ODE TO THE PLUMBER #31

Ring me for a beer
it is very nice outside
afternoon drinking
is the best past time for us
in the promise of a night

First appeared on the 'zafusy' website autumn 2005

Interested on hearing thoughts on this piece

Keith Hilling

Mr Blackburn cheers for having a go at my poem

it's a tanka (open to argument on that one)

yes it's about summer drinking

and prehaps the lonelyness of the person who drinks to much, ode

being a long relationship with words, tanka a shorter one, it was a text message to a mate...

best..

I really liked your tenka, Keith. It had that stopped sunlight feel -- the one you get when the pangs of loneliness seem to halt time.

Perhaps you can comment on my 2 offerings: one I posted as I wrote it several nights ago -- I've amended it slightly, and another very short 'un.
Be kind!

RESURGAM

My therapist shuffled my chakras
Like they were drink coasters

Now my father's spine leaves the same tread
As that car of mine

And I had theramons installed as burglar alarms.
It spooks fellons because it responds in kind to their every move
and not just generally.

Today, I have woken with a birthmark. It looks like another face
And is slightly to the right of mine.

Cake.
Left for one moment unattended.
I returned to find someone had covered it in grafitti.

Spatial awareness -- accidentally modified by doing origami
Now my chakras are randomised

Oh yes, since being therapeutically mussed,
I only purchase products that promise to mess me up.


AND this one. It's called
OHONE

Omeagre mama wombeye me
impercepience precipinnacled
the first whetted freeforall breath
terminusuckle forageneration
eyeraw bilongings
the memimetic marlentropied nidust
milkernal fleshush in spiritask
O here me omeek me
unherd through the signews cryation
my sun underived ish
palidivine, dam-aged, fust I.
Death ablest unduring.

Apologies, Keith -- I wrote 'tenka' as in the book/tv series 'tenko' instead of 'tanka' as in 'tanka the otterman.'

That's okay. Your collective silences say everything. Sob.

You made me go all ungrammatical you did. I meant 'silence.'

Oh - I thought you were only asking Keith for comments.

I'll take comments from anyone! Keith would be very welcome.

I am sorry to have spread confusion. Blame it on me writing a panto. I have had my brain pushed forwards into December.

Oh no she didn't!

Oh yes she did!

Watch out! - He's behind you!

You've all been very good, so who would like a sweety?

You've won a bag of Swizzles fizzies! And a handful of Harbo jelly pastiches, Lord Count Baron Vizier Chef Tottington -- and you've landed on Park Lane and won that, too.

Ooo Sweeties, if I knew the rewards were this great I would have posted one of my poems on this thread ages ago!

Cayn, you have won sweeties, a toy trumpet, and an adventure comic for boys!

No, no more comics, my parents will kill me if I bring another one into the house!

You're in luck, Cayn, the comic comes with the latest gadgetry that can make it invisible at the push of a button.

But I won't be able to find it to make it visible again :(

I think I best post a poem here at some point to justify my being here!

There are two buttons: one marked VISIBLE the other marked INVISIBLE. As long as you don't lose the gadget you'll be okay. If you do happen to lose the gadget, just blow a few notes on your toy trumpet and the comic will make the same noise back at you and you can locate it like that. Of course, you won't be able to read it, but at least you'll know where it is. But the sweets will send the comic stories into your brain when you eat them.

Participation is justification enough!

Heres my poem to be reviewed, whey!

The Evil Veil

Governments decide who to attack
Once they've finished with Iraq
They move from one illegal war to the next
You'd expect people to get pretty vexed
But over here its a different tale
"That fuckin' bitch is wearing a veil!"
A mad man sits with his finger on a button
Dumb enough to blow us all to kingdom come
Other countries also announce there desire to blow us to bits
This type of behavior should have us all in fits
But on the front page screams the daily mail:
"Sod the bomb, Ban the veil!"
The debate on global warming starts to heat
Plants and animals die, what will we eat?
But the leaders argue and do nothing
And what do we do? Not a thing
Meanwhile the British tabloids wail:
"Save the world-Burn the veil!"
With this land I can't see a future
When the only thing we attack is someones culture
So much going on but we fight petty things instead
We seem more worried about whats on someones head
This attitude people show just doesn't make sense,
Why are we so worried about someones dress sense?
But now its time for us all to come together
With feelings and politics that are a little bit more clever
Black and white, male and female,
Target hate, not the veil.


I appologise for the profanity

I shall gladly accept the Toy Trumpet, Sweets and Comic in that case!

I really like this, Cayn. The fact that you turn the idea of 'the veil' into the way people have their perceptions veiled by dogma and obtuse politics and zenaphobia and biggotry. It's a great piece of reversal -- and the rhetoric is thoughtful, inclusive, precise -- you work the piece through to a very potent and powerful conclusion with real skill. The poem also shows that you're engaged with the ideas: you feel the anger and disbelief that people should be so unaware of their own shortsightedness. The invocation that everyone should come together makes it also seem like a song lyric -- something about the shorter concluding lines, I think. You have a sense of irony, which I should like to see more of -- polemic is powerful but you have the ability to turn it up a notch with genuine wit and deflating humour. I also feel that the poem might work better in two verses, not sure why, I'll go back over it and see if I can divide the piece. A whole year's subscription to a comic for this.

'The debate on global warming starts to heat' is where I'd start the new verse -- it seems to shift focus here. A break would let everyone gear up for a new direction: it's that odd psychology of creating a fresh verse, expectations aren't up and running. The reader invests in a fresh approach, a new way of observing the same subject, a shift in tone and momentum.

What do you think?

It's blooming good, Cayn!

Thanks for the kind words, I am thinking of toying around with performing it in two parts at gigs and the like mainly because it can be a mouthfull when performing!
It's one of them poems which when writing everything seems to fall into place so the original version doesn't have a lot of scribblings out on it, which is always best!

Yes, this would go down really well -- you need breathing space -- the poem would be extremely dynamic in performance so pace would be everything. But can I just make one suggestion? I think it's enough to call it 'The Veil' rather than "The Evil Veil.' I can see why you call it "the Evil Veil' to trick people into thinking it's going to be defamatory about the women's veil, and then you turn the expectations over. I somehow think just calling it "The Veil' adds more surprise when you move into the part about biggotry being a veiled (blindfolded) view of the world. What do you think?

More comics and sweets for you. And a toy drum, too.

I chose the "Evil Veil" title because it lured the ever so slightly bigoted into a false sense of security and bit like Hitlers Birthday Party by Nick Tocseck grabs the attention of the right wing loonies we encounter at gigs from time to time.
Also I remember doing backflips at the realisation that Evil is an anagram (why can't another word be made from that?) of Veil, so it just had to be included, in hindsight though I think I've grown out of that thought!
And a toy drum as well? Fantastic!!

Yes I liked the fact that veil is ananagram of evil -- and I can see the sense in what you're saying. I guess it maybe depends on the crowd? I still rather like the idea that you lull people into an expectation -- and then give them more than they ever expected. The Evil Veil already sets up the dissonance. But, let's face it, this is your poem and you know what it needs. I am just surmising. It packs a punch whatever it's called!

And a toy saxophone, too. And a dead cool jazzhat.

Ah, now for a jazz hat I'd re-write the whole thing!
I've often wondered is it just me or are poets very attracted to hats?

Hats and poets go together like cheese and chutney.

A deadcool jazzofahat, nice.

I hate Chutney :(

Hats and poets -- horses and apples?

An even coolernicerjazzhat

Scared of horses! but I see what you mean!

Little pretend animals that don't look yukky but are designed by someone with an aesthetic sense and something else that is well designed and quality?

Finally someone says it in words I understand!!

That's me to a 't' as in 'tattifalarious.' Straight talking, tea-supping, marsupial patting, plum thumping, train squaring me.

Tea supping is a great past time! Although I dropped a biscuit in my cup today and couldn't get it back out, I was in tears!

Soggy biscuits never die, they merely float away!
What sort was it?

Rich tea!

There you go -- your tea became enriched tea!
Alas soggy bic, it made your tea thick.
The worst ones to plop into your tea are digestives. They make the tea taste weird when they do that. Did you have to get a fresh brew?

Fortunatly no, I just necked it and the biscuit slip gently down my throat forcing me to choke, but it was close!

Ugh! Choking on soggy biscuit mushtea is not a good experience. No wonder there were tears. Have you many biscuits left? You'll need to exercise caution when you dunk those.

There's a website I think I've mentioned before about people making copies of their favourite biscuits -- often much bigger than they usually are. It's called Pimp Your Snack and it's all about personalising your favourite biscuity treat. It's great fun, well worth a look.

I have a few left, I have just scarfed five though before I toddle off to work! Not dunked any since yesterdays horrific experience.
I have heard of that website, but I've yet to check it out due to laziness!

opps, the one time i dont leave my name it says i am an anon

previous commet was posted by me Keith, hello, how's it going?



Keith hilling

Hello Keith,

thank you for taking the time and cheese, I mean trouble, to comment on my shambolic ramblifications. It really is appreciated. And soup! Did you get your organic vegetables? And -- I must ask this to keep a common thread running through this section -- did you dunk your bread into to it? And did some of that bread fall into the soup? Was that a problem?

Hi Moxy

The soup was a rye ale colour; mix of fine herbs collected in isle 9- near the BOGOF tinned tomatoes. I had to navigated the tormented hordes wanting free cheese bites, at the counter I did queue for some three minutes to taste the 'wine berry-monk' a tender dumpling of a cheese, almost as yellow as the bus drivers teeth who drove me home with a round of the stuff, which when making my soup, I did grate over some bread- freshly baked bread made with a wild mead and nettle side; it was a lush tea.
I loved it, and dunk, yes I dunked, lapping the nice soggy stuff until it broke off into the bowl and after lapping the last few drools gave it to my cat, who didn’t like, so I left it until this morning. Then I fed it to three robins, two magpies and a hedgehog. None of which was a problem, although cheese could be cheaper and the magpie didn’t say thank-you.

Hello Keith,

What a scrumptious posting. You truly are The Nourishment Poet!
And your devotion to thankless wildlife should not go unrewarded, either. Animals and birds can just be so diffident, can't they? Snow White was deluded. And cats wouldn't recognise a quality soup if you spent every day training them into soup quality recognition procedures.
I know there's a recipe for stew called Poet's Casserole (there is a vegetarian version -- probably also a cannibal version somewhere) but I wonder how many other recipes actually have the word 'poet' in their title.
Cheese, too, is a wondrous thing when it has been made with imagination. And milk, of course. Have an inspired day and some good food.

Hello Cayn! Any more biscuit mishaps? Should be a poem in there somewhere. I once new a bloke who was personnel manager at a major biscuit manufacturing company. He really wanted to be a poet and an actor and he used to play recordings of Wagner's Ring Cycle and sing along with them. He was word perfect but, sadly, tone deaf. He also loved fancy dress parties and would spend hours applying stage makeup as he got into character. He always had packets of biscuits that he would hand out to people as prizes.

Hello!
There is a poem in there somewhere...hmmm
Sadly I have shyed away from biscuit dunking this weekend due to been so busy at work I haven't had time!
I always used to carry a pack of chocolate cookies round with me a year or so ago, they just seemed so much better than a packed lunch!

"Omeagre mama wombeye me"
Oh yes - yes-yes, yes! YES!
What a great chat up line
It's kinda rude too init.
Or am I being prurient beyond the call..
I'm gonna have a T shirt made out of organic vegetables emblazoned with this slogan!

NO IT IS NOT RUDE, OH KING OF POETRY! It's about being born. Neither an earlier nor a later scenario. Ah but you can still put the first line on a teeshirt if you like. It's papercuts for you, sonny.

Just thought I'd post this while its quiet.

Victim of the NHS
By Cayn White

I went to the hospital for another check up
But they had made yet another mix up
The were only meant to examine my head
But the decided to cut of my testicles instead
I jumped up and down and I screamed in pain
I'm not going to that hell hole again
In between my legs is a bloody mess
I'm a victim of the NHS
I staggered all the way to the hospital reception
I intended to complain about this unlawful castration
But the receptionist smiled and said in jest
"Your just another victim, of the NHS"
Two weeks later I got a letter
Saying "Come back soon if your not feeling any better"
I went back there so they could correct their mistake
Just one injection is what they said it'll take
They came up to me with a massive syringe
A needle that big, I just had to cringe
They said they were going to insert it into my arm
But they missed completely and caused me more harm!
I'm writing this now with a scar on my chest
'Cos once again I'm a victim of the NHS
I couldn't stand any more of this agony
I wanted revenge for what they did to me
I went to court to get compensated
But I left there even more humiliated
The Judge just laughed and threw the case out
And then said calmly, "There's no need to shout,
What happened to you in an every day occurrence
The NHS will never get there come-uppance
Your experience is very common your just like the rest,
Your yet another victim, of the NHS!"

It's never quiet, Cayn!
I really like this (ouch!) it's very funny, and appallingly apt about the inept.
If the NHS was a packet of biscuits, you'd open the packet and it'd all be crumbs. Horribly fab!

Yeah me and the Nhs aren't exactly on good terms, probably even worse now if any doctors read this!
Once again, thank you for the kind words!

Re the words, you're very welcome Cayn. I love your take on the world and the way your poetry handles big issues. Your poems are always humane, pithy, on-the-money (as they say) and they reward any amount of rereading. I really like your poetic voice.

But crickey, it sounds as if the NHS have done you some considerable damage. Hope you're okay now.

I have had some bad experience with the hospital but not as bad as whats mentioned in the poem, I can happily say that my testicles are intact!

Phew! But I wouldn't be surprised if some poor bloke's woken up from general anaesthesia (sounds like a Spanish holiday resort) to find integral parts have gone missing that were never scheduled for the chop. My cousin went in for an op and her body went into shock and she woke up with diabetes. Then she started having panic attacks.

I always thought "anaesthesia" was a Disney character.
Nah the worst I've had happen was when I went in with a bad knee they x-rayed the wrong one, I also got took to casualty when I dropped someting on my foot at work and had to have a needle stuck through my big toe nail, wasn't a pretty thing to watch as I'm scared of needles :(

Attack of the Killer Asylum Seekers

The Asylum seekers are here to destroy our way of life
They're coming to our town; we better lock up the wife!
They'll steal our homes and take out jobs
And pretty soon we'll have refugee music on top of the pops!
They'll be introducing foreign plants into our great British woodlands
Which will soon be ripped up to build more houses for the millions,
Of these illegal immigrants that the sun says are here
It also says that we'll be paying more taxes for them to blow on beer!
Not only will they have our jobs but they'll also have our health care
We'll be waiting longer to be treated for the vile diseases that they brought into this country; I don't think that's fair.
Right, the only thing vile that is currently in this country
Is the revolting sickening disease of your bigotry
You're believing everything you read in the dirty filthy Sun
Which is spewed by the lowest of the low, the journalistic scum
There's nothing much more to say here except smash senseless racial hate
Get rid of the racists now, before it's too late.

Hello, Cayn, apologies --- kept meaning to read this -- will do so properly this evening, so back later with the verbals. Hopefully, you'll have a whole crowd of us by then.

Hello Cayn, oh heck I have taken the liberty of re-arranging your poem to -- hopefully -- make the delivery of its powerful message even more potent. It's fuelled by passion and a sense of justice but in its original form I thought some of the message was getting waylaid by the structure. This version ends more quietly -- I thought the piece was strong enough to finish on a question put to the audience, rather than a statement. What do you think? Have I made a mess of it? I hope not.


Attack of the Killer Asylum Seekers

They're coming to our town
They're going to steal our homes and take out jobs
And pretty soon we'll have refugee music on top of the pops!

Next
They'll be introducing foreign plants into our great British woodlands
And then our Great British woodlands will be ripped up to build houses
For millions of illegal immigrants

That's what the sun says here.
And it says that we'll be paying more taxes for them to blow on beer!
Not only will they have our jobs
But they'll also have our health care
We'll be waiting longer to be treated
For the vile diseases that they brought into this country;
The Asylum seekers are here to destroy our way of life!
I don't think that's fair. Do you?

Right, the only vile things that are currently in this country
Are the revolting sickening disease of bigotry,
The senseless sickening disease of racism,
The shameful sickening disease of prejudice.
I don't think that's fair. Do you?

Hi Cayn,
You have a naturally comedic, good natured voice -- great when you use it to full advantage in your political poems. Here you start off with irony but end in anger and rant, and the anger gets in the way of the message since the poem's originality is suddenly lost. If you can control the theme more, and speak more in and from your own original perspective, then this poem would be a true firecracker: sharp, powerful, and with something new to tell us. Let's hear YOU all the way through.

Hi all, sorry for the late reply but I've had a long week (three performances in one week- may not seem like much to a lot of you but if your a lazy git like me its a daunting experience)
Moxy: really liked your version, it can be worded in millions of different ways and the message remains the same which is why I like the poem,
Ricardo: This is one of my early poems from when I was a bit more serious, I hadn't really found my own voice in my poetry by this point. It is a poem I'm probably going to work on more and bring it more up to date with the attitude I have now.
Also I was trawling through some stuff and I stubled over a punk-fanzine from a while back with an interview with yours truely so I might post that up on here :)
Cheers for your comments!

Hi Cayn, you're very welcome -- it would be great to see the interview, too!

Well I've got to find it again yet!

Look under the biscuits!

That'll take forever!!

Your blanket words

Just those little things
Just the Simple things from friends lips
Simple things and caring quips
But massive the meaning
And hope and life is breathing
For we all need support
sometimes
When faltering vocal thought
Stretches feeling taught
empty rooms can bring us
down
on a tortured lonely hour
we crave
sunny lairs of the soul
to lift us
expecting nothing and shining love
they come.
positive people driving goals
to flower and heal when pain
cleansed from a doubting shoal
of thought
thank our lovers and friends
broken things mend
when you are there
and liquid your care
in biro ink or secret prayer
in positive words
or abscent herds of silence
you just listen.
a comfort in fleecy fabric soft
the crop and the croft
of a harvest
a dialogue of strength
warm you spawn
success
and once again starts
the creative hearts
Such fantastic palettes
Such watercolour valets
you wash out the black
And Streaming, creativity
Dreaming
Healing you hold nothing back
Reassuring, your blanket words
From my blanket friends
And metal mentors strong
Held me up when silent the song
Of comfort stopped
When niggling came the creative block
When peeping toes twitched through sock
When my soliloquy locked
When twirling hair and steeping stair
In doubt, tried stop it all.
My blanket friends held me
Taller, smaller
Gargantuan their intention of love
Even the anonymous never knew
some ,buried ,the depths of deep blue
some shone shining through helping
Those rays of light from windmill eyes
turning
mighty the might of the untied
And the unrequited lover
blanket words smother
rhetorically warmed for you
a thermal palm
a liquid soul
a melted moment
a spectacular goal
Of healing
I am no longer a footprint
But stand before you real
uncovered eyes of the blissfully unaware
for I never told you
you seem sad sometimes
Instilled, the cures you devised
without currency or demand
With one simple and outstretched hand
Your blanket words did warm.


21-7-2007

Peter
For my friends

My kids don't call you Pete the Poet for nothing - can you tell that I'm missing them yet? I'm going to bug you all for next ten days!
Babe this poem is truly beautiful, I know it's a poem of gratitude but the feeling of sadness that you are thanking your friends and suggesting they may be going through permeates (sorry haven't slept - hope that word exists - help Moxy?) through out the piece, as always you use the most interesting and ironiacal connections e.g. lonely shoal, sunny lair. The naturalistic imagery is elegant and sublime.
You normally extend and don't allow the rhyme to end the line but you have done here - and I think it works, the simpleness of the rhyme adds meaning to the more complicated words - gargantuan, sollo...the very beautiful one beginning with s...which is locked - yeah I don't believe I've got a degree in this stuff either - sorry hun - hope you don't mind me throwing my two peneth in.
Like the silent song - very Dylanesque!

Bravo Peter keep penning them poems and making me green from your prolificness!

Much love to you sweetness.
xx

Yikes
thats great Maggie, thanks for the feedback
Its enjoyable to read this one to a bunch of friends

The countdown to caring

We the patients
Secure
Nodding
Nagging
It was all too much on the outside
So easy to slide
Into realms where demons hide
Too much pressure
So they take us away so secure
In a van with a Day-Glo door
No sirens scream
And no blood pours out
Nothing tangible
Except the ever-increasing rotting rout
That quarters the mine like bathroom grout
I shove my fingers in it sometimes.
Here we are all secure
All white coats and demure
And in wings we traipse
In circles straight
And queues
Dragging the burning fuse
We the people you use
We the dirt on paper shoes
We the lost and confused
The temporary stunned
the pilled and the shunned
beloved machines spin round
And what’s inside the machine?
What equation will froth?
From the doctors dissertation dream
Of Uni.
What cure?
from chemical facts, far from puny
Some complex stream some equation
On why in my head an invasion
Took place
And reasons
Stacked on reasons
The domain of the brain
So often a chaotic sound
So many feet glued to the ground
Of the circular ward
And psychotic sounds
Depakote
Give way
Dapakote my dear give way
Green pill
Blue pill
White pill
Monkey trill
May as well be
Modern monkeys
Barred in the mental ward
Barred : a simple walk
In a simple park
And balk
The nurse bitch bark
And stark
The feelings of the caring ones
Contaminated
our own peers
Some worse
Some an institution beckons
Some have been in here for years
Forced to change gears of the mind
Forced to adapt to the unstable kind
And the unforgiving dreams
In withdrawal and I
And piped films flash on TV
A man sites mute next to me
And he utters everything
In one sodden trance.
She spills her food and some pee their pants
In laughter
And lay=ughfter – (intent)
Sinister sometimes
Not quite lchalk white but greasy grime
Of cold food trolley tea time
God knows where they make this food
God knows I’m stripped nude
Naked my thoughts
Sectioned in courts
They hold their own justice in here.
And to escape
Must I prove
That slipping slate of grey
The dislodged thought process system
This display
This display
Before 3 doctors not kings
Before a ticking watch that cruelly sings
The minutes
If we stray off the grass
They pipe up
And its that voice I always here last
A cackling laugh as our heads hit the cast
Of the shadow of sleep
As it rolls in so fast
The chemical kosh
The fruit cake squash
Close your eyes, The countdown to caring

Hey sweetness, found it hard to read this poem - you know about my brother,
It is a very powerful poem and I would like to see you read it sometime - it's very descriptive - I think it's important that people talk about issues like mental health problems. Too many poets shy away from tackling real issues.
well done again - keep writing and inspiring!

cheers mags

may i present my butchery and also extra lines
this is total work in progress
quite a few things i want to do with the pome the main target to condense it to no more then 1.45 seconds to read

however i had some other cuplets just come to mind

ill cut n paste

i see this thread as a virtual workshop

paul?

sorry Paul

Couplets

The countdown to caring

We the patients
Secure
Nodding
Nagging
It was all too much on the outside
So easy to slide
Into realms where demons hide
So they take us away so secure
In a van with a Day-Glo door
No sirens scream
And no blood pours out
Nothing tangible
Except the ever-increasing rotting rout
That quarters the mine like bathroom grout
I shove my fingers in it sometimes.
Here we are all secure
Under the locked door of elctronic guradians
Key code zones and stamped out clones
Of doctors
All white coats and demure
And in wings we traipse
In circles straight
And queues
Dragging the burning fuse
We the people you use
We the dirt on paper shoes
We the lost and confused
The temporary stunned
the pilled and the shunned
beloved machines spin round
And what’s inside the machine?
What equation will froth?
From the doctors dissertation dream
Of Uni.
What cure?
Chemicaly unkind
Leave me alone so chemically unkind
Leave me alone
from chemical facts, far from puny
get back to uni
you don’t know what youre doing
Some complex stream some equation
On why in my head an invasion
Took place
And reasons
Stacked on reasons
The domain of the brain
So often a chaotic sound
So many feet glued to the ground
Of the circular ward
And psychotic sounds
And the demons
They don’t know me anymore
Green pill
Blue pill
White pill
Monkey trill
May as well be
Modern monkeys
Barred in the mental ward
Barred : a simple walk
In a simple park
And bark
The nurse bitch bark
And stark
The feelings of the caring ones
Contaminated
our own peers
Some have been in here for years
Forced to change gears of the mind
Forced to adapt to the unstable kind
And the unforgiving dreams
In withdrawal a barbed shawl that cuts
Prisoners inside and silent
A man sites mute next to me
And he utters everything
In one sodden trance.
We spill our food and pee our pants
As he rants the ridiculous
The interstellar
Conspicuous
Invasion of aliens
Then we look at oursleves
Scared weve been taken over
And were no better than he is
In laughter
And lay=ughfter – (intent)
Sinister sometimes
God knows where they make this food
God knows I’m stripped nude
Naked my thoughts
Sectioned in courts
They hold their own justice in here.
And to escape
Must I prove
That slipping slate of grey
The dislodged thought process system
This display
This display
Before 3 doctors not kings
Before a ticking watch that cruelly sings
The minutes
If we stray off the grass
They pipe up
And its that voice I always here last
A cackling laugh as our heads hit the cast
Of the shadow of sleep
As it rolls in so fast
The chemical kosh
The fruit cake squash
The demons don’t know mre anymore
-------- TRY AND INCORPARATE THESE NEW LINES-------------------------
We the despairing
You the chemically caring
Weed the bed
Weed
The bed
Im routing to it
Routing for it
Wee
The bed
My dignitity is fed on plastic sheets
I despise the laura ashley pleats
Of the free
The untied and the twee
Those ‘itll never happen to me’
Elite
May I present my piss smelling sheets

is this adifferent version Pete? I don't remember the alien thing from the first - I like the first one better. I think the ending is more powerful. I don't know anything about timings babe - me not being a perfomer - how long do one of your usual poems take?
It is a very good poem sweet, a unique viewpoint - I love the analogy of the metal barred monkeys and the barbed shawl is wonderful.
Incidentally I like the word cuplets.

I stared at my cuplets
in some what of a trance
two cuplets
a symbol of romance
maybe we should
add three and four
it seems two are not enough
for love no more
perhaps six and seven will be at the dance
good heavens eight and nine like to prance
me I'm holding out for number ten
hoping this one, can find love again.

Rightio I'm off to me bed as I be visiting the darling town of derbyshire in the morn and I don't want to scare the good people with my craggy face now do I.

Goodnight my handsome prince
I'm going to start calling you the Butcher of Bal'lad,boom boom.
your ever loving toad.

I disagree - I really liked reading the "would be nice to read other poets work"
It was great to read all the poems that were put on - as I don't get to go to that many gigs, it's great for me to see Moxy and Cayn's work - as I probably won't get to see them perform. It's also interesting to see what the other poets think of each poem - as Malcolm says it can be very subjective.
The other thread felt like it was a really supportive community of poets helping and guiding each other - like the WOL events are.
But as I am very new to this and in awe of the greatness - I'll shut up and leave it up to you guys.
na nite
xx

I think thats a good idea. I will start a thread with the poem in.
It helps keep the forum structered and less rambling.


Thanks for the feedback mags but I think it is better on a seperate thread. Actually thats what I though tI had done to be fair on myself. The big problem is that you cant edit or delete posts which I find bad news especially as when I get in drunk and make tons of errors only to find them next morning.

hey?

hang on this thread is full of diffeent poems?


Confused now!

yikes, oh well I start another thread anyway.
I have recalled why I never actually did this logical move in the first place Paul, and that is because this thread was 80 odd messages long about different stuff, so I presumed thats what we did, just posted onto it.

I should have another couple of poems done this week so I'll be sure to put them up for super review!

oh I see Paul - I thought you meant put different poems on different threads - the fact that 'would be nice...' was loaded with poetry and comments about them poems was good for me cos I'm a lazy git and I rarely write!
look forward to seeing your poems Cayn.
Peter your welcome honey, thanks for sharing your wonderful work
love to all.

xx