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Tuesday, 24 November 2020

LOVELY POEM BY IRIS, AGE 8

I think it's really important to acknowledge that whilst lockdown has been extremely tough for many people, there have also been some upsides. With this in mind, I was extremely honoured when Jonathon got in touch with me via email to share some work that his daughter Iris had produced during her time in lockdown. I am really happy that he gave permission for me to display one of Iris's poems on my blog. The poem below was written when she was 8 (she is 9 now, I am told), and it captures some of the positives of lockdown. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Well done Iris!



Sunday, 22 November 2020

New tongue-twisty food poem

THE REAL MEAL SPIEL


I’m a fish aficionado

and I ‘ave an avocado 

I bake bagels with bravado

cake and steak I make to munch


I prepare a pair of pastries

and lick liquorice that’s lacy

as I race with haste to face the

taste of my tongue-twisting lunch.





Wednesday, 11 November 2020

THE FEAR

Throat dry

Chest tight

Can’t sleep

At night

Hands clammy

Feel sick

Want my mummy

Get her quick!

Squeaky bottom

Foggy head

Looming horror

Lurking dread

Got the fear

Feel the burn...

Have to do

My tax return


Tuesday, 10 November 2020

VACCINE DREAM

Mind control by Billy Gates

Lizards running global states

I don’t care, I cannot wait

GET IT IN ME VEINS!


Microchips that sap your soul

Receiving beams from 5G poles

That stand upon those grassy knolls

GET IT IN ME VEINS!


Cooked up in a hidden lab

So Mossad agents can keep tabs

I want it now, I crave that jab

GET IT IN ME VEINS!


Plots by Soros and the Dems

Things the righteous should condemn

And Zionists (it’s always them)

GET IT IN ME VEINS!


David Icke? Just let him be

And QAnon might well agree

But less for them is more for me

SO GET IT IN ME VEINS!





Saturday, 7 November 2020

PART OF US

The part of us that won’t face up

The part of us that lies

The part of us that wants our way

or else it kicks and cries


The part of us that strains so hard

to disregard the facts

The part of us that lashes out

and primally reacts


The part of us that turns our face

away from right and wrong

The part of us that blocks the path

for others to belong 


The part of us that yearns to rule

and seeks to dominate

The part of us that shrinks from love

and gravitates to hate


The part of us that’s gone askew 

The part that’s got the hump...

We all have to do battle with

our inner Donald Trump





Wednesday, 4 November 2020

I MIGHT BE WRONG

I have a dreadful secret and it makes me want to cry.

Outside I’ve got street spirit but inside I’m high and dry. 

You might be optimistic but don’t be in any doubt:

this spectre scratches at my chest and threatens to fade out.


I walk bedecked in bishop’s robes, a trickster in the town,

but if you pulled the ripcord my facade would be let down.

It leaves me all in limbo and demolishes my cred:

although I seem a cool kid, I don’t like Radiohead. 


While others call them genius I find their tunes a chore.

It gives me an ill wind; it’s like a wolf is at my door.

It leaves me feeling paranoid when others preach their class;

apart from ‘Creep’ and ‘Karma Police’ I simply can’t be arsed. 


I think it sounds all scatterbrained. I dislike Thom Yorke’s voice.

You say it’s like molasses but it doesn’t make me moist.

I get it, they’re original and technical pioneers;

my brain retains this knowledge but it doesn’t sate my ears.


Perhaps I’m just a tourist and I need to make amends

but honey, I can’t help it if their songs give me the bends.

So go on, get your knives out and them hold them to my throat:

I’d rather listen to the bleatings of a billy goat. 


Yes take your chant of ‘burn the witch’ and say it to my face.

To me their music’s like a jigsaw falling out of place.

Just call me an imposter, or an android, if you choose

but I’m not a fan of Radiohead. And also I hate Muse.