The Offending Article

Disclaimer: This poem was not written by the poet of this blog. He has standards.

Ode to Rob

Rob, Rob
You are a knob.
And for the purpose of rhymes,
You're also a slob.

I look at you, sat over there,
Oh how I envy you have no hair!

You're playing some shit on your ukulele,
Oh what a shame you'll never lay....
Eggs!

I must end this poem with a final line,
You asked for steak,
But I just dont have the time!

BOOM!

A response to an insult

Dear Miss Cotton,
I'd quite forgotten,
How rotten
you'd gotten.

You wrote me a poem,
While in my home:
Apparently, the insult dome.
Still... when in Rome...

I'll return the favour,
Commenting on your poor behaviour.
To be your saviour,
Before this gets graver.

You really must stop,
With the insults that pop
from your mouth. So chop
and swap
your words. All the way from the very top.

Don't comment on how I'm bald,
Instead, say you're enthralled,
By the poems I have scrawled
And posted on my blog; fully installed.

For you!

Be nice.
Think twice,
Before rolling the dice
When choosing your words...
Christ!

This has gone on too long.

Picking Cotton

We met at the gigis,
By the meat sarnies,
Your dress was down to you knees,
While I needed the breeze
of the wind between the trees.
These are the details I remember with ease.

I recall I won some cash,
So I decided to splash
out on a flash
looking tank with a slash
in its price. Brash?

I thought not, but you thought so,
Filled with woe,
At the waste of my dough,
My seeds thrown without the sow,
No investments I'd only blow.

Now I feel I know you better,
Although the eyes get wetter,
At the mistakes I make,
The risks I take,
Trying to be nice,
Listening to your advice,

On how I can be that happy medium.

I'm Seeing Someone

The term is puzzling.
Illogical.
I see my mother most days,
But I certainly wouldn't.

I'm not... whatsisname.

The Austrian.
With the windows.

No!

Without.

In this modern age,
It is the done thing,
Leaving some at a disadvantage.

Stuck in the past.

A la mode.
QUOI?

Who on Earth thought this offers the same romance as dating?
Going out?
Being in a relationship?

Shakespeare, Byron, Keats.
They are all rolling in their graves,
Like a synchronised deceased dancing team.
Their lessons have not passed on to us, clearly.

'Oh no, I'm seeing someone'.

I can barely bring myself to say it!
My voice fills with scorn when I make the attempt.
A ridiculous name for a ridiculous concept.

I really am stuck in the past.
A past I was never a part of.

How ironic.

Dating and the Third World

The newsflash scrolls across my eyes:
"Drought Hits Africa."

I understand, dear Africa.

I myself am experiencing a drought of sorts,
Of warmth and love and tender flesh.
Of long, enduring glances,

Romantic and clichéd.

The dry season has been too long and I truly think I can empathise.

I do not mean to offend, dear Africa.

It is not life or death, like you.

My children, however, suffer too.

"Starvation in African countries reaches record numbers."

The swollen bellies of the children on the report,

They remind me of the swelling of my...

Desperate for the release from their suffering.

They need a successful date,

Even a one night stand.

Pushing morals aside to do what must be done.

For you, dear Africa, help is easier.

Noone judges your looks in order to give you aid.

You do not have to endure dancing in town,

without alcohol,

A sober penguin on land,

In order to impress.

If only girls used libraries to connect.

Swap digits.

Silence and the written word,

Speaking in volumes.

Star signs

The long, flowing, chocolate locks:
The key to my heart.
The eyes; deep pools of rich mahogany:
The wealth of my soul.
The curves, of smile and of hips,
Bring the warmth to my lips,
As I smile in return,
To the girl that I yearn
for.

In women, we are told we find humour threatening,
But in this...goddess,
It only makes my thoughts better in
My mind,
My body,
My soul.

The laughs and hard-won emotions curl around my person,
A protective shroud perfect for a crab.
This fish knows life is better under the sea,
Perfect for me.
And you.

The moon has taken Cupid's mantle,
Sweeping us together in the tides,
In a mad rush of spray and delight,
Never have I been more thankful to the night.

Creative Writing monologue for Y10

Wrote this as "what a good one looks like" in 10 minutes or so, have since looked at it, considered it's worth as an actual piece of writing, so thought I'd post on here... Enjoy

CONFLICT

It always seems to end this way. Me, inside my own room, thinking to myself about how unjust this is. She never has to go through what I do. Sometimes I see myself as being stronger and more resilient than her, but it never matters in the end. She never gets the punishment. Just me. I don’t want people to think I’m being unfair, or unkind. I love my sister. She means everything in the world to me. I think her behaviour is disgraceful, bordering on evil; I would never be that bad. What she does is unforgivable, but it’s not her I blame. It’s them.

The old people.

They look at me like I’m some dirty piece of mud that has become stuck to the bottom of their shoes. The shoes of the righteous. The shoes of the dictators, more like. While she just carries on behaving as though she couldn’t set a foot wrong. The second coming perhaps. She could walk on water in their eyes, complete feats of impossibility. Me, I barely put one step forward, a great accomplishment in my state if you ask me, and I get told off. It’s not YOUR turn to walk, it’s your sister's…

She even has more drama than me. Her tears works are second to none, she would do well to invest in waterproof mascara, but I think that just adds to the effect.

They’re fools. They fall for it every time.

Wait, what is she doing in my room? Mum? Dad? Why are you putting her in here with me?

Play nice. PLAY? NICE? With her? No, I don’t want her in my room. Please don’t leave me with her. You’re my mum, my dad! How can you do this? How can you turn a blind eye to the bruises, the marks? Don’t go.

Please.

But they do. And I roll in my cot, begin to wail, and wait for the pain.