A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Cheeky little blighters,
silent enough to slip unspoken
through the tightest security.
helping us laugh, chuckle, giggle,
forget our troubles for a short while.
Collect them, select them,
a pride of nouns,
a mischief of misdemeanours,
a wholesome snicker of double entendre.
whispering undying love,
lifting spirits, breaking hearts.
Essential little hand tools
for describing, explaining,
trying to fathom
the beauty and the mystery of life.
weapons on the lips
of politicians and presidents.
The potential to heal scars,
stop wars or cause them,
build empires, obliterate countries,
save the world
or destroy the planet.
Words, black as tadpoles,
ubiquitous as death.
Doing a Hobbo!
Doing a Hobbo,
what does it mean?
The expression implies
that your brain is not keen
enough to come up with
a quick, witty remark,
needs time to reflect
before making its mark.
reflection, some thought,
then with a deft flick,
the ball's in your court.
A short, pithy poem,
it quickly transpires
is bang on the money.
That's doing a Hobbo,
it is happy, not triste,
then, just as you're chuckling,
you are caught by the twist.
A bashful optician
sought a noted beautician
to alter the shape of her chin.
When he hinted at sex
in exchange for free specs,
his career was consigned to the bin.
Choosing a poetry book
This even sounds pretentious
but, I've heard her name before.
She uses lots of long words,
yes, I thought so, Radio Four.
I like the look of this, though
inside the profane language
is enough to put me off
my cheese and pickle sandwich.
There's stunning imagery in this,
his book's in with a shout,
let's be really honest though,
what the heck's he on about?
This looks mmm, promising,
full of simile and metaphor,
worth a little browse,
removal of my sweater for.
This girl with plain cover
is all about the birds
and bees in graphic detail,
and pictures too, my words!
With reference to the classics,
this chap is very clever
and would make a good impression
if I wanted to, however
here's one, been misplaced
hiding in the section, Various,
a snip at twice this price
and the poetry is hilarious,
The beautician's queue
Never before had there been at the door
such a queue for her beautician's parlour,
jumbucks wanting tucks, beak-straightening for ducks,
dietary advice for a tubby koala.
A blue-grey Shar-Pei feeling less than okay,
needing botox to sort out his wrinkles,
shells that had swelled and misshapen as well,
the complaint of some small periwinkles.
A tiny bush baby was wondering, maybe
if her eyes were just quite the right shade.
whilst a seal with a deal to much tusk to eat eel
was having prosthetic ones made.
A tiger, well frightening, had asked for teeth whitening,
a hippo, to flatten her ears,
an elephant had had a super nose job,
a dear, the best spheres in Kashmir.
Three bumblebees and an old chimpanzee
wanted hair that was just a touch straighter
and a penguin from Dublin, a fashionable sheepskin
that did not make her look like a waiter.
There were monkeys and donkeys, oxen and foxes,
all forming an orderly queue
for beautician seeing, but no human being,
we're content with our bodies thank you!
A routine procedure
Open them please, open them wide,
don't be afraid, you have nothing to hide.
Never mind miss, I have done this before,
you're not the first dear, in fact, what is more,
I've performed lots of these, each one is the same,
embarrassing, yes, but no need to feel shame.
Soon we'll be through, you'll be wondering why
in front of a doctor you ever felt shy.
A routine procedure, see, we're all done,
completely pain free, now go find your mum.
Nothing to it, a doddle, a breeze, a cakewalk,
with your new lasered eyesight, you'll see like a hawk.