting old-timer.

The chance to bat
Your name into history.
A quote that they see
A name with that belongs to me.

Morning

Two in the morning,
She was sitting alone.
Three in the morning,
She was cold to the bone.
Four in the morning,
She lay down on the stone.
Five in the morning,
The last breath was gone.

Diddle Widdle

Time to write a rhyme.
Too lame to bestow fame.
But fine for a wee chime.
Very much the same game,
As other days forays.

A Poem

Who could possible try
To imitate Stephen Fry?
(This is not quite a clerihew
But for my purposes will do.
I'm trying to stay up to date
With my poem quest and rate.
Since once this is done I'll have
Succeeded against a surmounting wave.
The rhyme and rhythm is a little off,
But hey, I'm not a poetic toff.
I can't really keep the syllables right
And my diction is entirely tight.)
Who could possible try
To imitate Stephen Fry?

Clerihew III

Karl Marx
Always barks.
Even when he lay in a grave,
He found there was still a day to save.

Simples

Simplicity is a complex plaything.
How to make one chord ring
Like a thousand bells chime?
How to make length a crime?

A Brave Man

A brave man once stood alone
On a wet, cold cobbled stone.
He proclaimed a truth monotone
And now this man is gone.

Limerick No. 12

A man used to like looking at a duck.
So much so, he began to call it Buck.
He was shocked
His world rocked,
When he saw the naughty thing ----

Listen!

Ah, listen! For I have something amazing to say!

Let all the whispers and attention die down,

And let all others keep their thoughts at bay.

Listen! Proclaim it in every single town.

These words I am about to speak will fascinate,

Emancipate and manipulate all your senses.

All your worries will flee and eradicate,

Words that will give your mind new lenses.

Come! Come closer to this humble stage,

And find a truth that will intoxicate the mind.

Such that can not be written on a page,

Such that no novel or text could bind.

Don't promise something you can't keep,

You might find the drop may be to deep.

Hand-Made Day

There is nothing that could say
Something that would make me pay
For that diverse, cute, little array
Of my hand-made day.

In Glasgow

She doesn't seem to find much sun, in Glasgow.
Instead a handsome gun, in Glasgow.

There is little a man really needs
When he finds some fun, in Glasgow.

There are many an ancient blade,
That made it's enemies run, in Glasgow.

You know where the nearest hospital is?
Someone's beating the battle drum in Glasgow.

Haiku II

Every syllable
In the English language
Given scrutiny.

Clerihew II

Charlie Sheen
Had never been
To a place where no one knew his name,
Since he tweeted them before he came.

Holiday

Sometimes things begin with a planned end,

Without necessarily considering the next bend.

And when circumstance draws it's ugly head

Then reluctance can find it's homestead.

Perseverance finds a nemesis in deserved rest.

Simple friend of man can not always be to his best.

Endeavours may loose the thrust on which they're built,

But some may return if amply motivated by guilt.