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Ben Jones Jun 2015
No room for me beneath the tree
With leaves obscuring all I see
A gentleman must sit and browse
No room for me beneath the boughs

No place I've found on open ground
No aging log in sunlight drowned
To rest my legs, to ease my pains
No place for me upon the plains

No spot in town to settle down
A concrete smudge of dark renown
With footsteps to a thousand beats
No spot for me on city streets

No home for I, up in the sky
Or cloudy nest on feathered high
To dither by with fancy free
Up in the blue, no room for me

No comfy place in outer space
Just rocks at meteroric pace
No aliens in cosmic cars
No space for me between the stars

I'm running out of options fast...
Ben Jones Jun 2015
Be sure to shut the curtains
And careful not to peep
Best prop a chair against the door
Before you go to sleep
I’ve heard there’s been a breakout
At the local Poet’s Ward
He absconded with a biro
Which he wielded like a sword

He punctuated seven guards
A capital offence
Then walked out simultaneously
In the past and present tense
He’s liable to strike at will
And evil to the core
Beware of ***** limericks
Pushed underneath your door
Ben Jones May 2015
If my eyes were only blue
I’d have lived another life
I would exercise and diet
Even use a fork and knife
I’d reside in higher circles
Be a black belt in Kung-Fu
Then I’d water-ski for Britain
If my eyes were only blue

If my nose was independent
Like a pink nomadic slug
It could slither underneath my eyes
And give my ears a hug
I’d never need a smoke alarm
Nor microwave attendant
It could wipe itself without me
If my nose was independent

If my feet were only crocodiles
The world would be at peace
I’d drift along the riverbanks
While mutilating geese
I’d never buy a pair of shoes
No pedicures and files
I’d need a special toilet
If my feet were crocodiles

**
Ben Jones Apr 2015
A world bereft of censorship
Would fraught with peril be
The populace could fck and sht
With bllocks swinging free
The t
tties most voluptuous
Assorted ases too
Could slap together merrily
On c
cks, ***** and true

Words like bstiality
Might find a daily use
How else could someone f
st a sheep
Or pnetrate a goose?
Teab
gging would hit the news
And maybe anl flching
Pnis fighting might break out
Or rampant fa
ny belching

Censorship will save your eyes
And stop you going blind
But though you might not see the words
I've put them in your mind
You can’t hide from profanity
Behind a single star
Why disguise things from yourself?
You’ll still know what they are
Sorry ;)
Ben Jones Apr 2015
Oh waiter my dear fellow
There's a beetle in my soup
He's swimming around the croutons
In a never ending loop

Oh waiter tarry hither
There's a slug inside my pie
He's guzzling the gravy up
And the pastry's gone all dry

Oh waiter while your present
There's a mouse under the chips
She's built a fence of runner beans
To guard them from the dips

Oh waiter please attend to me
There's foxes in my drink
They clambered in a while ago
And plain refuse to sink

Oh waiter hurry back to me
There's a walrus in my cake
He bellows if I dare approach
And makes the jelly shake

Oh waiter fetch a napkin
There's a horse...
Ben Jones Apr 2015
There’s a place where it’s always the daytime
Where the sun never moves through the sky
Though I’m sure there’s a logical reason
Pray, permit me to not explain why
So abundantly verdantly fruitful
Is the flora that smothers the ground
That the floor is a tangle of taproots
And the soil can seldom be found

The canopy merges and mingles
As it fights with itself for the light
So the trunks hold a desolate vigil
In a world of perpetual night
Its inhabitants skulk in the shadows
With unblinking and baleful eyes
Eating only what falls from the darkness
Just the dead or the soon to demise
Ben Jones Mar 2015
Bathe yourself in shades of night
Remove the light of day
Comb the worry from your hair
And feel it fall away
Find a thing of which you’re sure
Then turn it on its side
Bring it to me by the edge of the sea
At the cusp of the morning tide

Blink away the filaments
Illusion has you blind
And a cobweb of confusion
Is enveloping your mind
Take solace in an empty jar
And ***** the lid on tight
Bring it to me by the sycamore tree
In the middle of yesterday night

Clothe your form in alchemy
With just a twist of lime
Smash the face of every clock
To save yourself some time
Take a single weary breath
And wrap it up in twine
Bring it to me by the duty free
In exchange for a bottle of wine
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