Waiting for Oasis Tickets (a haiku)

Some might say, I need

cigarettes and alcohol.

D’you know what I mean?

For My Wife

after Michael Blumenthal 

One day

the time will come

when I am able to be strong for you,

just like you’re being strong for me now.

The time will come

when I do your shopping for you,

and all the things around the house,

and wipe your tears for you,

and sit next to you holding your hand,

just like you’re doing for me now.

I promise you

I don’t take any of this for granted.

One day (I can’t say when)

the time will come

when I hold up the roof for you,

leaving you to take your arms down

to rest for a while.

Yes that time will surely come,

and it will surely be a gift.

Joshua Seigal

Catching the Flakes

Today is a waterfall of sludge.

I’m at the river’s edge

covered in mud,

a sieve in my hand.

I stand by the waterfall

trying to catch the flakes,

those tiny bits of gold that remind me

today hasn’t been all grim.

See, I wrote part of a poem;

I walked the dog – 

I catch these flakes in my sieve,

letting the rest of the day’s muck

tumble on down to get washed

away by the river. 

Tomorrow might be better,

I tell myself,

as I put the flakes in my bag,

dry myself off

and head softly, silently

into the night.

Joshua Seigal 

Blackburn at Home

We sit in the stands

with our steaming cups of hot chocolate.

I ask if he thinks we’ll win.

He says that we definitely won’t.

I drink it all in – 

the little men in the distance,

running up and down on the greenest grass I’ve ever seen;

the voice booming over the loudspeakers;

the scent of pie and beer. 

He reaches into his pocket

and hands me a toffee,

the kind I’m not allowed at home.

“Don’t tell your mum”, he says.

We lose. 

And there it is – my first ever football match.

A bitter winter’s evening;

a two-nil defeat

and Grandpa’s hand, so warm in mine

as we walk across the windswept park.

Joshua Seigal 

The Website

Every day I refresh the page to see

if my poem has gone up on the website.

Who am I kidding? I do it every hour.

More than once an hour, actually. 

Probably every few minutes. Has the poem

gone up? Has the poem gone up? It hasn’t.

And I’m not sure what to do when it does.

Throw a party? Run naked down the street?

Send a link in an email to the President

of the USA? I know I’ll do none of these things.

I’ll just read the poem over a few times and

go to bed aglow with pride. And then

what? They’ve not paid me for the poem.

I’m no further out of my overdraft than I was

a day or two ago. Letters still pile up

on the mat. The mortgage is still there.

A poem on a website does not a day’s

work make. I can’t eat exposure, however

tasty it looks. See I’m hungry for words.

Feed me with your likes. Glut me with

your clicks. I’ll sell my house for your love.

Joshua Seigal

A Terrible Poem for a Terrible Person

Massive rockets

Super cars 

Ego stretching 

To the stars 

Bloviates

From dawn til dusk

Ladies and gentlemen – 

Elon Musk 

Ruined Twitter

Spews his bile 

Face looks wonky

Views are vile 

Like a toddler

With a rusk

Ladies and gentlemen – 

Elon Musk

Loads of kids

And loads of money

Thinks he’s clever

Thinks he’s funny

I’d like to slap him

With a cusk*

Ladies and gentlemen – 

Elon Musk

Simps for Trump

And JD Vance

Tiny willy

In his pants

Heart of stone

And skull a husk 

Ladies and gentlemen – 

Elon Musk

*a type of fish 

Homage

A pet owner 

from Barcelona 

was a rather clever man – 

he called his cat Alan.

Joshua Seigal

poetry workshop idea!

Here is a fun idea for a poetry workshop! Try writing lines using the following structure:

If you were a radio

I’d listen to you all day.

If you were a pair of shoes

I’d walk with you everywhere.

If you were a chocolate bar

I’d savour your sweetness forever.

If you were a pillow

I’d bury my face in your softness.

If you were the stars

I’d capture the whole night sky.

Here are some lines produced using this structure, from some of my poetry pals on Twitter:

If you were a cat

We’d get on purrfectly well. (Brian Moses)

If you were a camera

I’d find you wonderful scenes to capture

If you were a lawnmower

I’d give you beautiful grass to mow

If you were a china cup

I’d brew you tea as often as you wished

If you were a bed

I’d wish you the sweetest dreams (Val Harris)

If you were an umbrella

I’d sing to help it rain.

If you were a piano

We’d always live in harmony.

If you were the sun

I’d dance in your warmth. (Fiona Halliday)