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There's something deeply satisfying
In decimating a piece of runaway tissue
With a healthy jet of ****.

I stand towering above it
As it clings stealthily to the ceramics
And
      cackle
                as
                   I
                     reduce
                                 it
                                    to
                                        mush.

It bleeds yellow.
I feel no remorse.

Perhaps that's why
If the world were ruled by women
There'd be less war.
As I struggle against the tide
Of two eggs in the same pan
Cosying up, embracing
Destined to be as one

I realise that it's just no use
To maintain a division
Between two born of the one same mother
Be that Mother Hen or Mother Nature
5.3k · Sep 2011
Desperado Dan
Desperado Dan
Is a man with a plan
To cash in a bit of Kensington
On some high grade *****
Cos right now he's got a couple of scores
But not a great deal more to loose

You see, our Dan is a master of the modern day quill
He works an open office, clocking in and out at will
But after reading all the greats from his and every bygone age
He lives in a time where the mp3 subverts the written page

So night and day he hums away
Searching for that hit chorus
And he knows you can't cut corners
When it comes to tanking up on creative juices

A Desperado is larger beer spiked with tequila
Some say it's for scoundrels to make charming girls easier
But our Dan's quest is noble.
He has a dream we'd all like to believe in
He simply wants to do his whole life’s work in just one evening
And a Desperado seems to conjure all six hats within one head
So if two minds are better than one...well, nuff said

He dilutes them at first, pulling the wool over his own eyes
Until, catching reflections on the glass, he sees through the disguise.
And before long you'll find him chugging straight from the bottle
Then, in a blur of paper and pen, Dan writes like there's no tomorrow.

He writes and writes and writes some more
a couplet, a bridge, an underscore
Ploughing verses like trenches through the ****** white paper
Dropping napalms just to see what pops it's head above the wreckage.

Then, surveying the new landscape, he quarries in every direction…

Linearly; because it's most straightforward like that
Circularly; because they used to think the world was flat

Logically; because... Well duh!
Laterally; which gives the brain a stir

Diagonally; some kinda a + b = c rap from back in the day
In reverse; because sometimes we unknowingly face the wrong way

Unapologetically
Down dead ends
Just to see the view

He picks up clichés and looks under them for clues

Desperado Dan
Calls for desperate measures
As the evening wears on
He indulges all his earthly pleasures

And down they go with a Yo ** **
What a ***** desperado!
***** I say! Now he's mixing with ***
Still his pencil flies with a blistered thumb

'E starts to drop 'is H's
And forgets to cross his l's...sorry t's
He paces back and forwards
An he talks like mushy peas

Rummaging frantically through chaotic pockets
Conjunctives falling to the floor
He can't find the word he's after, but who cares? There’s plenty more!
He begins to vengefully split infinitives in two
And hurl metaphors across the kitchen
Sending mountains of ******* up ***** of paper flying
Like snowballs after the thaw
Which slowly melt into puddles of lonely vowels and consonants.
Long after he has gone.

----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------

But all that was before the "Doodley Dee"
And his dream came true with a change of key
The song which people can't help to hum
From OAPs to the I-generation
And people hummed it all over
And in all sorts of weather
Until someone decided we should hum it forever.
And they paid Desperado Dan for every hum
Not bad work for a blistered thumb

So now our Dan seems a lot less desperate.
From time to time he evens finds an hour or two to rest a bit
Sitting on the veranda of his studio in the south of France.
Applying the finishing touches to another comedy romance.
Sipping a very fine Sauvignon, no Desperado in sight.

They're all safely packed away in the cellar

Just in case he gets the urge

Late at night.
3.0k · Dec 2011
Fingering
Sitting in our tutorial
Just me and Nick
Both surreptiously
Watching the seconds tick

"Kevin", Nick pauses,
I'm glad he's got something to say,
"What's it called when girls ****?"

OK, wasn't expecting that...

I ponder for a second
To consider my response
I'd quite like it if  I don't have to say the word '****' myself
Or any synonym.

Fortunately, spurred on by his youth,
Nick saves the day:
"Is it called *******?"

"Yeah I think either one would do
Now let's get back to this history,
Where did ****** bomb in 1942?"

So the lesson continues
Just Nick and me
Both surreptiously
Massively relieved


PS
Strictly speaking, '*******' is when someone else's hand is involved.
'To finger oneself' is the equivalent to *******.
I have no regrets that I failed to make this distinction at the time.

Part 2 (a few weeks later)

"Kevin, this might sound like a funny question, but
Have you heard of a camel-toe?"
Me: "er...No"
2.3k · Sep 2011
Bike Fright
Earlier on tonight
I came within this close of losing my life
On Buckingham Palace Road.

He was doing 50 and I wasn't wearing any lights.

And like freshly cut spaghetti
Relief took over fright
The car drove past and the man had a face like this...

But I was too busy thanking my lucky stars
For coming out tonight.

And if I'd died tonight, everyone would have said.
"Ahhh what a shame. But...it was late at night and...and he didn't have any lights....so...y'know."

And the man doing 50 would probably have said he was doing thirty and just didn't see me.

I'd have hated to have died like that.
1.9k · Dec 2011
Lucky
I was pulling up in the car park at the Immigration Removal Centre
When I realised that I'd completely f 'ed up

Having remembered:
- portable recording studio
- condensor microphones x 2 (one of them doesn't work, dunno which one, they look the same)
- dynamic microphone (sometimes works)
- XLR cables x 2 (in a tangled mess)
- Jack cables x 2 (joining the party)
- headphones
- headphone splitter (a remedy for people who are always on their phone?!)
- big-to-little adapters
- kettle lead (so named because it dates back from when the kettle was king)
- guitar
- and two folders of important bits of paper (well, at least some of it might be important)

I suddenly realised that I'd forgotten the only genuinely essential thing.
My passport.
You can't get in without your passport.
That's the rule and the rules don't bend.
Security is paramount.

I find my colleague, Lucky, sitting in his car.
Lucky: "Kev, you aren't gonna believe this but..."
He didn't need to say anymore.
I knew that he had done the same thing.
Lucky and I were in the same *** of s*.

But for some reason they made an exception.
We were lucky.
It must had rubbed off.

(true story)
1.3k · Sep 2011
Once there was a Cup
Once there was a Cup
And inside the cup there was a Dragon
And the dragon shrank to the size of a pencil sharpener
And inside the pencil sharpener there was a needle
And the needle grew to the size of a chopstick
And I used it to clean my ears
And Ive been hearing better ever since.

With my newly clean ears
I realised that
I'd heard the poem all wrong.
What it really said was...

Once there was a Hat
And inside the hat there was a wagon
And the wagon shrank to the size of a bottle opener
And inside the bottle opener there was a beetle
And the beetle put on some lipstick
And I used the lipstick to help me speak more clearly.
And I've been speaking more clearly ever since.
1.1k · Dec 2013
On Paddy Fields
Such perfect pools of poetry, these paddy fields.

So much so that,
When it comes to budding poets and rice,
Bali must be up to its knees in them.
Thanks to Richard Chapman for helping me finish
979 · Sep 2011
My Desktop
Once there was a large open field on my desktop
With bright green grass and clear blue skies

Now the remains of living lie strewn
And the sky is littered with icons
949 · Dec 2013
Wasgij
Writing poems is like doing jigsaw puzzles in reverse.
The last piece is always the trickiest bit.

So, to help with my poetry, I tried doing a jigsaw puzzle in reverse.
And ended up with nothing.
885 · Dec 2013
Crystal Glass Crescent
I threw open the door to the sky
And the ocean rushed in like oxygen to the flame
The crescent moon cut like crystal glass
Casting shards of starlight from a distant past
Drawing pin-****** of blood from my hands and my feet
Sending rivers of rosé which got lost in the sea
I heard distant laughter from an empty shore
I cried tears of joy and then drowned in it all.
865 · Dec 2011
No profile picture
People with no profile picture
Are like books with no cover

It's not that I'm gonna judge you on it.
838 · Dec 2013
Elemental Brothers
If Kev is the sky
With his head in the clouds
And Sie is the water
Always finding the level
In stroke and in flight
Ne’er twice the same brother
Each a perfectly formed
Reflection of the other
807 · Dec 2013
Three-fold
Physical movement
Shifts the golden gears of thought
And finds alignment in the chambers of my heart

OR

Movement
Turns the wheels of thought
Which help me find my feeling
677 · Nov 2014
Inbetween
I cut my hair
To let go of you
Who liked it long
And in a mess

Short and sweetness
Falls to the earth
And its in-between
I'm at my best.

— The End —