He had the heart of a lion.
He was as strong as an ox.
But he had the liver of a goat
and the stomach of a fox.
The doctors were sent for
to allay the king’s fears,
but they were confounded
by his cauliflower ears
and the crow’s feet beneath his eyes
which shed crocodile tears.
Was he animal, vegetable or mineral?
They had no idea, but growing bolder
the doctors operated on the king
and removed the chip from his shoulder.
Go on, get back.
I’m a king of fine repute.
Because I rule the waves
And my name is Canute.
Hey, did you listen to me?
You can’t lap against my boot.
Because I rule the waves
And my name is Canute.
Look, don’t get any deeper.
I’m warning you, old fruit.
Because I rule the waves
And my name is Canute.
Right, now you’ve gone too far.
If only there was a plug.
Because now the waves rule me
And my name is gurgle … gurgle … glug
And here’s another of my “poems”, imagined by @new_toon
The challenge here was to think of what you might have inscribed on your gravestone in five words.
Sometimes, kind and clever people on Twitter people do things with my poems. Here’s one of two wonderful cartoons by @new_toon
I can’t go anywhere these days
without the paparazzi snapping me
in the desperate clutch
of some sour-breathed hopeful.
There I’ll be, minding my own business,
staring contently at cloud formations
when a vulture swoops from out of the blue
and carries me up like a helpless shrew.
It’s not me they’re interested in,
it’s what I represent. Unlike them,
I’m innocent, The Future free from impurity.
They scoop me up without impunity.
I guess what I’m trying to say,
is that when they pucker up and kiss me,
I’m no longer just a three-month old,
I’m a photo opportunity.
I shall be seeking political immunity.
Polyvinyl chloride disc
with modulated spiral groove,
you’re up to scratch,
you’re prone to snap,
your pop’s crackle makes me move.
You turn the tables,
you’re fragile, an uncalculated risk.
I love you thirty-three and a third more times
than any compact disc
(and forty-five times more
than a download
from an online store).
Digital is clinical,
cuts the air like a surgeon’s knife,
but vinyl has the touch, the feel,
and surface noise of life.
So proud to unveil my 2015 Poetry Party manifesto …
For two hours she sat,
clutching the ticket
from the machine.
But then,
she’d been waiting
all of her life
to be seen.
Our Feargal, which Art in Hanson,
hallowed be thy James;
thy Kinksdom come;
thy will.i.am,
in Garth as it is in Heaven 17.
Give us Green Day our Motörhead.
And forgive us our Travises,
Aswad forgive Them that Travis against us.
And lead us not into The Temptations;
but deliver us from Eno.
For grime is the Kinksdom,
T’Pau, and the Gloria,
For Everly and Everly.
Shamen.
And they called it cupboard love
oh I guess they’ll never know
how stationery moves me
and why I love it so …
PAPER
Paper is the crisp, linen bedsheet,
awaiting your impression.
It is also good for writing, drawing
and other forms of expression.
Or if your love of origami
is extravagantly uncontrolled,
then the usefulness of paper
becomes manifestly manifold.
THE STAPLER
There is nothing better
than a stapler
for sticking together
sheets of papler.
THE PAPER CLIP
Some do not give a flip
about the humble paper clip
but to them I say – whatever.
For it is hard to think
of a more noble endeavour
than the compulsion
to holds things all together.
THE HOLE PUNCH
There is no bigger
perpetrator
of pierced paper
than the hole punch
perforator.
For lunch, the hole punch
eschews fresh spaghetti
but swallows holes whole
then turns it to confetti.
THE PEN
It has oft been said and oft been wrote,
the pen is mightier than the sword,
that much is true if, inside your pen,
a tiny nuclear bomb is stored.
Look after it and care for it;
please treat it with devotion.
For the loss of one mere biro lid
can lead to much pen-top emotion.
THE HIGHLIGHTER
If you are keen to highlight
your writing’s inner essence,
what you need
to best proceed
is a stick of pure fluorescence.
THE RINGBINDER
When it comes to getting organized
to help the seeker become the finder,
the ringbinder
plays a blinder.
THE POST-IT NOTE
Stick it on your colleague’s desk.
Stick it on their PC.
Stick it on your husband’s head
while he’s watching the TV.
All hail the post-it!
Together let us toast-it!
(but be sure to keep your message short
for only then can the post-it
host-it).
Brian Bilston's Poetry Laboetry 