Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Finer To Take Than To Beg

At first I was vexed
I’m an excellent host
And his behaviour was tantamount
To that of an ingrate
I leave the best leftovers
And never a stop for a chat
I collared him one day
And asked him
Why he never said thanks
With legs akimbo
Hands on hips
He stares me out and then says this

Why should a mouse show gratitude
For taking what is rightfully his?

Untitled #3

But there was this one time
A few years back
When I was wandering through
The Peak District
Strung out on acid
In genuine belief that my hands
Were made of paint
That was a good time
I remember thinking that
These paths were mine
Untrod by any other before me
The first in a long line
Of Yorkshire’s explorers
That was shattered when I caught
A Coke can hidden
In the fractured road
(Like a Skittle or a Smartie
Found squashed inside your sofa
When looking for the remote
Made more perplexing
Because you’ve not had
Skittles or Smarties for years)
When I caught that
Can of Coke
I thought someone’s playing
A practical joke
On me
I must be
The only person to have trod this path
Obviously I wasn’t
Because I’m walking along a path.

Sunday, 5 February 2012

Untitled #2

Some of you
May or may not have noticed
That I have a tendency to slip, flip
From the prosaic to the poetic
To verse or to converse
To me, they're not mutually exclusive
Now don’t get me wrong
I have great respect, regard and esteem
For simplicity of essence
But reality consists of fractals
Not just perfect circles
Some of you
May or may not have noticed.