It takes a prism to see
that what you think of as white
is in fact a litany
of many different colours.
Things aren’t as they seem.
Of that we can be sure.
And so it is with people –
we can measure them, group them,
rank, sort and categorise them;
it takes a prism to see
the many colours shining
in each human heart.
Joshua Seigal
Anfield
Where the atmosphere gets more red and red
The best players are under the spotlight
That’s Anfield
The Everton haters chant and sing YNWA
They will put in their heart and soul in every way
That’s Anfield
As everyone is shocked and surprised
The crowd suddenly begins to rise
That’s my home
Tenerife
The sun shines in my glistening blue eyes
I walk down the street seeing people in sunglasses
In Tenerife
I lick my vanilla ice cream
So slowly and oh so delightfully
In Tenerife
We pick a restaurant and have a delicious meal
I slurp my spaghetti noisily
In Tenerife
After we have eaten
We walk down the side of the beach
My flipflops clicking and clacking
In Tenerife
Turkey
Where the ice cream ripples down my hand
That’s Turkey
I dip my toes in the sand
That’s Turkey
There are lots of dogs that follow me
That’s Turkey
But here comes a bumble bee!
That’s Turkey
We watch a sunset before disco night
That’s Turkey
Nothing here could give me a fright
That’s Turkey
My Safe Place
The bed is soft like a cat’s fur
The books imagine they might fly
That’s my safe place
It’s relaxing when my brother isn’t there
It feel like there’s real-life toys
That’s my safe place
The night light is so colourful
The lego is so playful
That’s my safe place
Trampoline Park
Where the excitement appears
You are here!
The laughter and joy
You are here!
Jumping from a height that might be a fright
You are here!
Slurping a slushie red and blue
You are here!
Safety guards watching you
You are here!
Sweating now and then
You are here
At the Trampoline park!
Disneyland Paris
Where you ride on the rollercoasters
And stare at the Eiffel Tower
Where you lick a lolly
While riding on the merry-go-round
Where your mum never wants to go
On the rides with you
But you force her anyway
Now that’s my idea of fun
Where your parents say yes to everything
Where you can do whatever
Where you can eat Mickey Mouse pizza
Now that’s my idea of fun
Where there’s candyfloss galore
Where you can be as loud as you want
Where you meet your favourite characters
Now that’s Disneyland Paris!
The boiler’s broken down again
You’ve had a parking fine
The kids are playing up at school
You’ve spilt a glass of wine
You’ve had a scam on Instagram
Your neighbour is a prick
You’ve missed your latest deadline…
and the cat has just been sick.
The rent is going up again
The car insurance too
You've snagged your brand new jacket
And you think you have the flu
The boiler man has not shown up
(He said that he’d be quick)
You’ve tripped and hurt your ankle…
and the cat has just been sick.
You’re chasing up a payment
That’s gone missing in the post
The milk has just turned sour
And you’ve gone and burnt the toast
You’ve prayed to God to help you out
It hasn’t done the trick
You’re drowning in disorder…
and the cat has just been sick.
Joshua Seigal
She keeps staring
at the front door and yowling.
I catch her curled up
on your side of the bed.
She doesn’t settle on my chest
the way she does on yours.
She stands on my lap, not quite
looking me in the eyes.
The curtains have been ripped to shreds.
She paces round in the nights,
from room to room, looking for you.
Her feline instincts sense
that something is amiss.
I try to pick her up.
She gives me a hiss.
Joshua Seigal
I dropped you off at the airport.
When I got home there’d been a power cut –
no internet, no microwave, no hot coffee.
It was as if the flat had given up
in solidarity with your absence.
I flipped the switch on the fuse box
and waited for the place to sigh back to life.
I heard the oven ping, saw a light flicker
on the TV. It was then that I realised
I had the most pounding, godawful headache.
Joshua Seigal
Of all of the authors
in all of the world,
I think of my favourite one;
the writer who writes
with the choicest of ink
and a pen from which wonders
are spun;
the bard I regard and
who leaves me aghast
at the beautiful turn of their phrase;
the wordsmith who works
with the best of all words,
whose creations astound and
amaze.
There’s Shakespeare and Dickens
and Roger McGough –
indeed I could wax on and on;
there’s Sylvia Plath
and Virginia Woolf,
but my favourite one is
‘Anon’.
I can’t stand jalapeños.
Please keep them out my pot.
They’re jarrowingly jorrible
and jideously jot!
Joshua Seigal
HONEST JACK
Jack Sheppard was locked in a cell.
His mind, cogitating, did dwell
on making a break,
so a rope he did take
and he clambered away down the side of the prison wall.
Jack Sheppard was banged up once more.
He sliced through his bars with a saw.
Leaping over the gate
and defying his fate,
he promptly absconded for a second time.
Jack Sheppard, imprisoned anew,
was certain of what he should do.
Distracting the guard,
he crept into the yard
and he sauntered out of the jail, dressed in women’s clothing.
When faced with unwanted restriction,
Jack always escapes this affliction.
You can cuff him, detain him,
confine and constrain him,
but he’ll always break loose of whatever limitations you put upon his freedom.
Joshua Seigal
Spicy Mind
I have a spicy mind. It doesn’t
do what people tell it to.
It’s often very friendly but then
sometimes it’ll yell at you.
It’s like a pair of horses pulling
each their separate way at once,
or else it is a jester with
a chestful of annoying stunts.
I have a spicy mind. It often
makes me want to scream and shout.
It’s like a tiger, locked up in
a cage, that simply can’t get out.
It throws me lots of curveballs
and it’s riddled with anxiety.
It conjures ways to trick me
with its impish impropriety.
I have a spicy mind. I guess
it’s tiring, but I’ve grown to learn
that often it’s delectable
despite the way my brain can burn.
My mind belongs to me, you see
I think that I am stuck with it,
so stick it in your recipe
and come and try your luck with it!
My moniker is Monica.
From Monaco I came.
I’m good on the harmonica;
Veronica’s the same.
They ask about my moniker.
“It’s Monica”, I claim,
“and me and my Veronica,
we came in search of fame.”
My moniker is Monica.
Simplicity’s my aim:
see, Monica’s my moniker –
my name’s the name for ‘name’.
Joshua Seigal
The ultimate goal of life remains the spiritual growth of the individual, the solitary journey to peaks that can be climbed only alone – M. Scott Peck
He had four letters tattooed
on his forearm – TSWF – and he went
to the grave without telling anyone
what they meant. He loved his wife,
their lives entwined as all good couples’ are,
but he never revealed to her
the secret code. His friends and family
likewise – he was open and honest
and right and true, but he never told anyone
what the letters stood for. He worked hard
at his job, and was roundly admired.
At first they asked him about the letters,
but they gave up eventually – it was clear
he would never reveal their meaning.
A good man, evidently. Loved by all.
And at the summit, four letters in the snow.
Joshua Seigal
If I Were a Superhero by Joshua Seigal
If I were a superhero
I would rescue all the lost cats
And keep them all as pets
If I were a superhero
I would make sure
That no one in the world is hungry
If I were a superhero
I would catch bad guys
With my pair of magic underwear
If I were a superhero
I would make sure that every dog
Has a nice juicy bone
If I were a superhero
I would take the news off the TV
And show nothing but cartoons
If I were a superhero
I would take all the broccoli in the supermarket
And send it to the moon…
If you were a superhero
What would you do?
For Fleetville Infant School
You see the moon
but you are not the moon.
You think your thoughts
but you are not your thoughts.
You hold your wife in your arms
but you are not her
and she is not you.
You are all alone.
And it’s beautiful.
Joshua Seigal