Skip to content
February 20, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

A Bushy Tale

We’d often see him round about,
then he’d visit when we put bird seed out,
and as we handed out the nuts he’d crave
the squirrel became increasingly brave
until every day he’d take a chance,
making our excited baby start to dance
as she saw him begging at the door,
melting our hearts so we fed him more.
But then he assumed he’s a welcome guest,
so moved into the attic and built a nest:
a place to shelter with his rodent bride,
where they eat the nuts that we provide;
a place that meets their every need,
it’s warm and dry for them to breed.
But they chewed the things that we had stored,
Christmas decorations have been gnawed,
and they’ll chew the pipes if they need a drink,
it’s time to evict them, we start to think,
and so to rid us of this rodent brood
a man we called brought special food.

February 15, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

A Nose By Any Other Name

He smells the shampoo in her hair,
she listens to the tale he tells
and wishes she could be elsewhere.
He smells.

Leering at her feminine swells,
not trying to disguise his stare,
as she tries to bid her farewells.

He smells her scent as she sits there,
aloof as all the other belles,
imagining her body bare.
He smells.

February 5, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

Shop Till You Drop

From the shops I need to buy:
-a toy for me or I might cry
-a magazine of cars I want to drive
-beer so the party starts when I arrive
-a duvet and pillows for our new bed
-wine. And aspirin to help my head
-nappies to keep the baby clean
-sweets to reward how good she’s been
-a card to celebrate the exams she’ll ace
-a house warming present for her new place
-dog food for the pal that now needs our care
-dinner for one as I’m the only one there
-the tablets that help when I’m feeling ill
-some paper for writing out my will.

February 1, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

Magical History Tour

If I could build a time machine

I’d go back to a world unseen,

where only dinosaurs have been.

 

I’d say ‘hello’ to a stegosaur,

politely shake his outstretched paw,

but run away if I heard him roar.

 

I’d wear animal skin and live in a cave,

eating the berries that I could save,

or a sabre-tooth tiger if I felt brave.

 

I’d meet Henry VIII and Katherine Parr,

show them that we’ve come so far,

and get them drunk in my local bar.

 

Treat them to All You Can Eat Chinese:

spring rolls, noodles and fried lychees,

finished off with crackers and cheese.

 

I’d spend some time with Will Shakespeare,

show him the TV version of King Lear,

not in the cinema as the price is dear.

 

See Stephenson watch proud as a Bullet train passes,

pay for King Harold’s archery classes

but make sure that he wore safety glasses.

 

I’d put Orville Wright in a fighter jet,

ask Francis of Assisi to dog-sit my pet,

take Richard III to Aintree for a bet.

 

I’d sail the world with Francis Drake,

take Joan of Arc out for a steak,

and Marie Antoinette for a slice of cake.

 

Visit Botany Bay with Captain Cook,

meet Robin Hood and Friar Tuck,

and have a read of the Domesday Book.

 

Watch Christ make water into wine,

greet Henry Ford on his production line,

and Arthur Scargill down a mine.

 

Darwin, Buddha, Norma Jean,

Karl Marx, Elvis, the Virgin Queen,

I’d have them all in my time machine

January 9, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

Searching for Pussy

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, cat’s don’t wag their tails like that.

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, they don’t have horns and aren’t so fat

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, I’ve never seen one wear a hat

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, that’s two old ladies having a chat

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, that’s a horse you’re looking at

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, that one has the wings of a bat

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No, that looks suspisciously like a rat

Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!

No…. OK, this time it is  a cat.

November 16, 2012 / AdamWritesPoems

Meatlove

In the car I first heard the second ‘Bat’,

a man would do anything for love, but not that,

and though I had somewhere to be Heaven could wait

until I’d heard about the Lost Boy and Golden Girl’s date.

So “Keep driving” I thought on that fateful night,

knowing this was paradise by my dashboard light,

that my rock ‘n’ roll dreams were coming through,

feeling I could do anything if I really wanted to.

When ‘Objects in the Rearview Mirror’ made me cry

he’d left his mark on me, I had no reply,

and that voice that I heard just wouldn’t quit

so, all revved up, I bought up every hit,

wanting every piece of the action now that I’d tried,

no longer left in the dark, standing on the outside.

Now I’ve been to the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun,

had more than I deserved and jumped the gun,

I’ve been the butcher king who slaughtered the swine

and the long lost voice calling Martha’s line.

I committed the original sin that no one knows

by offering my throat to the wolf with the rose.

I’ve seen a modern girl born on a stormy night,

thought two out of three was bad when a lover took flight,

and seen not an eye in the house left dry

after I stumbled on “I love you” but it sounded like “goodbye.”

This man has the voice you’ll hear if angels sing,

he’s my rock ‘n’ roll hero, just like the king.

November 13, 2012 / AdamWritesPoems

Friend Of An Era

Hello old friends, it’s been too long.

We said ‘keep in touch’ but we were wrong,

and now it feels like as pals we fail,

the only contact an occasional mail.

Distracted, it seems, by children and wives

we’ve missed so much of each others’ lives:

one lost a baby but couldn’t say

another struggled to tell us he’s gay,

so we should all regret not being there

when they needed us to show we care.

At school we made fraternal ties

but now I start to realise

that the in jokes no one understood

have faded in our adulthood.

The riots in Leeds when we shared our fear

after singing the songs we wanted to hear,

the pub garden where chat flowed so free

we stayed until too dark to see

and the laughing at each others’ expense

all seem so far away just ten years hence.