The tree is man-made, the gifts are fake,

The carols make my stomach ache.

I hate the crowds, the forced-up cheer,

The noise that fills this time of year.

The sales are loud, the hype is worse,

Everyone's lost in some gift-giving curse.

The cookies? -Too sweet! The songs? -A "bore"!

I’d rather be locked behind my door.

So skip the cheer, and ditch the mess,

I’d...

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That is no session for old men. The young

With lithe legs and arms stretch like sapling trees

We, flailing generation whose Latin songs

Fail inflamed and arthritic joints to ease

We began at eight, it’s now ten, how long

Before one amongst us succumbs, and dies?

Caught in that sensual music all wrecked

Monuments of years of bad neglect

An agèd man is but a tragic ...

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This  limerick wants to be a humorous reminder to brush off the negativity and unsolicited opinions that others throw your way. "There’s a way past the arse and down the back" is a metaphor for letting criticism slide right off you, without letting it stick! In a world full of judgments, it’s a reminder that the only opinion that truly matters is your own. Let it slide and keep moving forward!

...

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This limerick plays with the idea that expertise isn’t always the key to success. After all, the ark was built by an amateur, and yet it survived, while the Titanic—crafted by professionals—met its doom. With a humorous twist, it reminds us not to despair at being an amateur, as even the experts can falter in the face of fate. The lesson? Sometimes it’s the passion and drive, not the credentials, ...

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In a world where you can't escape judgment, this limerick tries to dive deep into the absurdity of trying to please everyone. Even if you perform the impossible—like walking on water—someone will still find fault, questioning your intelligence and abilities. With a touch of irony, this piece wants to highlight  the endless nature of criticism and the futility of seeking universal approval. It’s th...

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On The Village Outer fringes

Lives the legend Rocketman

If it burns, explodes or singes

Pyrotechnically, he’s your man

His potting shed’s a bomb store 

He goes there when he chooses

To stack the shelves and fill the floor

with gunpowder and fuses

He plans every Guy Fawkes night

By astrophysics and geography 

Filling the sky with sound and light

And aerial chor...

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Get yourself a lump of marble

Twenty feet by six by six

Borrow a set of chisels

Or buy them from Screwfix

Empty out your garage or outdoor store

Of furniture and kids’ bikes from ceiling to floor

Grab yourself a mallet

Michelangelo liked wood

And get stuck in whilst listening to Johnnie B Goode

With every blow you will release

The body shape within

From a...

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Dong was a song

that Fung the dog sung

Moke was a joke

that Poke the pig spoke

the Ked, a book that was read

is what Uncle Ned said

so Uncle Ned

his dog Fung

and his pig Poke

did Dong and did Moke

for the Ked that they wrote

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Just because you can play it doesn’t mean you should

I’m talking about After the Goldrush or Before the Flood

or anything by The Eagles, Paul Simon and Stormzy

Keep these artists separate from your ukulele

Just because you know the words don’t mean you can sing

Paul Rogers is Bad Company, leave Fields of Gold to Sting

Give Roy Orbison numbers a miss

Don’t kid yourself you...

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I went on holiday

so I thought I’d pack

I put in my head

I’d be needing that

I packed my arm

because where’s the harm

so too my toes

not forgetting my face

oh, my other arm too

went into the case

better take my legs and feet

they’re important indeed

I added my hips

and my ‘you know what’

well you never know

I might need it or not

...

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When Lee Dixon opens his cliche cabinet,

We’re havin' it.

It was a game of two halves

The lad’s put in a shift

You couldn’t write this script, that’s a gift

Get in there my son, go on my boy

The phrases flow, sucked of joy

He pulls rabbits from hats

With consummate ease

He’s a mangled mouthed magician

Can’t you see?

His left foot’s just for standing ...

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In this dungeon, dreary and rank
With surgeons tools, hooks and saws
And bits of animals, teeth and claws
A slab of old marble covered in blood
With needle and thread to sew if I could

In this dungeon,  dark and dank
With power and coils and much electricity
I'll strive to create life in my eccentricity
Limbs put together not quite in place
The brain is quite small, I've left too much s...

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Friday at last, speed home from work
The flights tomorrow, few drinks a perk
It's that time, hurray! it's come round at last
But now i'll have to pack and make it fast
I'll pull the cases from the loft space
Unzipped and clean, put ready in place
I open the drawers and tip out all the clothes
Where's my favorite T shirt, God only knows
Three shirts, a tie! A jacket quite light
Not w...

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I’ve got my eye on a bungalow

now I’m ageing fast and living slow

not much to do, nowhere to go

A remote-controlled garage door

An en-suite on the ground floor

These are the things I’m looking for

My rosy afterglow

I’ve got my eye on a bungalow

Where I can unwind, go with the flow

Touch the roof it’s only low

A resin drive that’s easy to clean

No moss, no weed...

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Two stones banged together 
To create a misplaced spark
Forget about the weather
Never mind the dark
Harnessing that fire
Gave Neanderthals a thrill
They could build a funeral pyre
And keep out the Ice Age chill

Down countless generations 
The flame remained intact
As in various locations 
Wood was splintered, split and stacked
By Maasai on the Kenyan Plains
In Uluru’s mystic glow
...

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Teetering on the platter

A treat for human senses

It’s food to make you fatter

Crushing all of your defences

Its snowy dunes and hollows

Of flouncy sweet meringue

Are made for ample swallows

Of dessert sturm und drang

Ignore it at your peril

Its appeal you can’t deny

When hunger makes you feral

Reach for lemon meringue pie

Its gaudy citrus layer

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In a castle on a promontory above a rocky cliff

As the sun sinks down the poets come to carouse and rhyme and riff

Chaucer riding on a dappled horse escorts the Wife of Bath

Johnny Clark smokes with Betjeman who complains about the staff

Shakespeare’s musing in the corner

Working out an obstinate sonnet

Emily Dickinson hides shyly in her cloak and starched white bonnet

Donne, ...

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The bike are riding two by two 

Hurrah hurrah 

The bikes are riding two by two 

Hurrah hurrah 

The bikes are riding two by two 

It’s the Highway Code, but I own the road 

So Ill just keep driving on 

The bikes are now riding three by three 

Oh shite oh shite 

The bikes are now riding three by three 

Oh shite oh shite 

The bikes are riding three by three

As ...

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The greatest trick the devil ever pulled 

Is making the world believe he doesn’t  exist 

I don’t know why but I don’t agree 

Let me explain I have an idea you see 

Conspiracy theories is fuel for his flames 

Brexit, traffic jams and gossip entertain… 

His hoards and minions cheer and go wild 

All waiting for the day that Johnson’s defiled 

With a rod up his buttocks fo...

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The trick of the cup and ball 

Starts with a vanish and reappearance

From oranges, lemons and even a baseball

Teleport to a cup, that the audience cheer 

The magicians face says it all 

No wonder magic is a great career 

But instead of stopping he continues the act 

As he is now handcuffed, bound and strapped.

He repeats the words that makes himself... vanish once more...

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Wonka land 

Have you seen the land of chocolate 

Just £35 from your own wallet 

Promises of wonkas factory delight

But actually it’s a cooperate warehouse of shite 

Ompa lumpars are large not tiny 

I look and stare and think christ almighty. 

Is it not Wonkaland? but another place 

As I think of an excuse to this disgrace

Willy Wonkas now here and he’s complete...

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Skeletons Tell Terrible Jokes

Zombies shuffled aimlessly with heads tipped to one side

The phantoms rattled chains and flung transparent cloaks out wide

The vampires swooped theatrically as they are wont to do

And ghoulish forms materialised in pools of dipping goo

“Wait everyone,” the skeleton interrupted, “I’ve got a joke

Spectres paled spectacularly, their colou...

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If dogs were made world leaders

There would be no futile wars

And laws and treaties would be signed

With inky prints of paws

Chihuahuas and Alsatians

Would respect each other’s space

There’d be no United Nations

Just a favourite sniffing place

Summit sessions would be held

In playing fields or parks

With flashing collars de rigeur

For meetings after dar...

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