I have never written poetry. Which is strange, because I sincerely believe that I’m the only intelligent and sensetive person in the world. I’ve just never thought to make my vital musings on the human condition rhyme. And because it’s absolutely paramount that I express myself in as many ways as possible (because my feelings are so intense and important), I’ve decided to share with you, blessed reader, my innermost essence.
This first poem is about meeting someone on the street and saying “Hello”.
THE YOU I HELLO’D
You looked at me said that it was half past eight
I said that that was not very late
You squinted at your watch
Like I am squinting at the sun
You said your watch had stopped
I said I think the sun has stopped too
And in anticipation I puckered my lips
And closed my eyes for the kiss of life
But no kiss came
I puckered more
I opened one eye
And puckered further
You had gone
And I looked like Benny Hill fondling a big tit
That poem, I think, sums up perfectly the chance encounters that rule our lives, and the slavery of the human will to the deterministic clash of mindless atoms. This next poem is about the great duty that comes with the power to truly hate. My hate is so pure you can actually squeeze it like a key fob.
LOVE AND HATE ARE OPPOSITES LIKE HAPPY AND SAD
When we kissed, were you thinking of me?
Or was it Tony?
I only ask because you said “Tony”.
And you asked me to pull my Tony face.
Sometimes it is difficult feeling things in such an acute fashion. You will understand this a little, but not properly. This next poem is about the removal of the barriers between the emotions. I have now done this, and now I feel every emotion, at full strength, constantly. Yesterday I snarled joyfully in placid horror. Times ten.
MANDY PORTER OH NO
mandy porter, i love you
mandy porter, i do
even when you’re far away
i think of you
This is just the chorus – now it goes into a freestyle MC session, of the kind you might recall in such hits as Paula Abdul’s Opposites Attract or The Fat Boys and Chubby Checker’s The Twist.
oh mandy porter, i never shoulda fought ya
there’s a knot in my hanky
to remind me of something
one time two time thanks for that
i’m hungry
have we got anything in?
(i’ve got something in you
but i’m still hungry for food)
the two things are distinct
do you see mandy? mandy?
OH NO MANDY PORTER HAS DIED IN MY ARMS TONIGHT
OH MANDY 🙁
[chorus]
dead girl in my arms, tra-la-la-la-la
there’s a dead girl in my arms, traaa la la-la-la-la
dead girl in my arms, tra-la-la-la-la
at last i can do her up the bum
bum! bum!
That might seem off-colour to you, with your black and white worldview. I live on a different moral plane. I am so far advanced that it pains me to even call myself human. I should be the kind of creature that says things like “puny mortal”. Brian Blessed or something. This next and final poem is about my feet, which I think are just the right size.
FEET
Left foot right foot
My feet are so clean
Me and my feet are
Gonna see the queen
It is my sincerest hope that you have been improved by my poetry, and if you wish to share your own inferior verse, do so in the comments.
NON DE L’COh DE BAGAGISTE DE MANDY
bagagiste mandy, je t’aime
bagagiste mandy, je
même lorsque vous êtes parti lointain
je pense à vous
NOT Of COh OF LUGGAGE HANDLER OF MANDY
luggage handler mandy, I love you
luggage handler mandy, I
even when you left remote
I think of you
An Ode to Log
Log is a big and funky guy
with an evil glint in his eye
and probably another on his thigh
Tra-la-la or something.
I have a GLINT on my THIGH? Jesus! Does it look angry? GET IT OFF ME
I think it’s some glitter.
Brace yourselves!
:brace position taken:
Red is the colour of our love
Blue is the colour of my pain
White is the colour of our innocence
Brown is the colour of your brain
hi log!
I wrote this on the tube this morning…I hope to write more but I got to my stop just as I finished the chorus. Alas! Anyway I have called this ‘Promise Me’
You light up another cigarette
and I pour the wine
It’s four o’clock in the morning
and it’s starting to get light
now I’m right where I want to be
losing track of time
but I wish that it was still last night
You look like you’re in another world
but I can read your mind
how can you be so far away
lying by my side
when I go away I’ll miss you
and I will be thinking of you
every night and day just …
Promise me you’ll wait for me
‘cos I’ll be saving all my love for you
and I will be home soon
Promise me you’ll wait for me
I need to know you feel the same way too
and I’ll be home, I’ll be home soon
I hope you like it!
Bumsex, bumsex
One, two, three
Isn’t that one of Phillip Larkin’s? 😉
I drown myself
In the majesty of your tears
Every time you walk
I hear your legs ker-chinging against the fabric of your Etam skirt
Like soft sighs saying “love me”
And I do.
Your presence is my GOD
I dream of you when I’m awake
And an infinity of you as I slumber
Like a man possessed
I slather at your image
Scattering my useless seed
Like a Harlequin into the clouds.
They fuck you up the bum, your mum & dad…
… and a mysterious third person
Gently wave five piggies,
farewell to my love
You bore the burden of my soul
on your sole.
This betoothed snarler
has torn us asunder.
You were my foot
and the chainsaw is a cunt.
What do you see
When you look in a mirror?
Do you see yourself?
Or someone else?
Do you see beauty?
Or do you see fear?
Fatigue?
Love?
Hate?
Eyes that sear?
That sear open your heart,
Because you wish they weren’t yours.
Eyes with tears,
Because they don’t want to see
Themselves
For fear that they aren’t beautiful.
All alone in a room
With just a mirror and me,
I stare at that bright, shining piece of glass.
And I see a girl
A bit too thin
With no facial expression,
A girl
Who looks like
She has peace of mind
Although that is not true.
The mirror lies.
And I back away,
I don’t want to get nearer
To that terrible,
Beautiful,
Panel
Called a mirror.
-Rebecca