Send me a slow news day,
a quiet, subdued day,
in which nothing much happens of note,
save for the passing of time,
the consumption of wine,
and a re-run of Murder, She Wrote.
Grant me a no news day,
a spare-me-your-views day,
in which nothing much happens at all,
except a few hours together
some regional weather,
a day we can barely recall.
How was your Christmas?
you ask
and I think of
the bloodstained rug
and the silent scraping
of the spade
in the garden
at midnight
and the wash wash
washing of my hands
and the dreams,
those endless dreams
which haunt
the night-time
and smudge
their thumbprints
on the day
to come
and I reply
Super, thanks. Yours?
Resolution
Having failed to keep
A new year’s resolution for
Pretty much ever, this year I resolve to
Play it safe. The trick is to know
Your limits. Keep it simple.
Now what I resolve to do is to
Eschew a poetic form. Abstain from
Writing an acrostic for a whole
Year. A resolution, I think,
Easily done. Eminently achievable.
A piece of cake. Oh,
Rats.
This was the year that was not the year
This was the year that was not the year
I repaired the bathroom tap
and emptied out the kitchen drawer
of a lifetime’s worth of crap.
This was the year that was not the year
in which I launched a new career.
A West End hit eluded me
as did Time Person of the Year.
This was the year that was not the year
I became a household name.
Action figures were not sold of me.
I wasn’t made a dame.
This was the year that was not the year
I spent less time on my phone.
A night of passion did not happen
in a boutique hotel in Rome.
This was the year that was the year
I didn’t get that much done –
much the same as the year before,
much like the one to come.
It’s UK publication day for ‘A Poem for Every Question’, my new collection of poems for children, illustrated by the brilliant Joe Berger.
Inside there are poems to answer all sorts of interesting questions: how many stars in the universe exploded today?; who had the first holiday?; how many times a day do we laugh?; are unicorns real?; and many more.
I’m really chuffed to see how this book has turned out. A big thanks to the team at Farshore Books for producing such a beautiful object.
If you fancy getting hold of a copy, it should be available through your local bookshop. Alternatively, here’s a page with links to some online booksellers: https://harpercollins.co.uk/products/a-poem-for-every-question-brian-bilston?variant=55115733893499
It’s publication day for the new edition of my first poetry collection, You Took the Last Bus Home. It’s been unavailable for nine months, following the demise of its original publisher, Unbound. I’m so delighted that Picador stepped into the breach to bring out this shiny new edition.
Hopefully it will now be back on the shelves of most bookshops – and it’s available to order online from all the usual places. You can find a few links to where to order here: https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/brian-bilston/you-took-the-last-bus-home/9781035086634
Roger’s Thesaurus
In order to grow, expand, widen
his lexicological corpus,
Roger bought, acquired, purchased
a synonymopedia, a thesaurus.
Soon, presently, without delay,
he no longer ran out of things to say,
speak, utter, express, articulate,
give voice to, pronounce, communicate.
This was all very well, fine, great,
wonderful, super, terrific
but his friends, mates, pals found him
boring, tedious, dull, soporific.
So let this be a warning,
an omen, a sign, a premonition,
it’s all very well to show learning,
education, knowledge, erudition,
but here’s a top tip, a hint,
a suggestion, some advice,
don’t ever let it stop you
from being concise
.
ss
brief, short, clear, pithy,
succinct, compendious, to the point,
compact, snappy, laconic.
..
.
Breviloquent.
The mathematician John Venn was born on this day in 1834.
To commemorate the occasion, here’s a poem in the form of a Venn diagram.
I took delivery yesterday of some advance copies of the gorgeous new edition of ‘You Took the Last Bus Home’.
In celebration of that, here’s the title poem …
You Took the Last Bus Home
you took
the last bus home
don’t know how
you got it through the door
you’re always doing amazing stuff
like the time
you caught that train
Why do I always watch my birds?
I know that statement sounds absurd
but today I reached an all-lime toe
when I received a blushing crow.
It’s wetting gorse – and here’s the crunch:
my conversation packs a lunch.
I’m not sure when all this began
but I think I need a plaster man
to help me when my stouth gets muck.
I should sit, perhaps, and bead a rook,
fight a liar, or flick some powers.
No, I think I’ll go and shake a tower.
…………………………………………………………………..
The Reverend William Archibald Spooner was born on this day in 1844. He’s remembered today for his unfortunate habit of getting his words muddled up. Happy Spoonerism Day to all those who belly crate.
