POET BY DAY, ACCOUNTANT BY NIGHT

I wake up in a bumble

As I tumble out of bed

Then I mumble as I fumble

With the jumble in my head

I get myself all decked out

In my finest dressing gown

Count the seconds til I check out

And step out and on the town

I long to chuck the toady odes

And feel myself take flight

Cos I’m a poet by day –

Accountant by night.

I work the nine-to-fives

Finding ballads really cumbersome

I really come alive

When I can get all hot and numbersome

Cos every working day

I’m bustin stanzas to the maximum

I’ll axe the work for play

Put on my slacks and do a tax return

I love to hit the office

And party til it’s light

Cos I’m a poet by day –

Accountant by night.

Some people call me ‘sell out’

With my super-sonnet skills

But I really want to yell out

I JUST RHYME TO PAY MY BILLS!

And at dusk I step out brusquely

And assume a new identity

I hang out in my suit

And be an absolute nonentity

I pack away my Byron

And I change my name to Dwight

Cos I’m a poet by day –

Accountant by night.

Now I’m thinking that the drinking

In the morning’s getting dull

And it may be wishful thinking

But it’s clinking in my skull:

Yes I’m pining for the time

When I can ditch the wretched rhyme

I’ve an itch to switch my pitch

And hit the finances full time

Yes the figures give me vigour
As they trigger and ignite
And make blatant all the latent force
That gives my life some bite

But for now I’ll nurse my verses

As I curse the need to write

Cos I’m a poet by day –

Accountant by night.

Yeah I’m a poet by day –

Accountant by night. 

(ADULT) COMEDY POEM - HE'S A SPACE INVADER

He’s a Space Invader

He’s a space invader

A proxemical raider

Better drop him quickly like a hot potato

A whole bus free and he sits next to you

You can feel his breath as you stand in a queue

You’re flecked with spittle whenever he speaks

You feel a little brittle as your patience creaks

He’s space attacker

A territory hacker

Better smack him swiftly in the knackers

He’s the sleazy geezer with the drunken squeeze

You’re on the train and he’s touching your knees

He makes you sick with his icky shtick

Hanging with this wang is no picnic

He’s a space intruder

A nuisance-exuder

He’s the guy from accounts by the water cooler

You’re chatting at a party and he’s getting farty

He corners you in boredom with his ‘arty’ repartee

Regaling you with tales of the book that he’s writing

You’re giving him a look like you want to bite him

He’s a lurking monstrosity

Run with velocity

His nose is too close to your physiognomy

You’re on the tube and he’s eyeing your Metro

He’s more of a prick than a thorny hedgerow

He’s all in your face, he’s a graceless case

As he pitches a flag in your personal space

He’s a space assailant

A nasty ailment

He’s the Lionel Messi of social derailment

He’s the bloke on coke with the shitty joke

And less charisma than an artichoke

He’s like ebola at an orgy

He’ll chase you away like Georie Porgie

He’s an etiquette-evader

A fun-blockader

Better watch out

He’s a SPACE INVADER!

Amazing Poems by Year 7 Students

wow, check these out!

Dear 5-Year-Old Self by Fatheema 

Dear 5-year-old self

Be nice to your brother

As he will be loyal to you

More than your father

Do not trust dad when he says

He will be back

The truth is he is gone

And does not care for us at all

Do not drink Coca Cola

When you think no one is watching

The truth is

Mum video taped it

And it’s on the way to Sri Lanka

Do not give up when people say

You can’t sing

The truth is

You have a talent

Do not cry when our goat dies

The truth is

He is in a better place.

Perfect Girl by Ameesha 

You stand in the shadows and watch,

as she tosses her long blue-black hair,

her mouth open in a perfect grin, her laughter as sweet and smooth

as honey. You watch as her friends crowd around her,

giggling, laughing, sharing their news about the new toy

their mouther bought them. You want to be their, in that

clique, that little bubble, that world of toys and happiness.

But you’re not. You’re here, in reality, and you wish you

weren’t. you have no nice dresses, no new toys, no designer

bags. You wish you were like them, one of them.

She looks at you then, with her large doe eyes,

and you realise that she isn’t the perfect person

she pretends to be. There are dark circle under her

weary, tired eyes, swollen red cheeks, and under

the new nice scarf her mum bought her last Saturday

you can see the hint of a blue-black bruise. And

you realise, you don’t want to be her after all. 

Poems About Britain, by British-Asian Girls

I am Poet in Residence at a school that consists primarily of British-Asian girls. They are having a day celebrating 'British Values', for which I am leading an assembly. I always think 'British Values' is a nebulous concept, and the values people cite as somehow British - tolerance, fairness, etc - have always struck me as basic human values. Be that as it may, I wanted to elicit from the students their own views on Britishness. With this in mind, the following two poems are comprised entirely from the ideas of a Year 7 class that I have been working with. Enjoy!

The Best Thing About Britain

The best thing about Britain is

We are all different religions and

We can learn from each other –

Democracy, respect, tolerance

And the rule of law.

The best thing about Britain is

Free health care, delicious food

And high quality education.

The best thing about Britain is

The burgers, the football,

The chicken and chips.

The best thing about Britain is

The toilets that have everything –

 Wash basin, closet, mirror.

The best thing about Britain is

You get to be your own religion,

And laughter, happiness and joy.

The best thing about Britain is

The landmarks that catch your eye,

The teachers and the police.

The best thing about Britain is

That it has a mix of different cultures.

The best thing about Britain is

We are safe. We are free.

The Worst Thing About Britain

The worst thing about Britain is

My siblings always thinking my dad’s a millionaire,

But he’s not and they waste his money.

The worst thing about Britain is

The bullying in every school

And paying money to the shopkeeper.

The worst thing about Britain is

One day it’s freezing and the next

It’s very hot.

The worst thing about Britain is

You can’t find chicken tikka in the shops,

And people don’t care about the homeless.

The worst thing about Britain is

Living next to West Ham United,

And drunk people walking down the street.

The worst thing about Britain is

When people get angry for no good reason,

And not being able to watch full movies on Youtube.

The worst thing about Britain is

The accidents on the road,

The crazy people,

The upside down weather.

The worst thing about Britain is

Technology, rain,

And no tropical fruit.