Monthly Archives: February 2016

The Curious Case

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I had actually completely forgotten about this poem (if it can really be called a poem) until I flicked through the notebook of my earliest stuff. I don’t really know where it came from but I thought it was strangely compelling. It also features a truly awful and nonsensical pun.

The Curious Case

How very curious he said
And died
But he wasn’t a cat
So far as I know – which isn’t far
But even a broken pen is write twice a day


This is quite a curious case

Tender Lure

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I know I’m stretching the link to Valentine’s day now, and this poem has an extremely tenuous link but just go with me for one more week.

This is not quite a love poem. It’s a poem about love gone wrong. It’s about several men who fall in love with meat. Sadly, it’s how some men seem to view ‘love’ these days anyway.

Tender Lure

My simple brother Jack caressed
A juicy, dripping chicken breast
Its curvature
And tender lure
Resistance: Hard at best

But watch my cousin John appoint
This governor: A gammon joint
A sumptuous feast
Of scrumptious beast
But tell me, what’s the point?

Then lastly, Uncle James has wed
A sirloin steak, cooked rare and red
So soft and sweet
His lawful meat
He’s taken it to bed


There’s something fishy about my housemates new girlfriend

Feature Walls

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The idea of a feature wall is so stupid. Why would you spend so much time perfecting a wall? Who is even going to look at it? Seriously, feature walls are absurd.

Feature Walls

Feature walls with golden flowers
Back in 1863
Grown men sat engrossed for hours
Before the days of ITV

Feature walls with purple hints
The year is now 2016
And yet this wall of royal tint’s
The finest wall I’ve ever seen


This is not a feature wall

Shall I Compare Thee To A Slice Of Bread?

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Ok, it’s been a while since Valentine’s day but I’m sticking with the theme for  this month. Last week, I compared and contrasted a lady and a sea monster. This week, I’m comparing and contrasting a lady and a slice of bread. I’m nothing if not a hopeless romantic.

Shall I Compare Thee To A Slice Of Bread?

Shall I compare thee to a slice of bread?
Thou art far more compelling when I’m tired
Bread is embellished with filling or spread
But you need no such thing to be admired

Bread is too soon forgotten in it’s bag
Becomes a moldy mess if it’s left out
But you, I want to show my friends and brag
This is the girl I told you all about!

Bread is made more appealing when it’s toast
But you need never change for me at all
Between the two options, I like you most
Because you won’t turn sticky if you fall

But most of all, and this is not a sin
I’d never, ever put you in the bin


You’re like pasta. If you sit in my cupboard for too long, I’ll probably forget and replace you.


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I was trying to write a thank you card to someone and it was very hard to find the right words. So I wrote some that rhymed.


I’m so very, very grateful
Gratitude? I’ve got a plateful
I could sing your praise for weeks
But I should really post this soon


This picture kind of has an inbuilt caption

How Are You Not A Sea Monster?

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It’s Valentine’s day! Different people have different thoughts and feelings about today. Personally, I tend not to pay it any attention at all as it’s all a bit nauseating, but I’m posting this poem as a small nod to the day’s significance.

I was reading The Call Of Cthulhu by H. P. Lovecraft and I couldn’t help but think that it would be horrible to have to spend time with a sea monster (especially one that is actually an ancient, evil, and angry god) and that the highest compliment you could pay someone is that they are completely unlike a sea monster!

How Are You Not A Sea Monster?

How are you not a sea monster?
Let me count the ways
You don’t have slimy tentacles
Just small, warm hands to raise

You don’t have eyes like frying pans
No, yours are deep and blue
You don’t scare sailors half to death
It’s nice to be with you

You don’t protect a dark abyss
You’re generous and sweet
You don’t have pincers, claws, or hooves
Just lovely, little feet

You don’t speak in strange languages
I love to hear your voice
I wouldn’t nuke your resting place
Were I given the choice


The lesser known (and lesser feared) sink monster


Hands For Feet

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Most people have played the ‘would you rather?’ game at some point in their lives. One question I have been asked a few times is ‘Would you rather have hands for feet or feet for hands?’ This got me thinking. What if my hands and feet were swapped? Would I be an outcast? Or would my uniqueness attract people?

Hands For Feet

If I had hands for feet
And my legs were really arms
I would cartwheel down the street
And seduce you with my charms


My knitting is awful but my gymnastics are on point

The Tapeworm Of Love

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It’s February, which means it’s Valentine’s day soon! This month, I’ve decided to post some valentinesy poems.

The first of this month’s poems was inspired by a Kate Bush song called Hounds of Love. Kate Bush describes love like a pack of hounds, hunting her down. I decided to write something along a similar lines, except that the protagonist describes love as a tapeworm that feeds off him. Exceedingly romantic, I know.

The Tapeworm Of Love

When I was a child
Making waves in the bath
I gave no thought but to having a laugh
Yes, when I was a child
I was too young to see

The tapeworm of love is tasting me

I lived for myself
And the things I enjoyed
I didn’t need friends, I was otherwise employed
Yes, I lived for myself
Too self-centred to see

The tapeworm of love is tasting me

You changed all of that
Occupying my mind
To what seemed so important before, I was blind
Yes, you changed all of that
And I started to see

The tapeworm of love is tasting me

This parasite’s grown
Now it takes up my time
And my energy too, but it isn’t a crime
Yes, this parasite’s grown
But at last, I can see

The tapeworm of love is tasting me


The tapeworm’s distant cousin, the tapesnail