Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
16.1k · Jan 2017
Trump's Trumpet
Chris Neilson Jan 2017
If Trump played a trombone or trumpet
he'd say, "like it or lump it"

If Trump called a woman a strumpet
he'd say, "like it or lump it"

If Trump preached hate from a pulpit
he'd say, "like it or lump it"

If Trump gets dumped on his ****
would he "like it or lump it"?
1.7k · Jun 2018
Lamplight Lament
Chris Neilson Jun 2018
C'mon silence, come to me
lay me down on bended knee
head bowed as if in prayer
but into space I vacantly stare
lost in my own fragile ego
presumed lost seeds to sow
from soil rich from sun and rain
to banish fears and nagging pain

C'mon tranquility, show me pity
show me this world's not so ******
lift my spirits to ethereal healing
keep me afloat from a sinking feeling
peace be with you my friend
reciprocate my ear to lend
a faint sound of a ticking clock
with no surprises or a shock

C'mon interruptions, give me a break
when trying to sleep you keep me awake
know when a man needs his rest
don't put his patience to the test
let him find his way to good health
allay tormentors who come by stealth
my phone's off, my writing radar is on
inking my thoughts before they're gone

C'mon life, give me time to live you
there's still so much to see and do
though I never cut the umbilical cord
I need some contentment and reward
my spoken word in you I trust
before my bones turn to dust
don't let me die wondering why
my tears were never allowed to dry
A confessional piece after suffering health issues over the last few years.
Thanks for reading
1.4k · May 2018
Time for tea
Chris Neilson May 2018
There's a science in making tea
with milk or without
loose leaf or bags
a multitude of herbal types
so don't believe the hype
of coffee snobs bits and bobs
of elitism and choice of beans
pretentious names ending in 'o'
exotic, ****** when said slow

English tea tells it like it is
Tetley, Yorkshire, PG Tips
Ireland has its Barry's Tea
everyone knows a Barry
the bloke down the pub
sitting on his stool at the bar
like Norm and Cliff at Cheers
sinking cold beers
while shooting the breeze
while Frasier sips his
double non-fat decaff latte
on a beanbag in the corner
of the Cafe Nervosa
where no one knows your name
or from where you came

Coffee breath stinks
reminds me of teachers
at school with nicotine nails
so if you ask me
it's time for tea
with a choccy biccie
when a chinwag beckons
with a fellow tea enthusiast
you can trust a tea drinker
they have patience and taste
always sipping without haste

Delicate bone china cups
enhance the tea experience
big daft mugs filled with
evil smelling frappamaclattitianno
or some such name
from a coffee chain
leaves stains on the soul
of the tea fanatic
if you ask me
it's time for tea
Tea rules!
1.4k · Apr 2017
Hello Poetry Actors
Chris Neilson Apr 2017
We're all actors in the HP play
on and off our poetry stage
writing lines to fulfil the day
plenty placate while others rage

Making a point through rhyme and prose
to varying audience replies
scriptwriters delivering body blows
thespians striking between the eyes

Exchanging sentiments of respect
interchanging from reader to writer
a past love many keen to resurrect
or for the bitten to be the biter

Dull day jobs or working from home
paying mortgages, rents and bills
then back to our poetic platform
a cathartic aim to cure all ills
Blowing air kisses to you all my dahlings
1.2k · May 2017
Mancunian Warmth & Spirit
Chris Neilson May 2017
In Manchester today we're hurting
evil has visited our great city
children among murdered innocents

As shock permeates our very being
we grieve with the bereaved
united in our condemnation

Mancunian warmth and spirit to the fore
we've been bombed and terrorised before
this pointless atrocity won't break us

In the midst of unimaginable horror
reports of selfless heroic bravery
in this city love will always prevail
My home city the centre of attention for the wrong reasons today
1.2k · Nov 2017
A Poet's Sanctuary
Chris Neilson Nov 2017
Hello Poetry is a poet's sanctuary
where we can kick off our shoes
slovenly slouch in lounge pants
or nothing if that's your thing
or sing while you muse to music
or sit in silence stroking your chin
like a suburban Shakespeare
of century number twenty one

Less friendly formal places
we may have previously frequented
with elitist farty upstarts cluttering
our thought space with condescension
and telling us we're doing it wrong
as if they invented our genre of choice
with rigidity and rules and other turdage
oh what buffoonish balderdash!

Our inner thoughts and dreams
can be spilled forth without worry
or risk of arrest by the poetry police
we can be poets anonymous
we can come and go as we please
we can bond and virtually hug
we can freely express ourselves
we can be who we want to be
With love to the HP massive!
871 · Nov 2017
Doctor, Doctor
Chris Neilson Nov 2017
"Doctor, I'm having trouble sleeping
I'm beset by creative thought processes
afflicted by rhyming couplets and alliteration
I was humble but now I mumble and fumble
my life's stumbling and crumbling".

"Please continue Mr Neilson"

"Thanks Doc, I can't fit food in my mouth
it's full of words struggling for oration
to a receptive, perceptive audience
all fruits are similes to me
all vegetables have become metaphors
and some not safe for work.

"Ah ha, I think I know what's going on here
take this list of phone numbers and website addresses.
I recommend open microphone performance for your condition, particularly those with supportive, amiable hosts, there are many in Greater Manchester, you should find it cathartic and it should help"

"OK doc, what exactly is your diagnosis?"

"You are a poetaholic"
Sometimes it feels that way :)
851 · Mar 2017
Miss Anthropy
Chris Neilson Mar 2017
She felt Facebook was an unnecessary evil
why live in a vicarious virtual void?
erstwhile friends kidnapped by social media
even her beloved doting dog was annoyed

She directed bitterness towards Twitter
140 characters hardly a ballet
no proof to her the world was kind
no shield to keep her demons away

She retreated into a twilight existence
a bleak future beckoned without a foothold
obstinate obscurity and sliding into oblivion
out of the darkness she suddenly struck gold

Miss Anthropy wasn't born to despise mankind
an outlet was needed to rid her of hate
she changed her ways via writing and verse
finding Hello Poetry and her true soul mate!
A play on words
624 · Jan 2018
Poetry Boom!
Chris Neilson Jan 2018
I read in the news today
we are in a poetry boom
to write our own way
we all have wriggle room

The artform's star is rising
populism over intellectuality
****** attitudes declining
celebrating individuality

Books are flying off shelves
fresh voices heard online
we just can't help ourselves
accessibility is now fine

Collective confidence is growing
we're dining at the grown-ups table
on ancient cobwebs we're blowing
our poetic future's strong and stable
'tis true my friends. We've never been so popular. Strike while the iron's hot!
331 · Sep 2018
I May Never
Chris Neilson Sep 2018
I may never reach my ultimate goal
always trying to save your soul
never discovering sustainable joy
always scheming with a plot and ploy

I may never find what I'm looking for
always pacifying and renouncing war
never feeling healthy for more than a week
always hiding when I should seek

I may never see the perfect day
always feel like running away
never felt comfortable in my own skin
always losing when it's easier to win

I may never curb negative feelings
always looking up at glass ceilings
never saying I like you
always thinking I love you
Deep, real deep, eh?
84 · Jan 15
Chris Neilson Jan 15
I regress to a womb position
curled up in my bed of sorrow
comfortable in my protection
from horrible hostility
as age takes a firm grip
of my state of consciousness
deep breathing brings relief
counting my years backwards
to pre birth and my mother's womb
It's my mum's birthday tomorrow, 87 and still living a full, active life
77 · Jan 8
Jaded January
Is jaded January here to stay?
will winter doom and gloom ever go away?
afternoon descending into another dark night
lost in a fog of uncertainty with no end in sight

Every day can feel like a mountain to climb
so go at your own pace, take your time
if life is a marathon, why run it in 2 hours?
stop to think, breathe the air, smell the flowers

A new year can bring hope of better days ahead
what's done is over, the future don't dread
live in the moment when days lose their meaning
housework and chores, I'm sure that shelf's leaning

No two days should ever be the same
pointlessly fanning a dwindling flame
welcome in good health, don't show it the door
good days aren't one-offs, there will be plenty more

Won't be long before the days are lighter
when the sun shines, our worlds feel brighter
feelings of sadness are normal this time of year
stay close to warm hearts, may they bring you cheer
Go well everyone
Chris Neilson Jan 10
A house without an
onion is akin to
a meal time meltdown
Never run out of onions
32 · 1d
Mindful of my bread slice
tasting sweeter than I knew
mindful of a roll of a dice
of when bills are due

Mindful of the ticking clock
of my body as it ages
mindful of a hole in my sock
and turning poetry pages

Mindful of the roar of silence
in my ears when all is calm
mindful of cheeky poetic licence
which rarely does any harm

Mindful of my own chaotic mind
processing trillions of thoughts
mindful of trying to separate
the crosses from the noughts
Practicing mindfulness

— The End —