I like to write whatever comes out of my mind. I’m gathering some of these for a new book – The Worst Poetry Ever Written. I classify these as absolute shit! And will update intermittently. When I get to 100 I will self publish on Amazon, let’s see what happens.
I’ve got a little dog called Trixie; she shits all over my lawn.
She laughs before I pick it up and jumps around until it’s dawn.
Trixie always looks for cuddles and licks my face as I yawn.
She loves to dance! And sings a barking song – while waking up our neighbour John.
She farts and runs into the kitchen; her breath smells like a dead prawn.
But in the end, we laugh and smile – at our little Yorkie dog.
My wife, she points her finger and flaps the tea towel around.
I stick my head through the window and tell her to calm down.
The neighbours think we’re crazy.
The kids give out a shout!
The dog and cat shit and fart as we try to make out.
She gives me lists of things to do and moans when I’m not listening.
What does she expect after 40 years of living?
My teenage sons, they actually stink!
They piss me off
and talk obscenities
which makes me want to shout and drink.
They eat all the biscuits and leave their shit in the sink.
They expect us to wash up after them – what the hell do they think this is?
They moan about nothing.
They bring their girlfriends over on the cheap.
They swear about something or nothing and wear their socks for seven stinking weeks.
But then I remember,
I was just the same.
So, I will wait until they piss off to university
as the wife and I have a wild fucking party!
Jumping around in our Primark dressing gowns.
The internet of shit!
I use it every day;
Combining digital enterprises like a big pair of tits.
I know, stop it, let’s come up with a plan.
We might as well run around like Iron Man.
I engage in conversation every single day.
It’s the only way to stay human with words of simple play.
Tell me your story, and I will tell you mine;
then we can be quiet and converse with our tiny minds.
I’m working on the vegetable patch planting potatoes and delicate amethyst onions.
She finds me, smiles and tells me her plans.
I agree and ponder about how the carrots will look in the sunshine.
The Invisible Rabbit
Carrots make a lot of noise,
crunching and pointing with all their orange joy’s.
Carrots! They take too long to grow, and the rabbits nick them – I think, but no one really knows.
My first love was a woman of gold platinum hair.
She cared; she did things beyond repair.
I saw her future awakening while asleep.
I knew she wouldn’t change her habits;
I might as well have spoken to a rabbit.
I left her for a different road and found her again as the years arose.
My dream had come true but not with me but with a different rose.
Pain Of Love
Shelter me from the pain of love,
a hurt that cannot be measured,
especially if the laws of the universe demand it be undone.
Let me out
Sometimes I lookup
and think to myself –
LET ME OUT!
I hate commas.
I think they really stink.
They leave their shitty flicks like a dirty, smelly trick.
I don’t like the way they look
and I shan’t use them in this worst book.
Well! On this poem then –
Vanilla Ice Cream
I purchased one soft, vivid ice cream.
It melted on my hand.
I licked it off and tasted the salt from my sweat glands.
The screaming seagulls
We bought this pub and called it – The Screaming Seagulls.
At the time we thought it was going to shoot us to fame, but after a while, we realised it was just fucking lame.
The locals just wanted to get pissed! We found kids taking a shit in the bin, and old men queuing up for JohnSmiths – Ewwww,
What a pathetic sin.
So we sold it, and that was it.
We bought a campervan and didn’t miss a fucking thing.
A word underused;
a word that’s abused, so small, yet a powerful beckoning of call;
a word remembered by all.
What makes me laugh when fighting in a brawl
is the fact the speaker doesn’t understand
that in the 21st century
this word has changed and enters into a new plan.
To be blunt and to the point;
to use the word Cunt!
Means not a lot
It means you’re stupid;
It means you’re slow;
It means you’re foolish;
or a nonsensical looser, I prefer.
That’s why It’s my favourite word.
I use it every day
while making sense of my play
by reminding many people that on this day – they’re a Cunt!
To put it bluntly, it makes me feel out in front.
So, the next time someone calls you a ‘Stupid Cunt!’
A Foolish Cunt!
Or a bastard Cunt!
They simply don’t understand the modern meaning today,
which puts you in a position of all-knowing
that the speaker is simply a CUNT!
I just sent a text message.
It was rather quick.
Now I’m waiting for hours – for a stupid, shitty reply.
I’ll send a smiley.
Still with no reply, as yet – I might dress up as Batman instead.
I would better off making cheese on toast
and having a little pet.
This may put me out of misery, did someone find me dead?
I finally got a response from that text I sent last week.
I can’t be bothered to reply, make her wait for at least two weeks; make her cry.
Hello! Thanks for the text, I’ve been busy with life and putting up a tent.
Now I’m free for a coffee or a drink with you in my shed?
If it’s sophistication, you’re after? We can pop to a wine bar or a club.
I can do anything; it depends on what you really want?
I never did get a reply.