Fishing in the Rivers of Life

Tag: Poetry

  • A Little Poem on the Way to the Optician

    Here is a little poem I wrote on the bus on my way to see the optician — a homage to the late, great Spike Milligan. Mind you, he’d probably say, if I can see the optician, why am I bothering to go? Hello,I’m a crow,Now I said it,It’s time to go,Time does flyAnd so…

  • Hang On

    Hang on, mate,I’m old, not obsolete,Still rather nifty,Still on my feet. I’m nearer fifty than seventy,Yet you’re convincedI’m running on empty. Last year’s model,That I may be,Yet there is no shortage ofAbility. Give me a chance,Still, I can danceAnd carry a tune,Yet you want to banish meFrom the workroom. When all is told,Do I make…

  • Ode to Feet

    Plates of meat,That do defeatLogic and rhyme. Malodorous, odorous,With a characterAll their own —No wonder I’mStood here on my own. Fetid and reeking,Put me right off eating.Don’t get me wrong —By God, they pong. They’ve got quite niftySomewhat,Rather swiftly. What a pen and ink,It makes youStop and think…Ripe like Camembert. God, they stink!Don’t kiss and…

  • Top of the Pops

    Trying to writea love song,something punchy,not too long. Chas ‘n’ Dave —my inspiration.Come on now,what, you hate ’em?There just ain’tno pleasin’ you. Top of the Popswas my aim —sadly,they’re out the game. But, by Jove,I will not cry —time to exploitold Spotify.

  • Chick’n Chips

    Chick’n Chips from myfavorite Sarf London store —you know the one,bullet holes in the door.Customers scream,and they shout —heaven knowswhat they’re on about. Consumers eclectic,including me,ponderingwhat to havefor their tea. Chicken thighs?Dodgy pies?Maybe even,Curly fries? Standing there, contemplating,I wonder how longI’ll be waiting. Spicy wings?Onion rings?Napkin rings?You must be joking. Delivery riders —they seldom smile.Perhapsthey’ve…

  • Who Are You…

    I can’t remember being youngOr how I got old.I can’t even rememberThose stories I’ve told. Memory loss,Now is such an affliction.How much of my life isJust pure fiction? How can I lie,If I don’t know what’s true?Honestly, mate,Would I lie to you? Yeah, I drink too much,That bit is true.Again, the line:Would I lie to…

  • waiting for a train

    With apologies to Monty Python When you’re chewing on life’s gristle Don’t grumble, give a whistle And this’ll help things turn out for the best… And… Here is a poem what I wrote, I think you’ll find, It goes for the throat. If you don’t like it, I don’t really mind — It’s about Life’s…

  • Ode to Chips

    I chose to believe,That when my time comes to leave,And must I depart this earthly realm,Those of us, so torn apart,With broken heartsThat bleed but never did mend,Will find it’s not the end,For nature will make amends,And we will be whole again.