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Gerald
23/M/Far away    IG: catch.inthe.dark
Jack Fitzgerald
Poetry makes for the best of biographies.
Nilan Gerald Handunge
Sri Lanka    Words fail in describing the human experience. Poets still try on occasion.

Poems

Rob Sep 2011
Gerald sat by the window,
He didn’t know why,
Perhaps it was because he liked,
To watch the passers by.

Gerald wasn’t very mobile,
In fact he was grossly fat,
And when he did get to up to shuffle,
His buttocks they did flap,

From under his greasy nightshirt,
The nightmarish apparitions appeared,
And Gerald, being Gerald,
Did what the passers by all feared.

He’d stand upon the chair,
And lift the nightshirt high,
And press upon the window pane,
His voluminous backside,

And a smile would play,
On his sugar donought crusted lips,
As the people who had seen this,
Would gasp and run in fits,

And Gerald laughed and giggled,
Because Gerald didn’t care,
It seemed to him he’d just prefer,
If none of them were there.

But he hadn’t always been lonely,
And when younger far from fat,
Handsome had he been once,
And considered quite a catch,

And caught he was by a pretty young girl,
Who soon became his wife,
And they loved and fought,
And loved and thought, that this would last for life.

And so it did,
But for her and not for him.
So Gerald sat by the window,
Which is where I did begin.
RD  © 2010
Ben Jones  Nov 2013
Gerald's Ark
Ben Jones Nov 2013
Outside an average sort of house
Upon a quiet street
There stood a man of honest heart
All grim and weather beat
His face awash with bafflement
A letter in his mits  
With Lots of Love from God himself
And golden twirly bits

He'd read it over breakfast
Then read it on the loo
Considered re-addressing it
For number forty two
Within the silver envelope
In angel script, embossed
Were plans to build a massive boat
Materials and cost

It seemed, he'd have to build  it
As the letter looked legit
So off he sped, to B&Q;
To show the holy writ
The manager was confident
The price was mighty bold
Delivery on Saturday
For every item sold

So late, on Friday evening
He popped out for a walk
Upon his road, he drew a boat
In vivid yellow chalk
When morning dawned, a knocking
And some paperwork to mark
For a thousand tonnes of timber
For construction of an ark

He set out with his hammer
And he smote the nail and tack
By afternoon, the road was blocked
With traffic tailing back
A keel was just discernible
Beginning to take form
By evening, the media
Was whipping up a storm

Up marched a bold reporter
From the Three Times Weekly Herald
He said "So you'd be Noah then?"
"Not me" said he "I'm Gerald"
"I got this 'Oly telegram
And God has chosen me
I fill a boat with wildlife
And sail the salty sea"

By night he was a laughing stock
On YouTube and the news
But a sturdy man, was Gerald
And most vehement in his views
When asked to show the letter
He graciously refused
"Just have a little faith" he said
"We'll soon see who's amused"

The church were being skeptical
And held the press at bay
The Council sent him letters
At a rate of four a day
The hull was soon completed
And he laboured on inside
Constructing some amenities
To house them on the tide

A swimming pool for waterfowl
A wall of rodent wheels
With bowls for every kind of fish
And a big one for the seals
A filing box for butterflies
To stow them all away
A pigeon hole for pigeons
For the bees , a large bouquet

A puzzle for the monkeys
A wardrobe for the moths
A lion for the antelope
A jacuzzi for the sloths
A fully fitted nursery
For when the ewes had lambed
The wasps would have a picnic
And the beavers could be dammed

Through night and day he toiled
He relieved himself in shifts
In time, he built a sauna
And a pair of turbolifts
The council grew impatient
And the neighbours were in fits
They begged him to remove his boat
Entire or in bits

Then promptly, after dinner
As he sat upon the deck
There called a suited doctor  
With a badge around his neck
There followed many questions
With a host of funny looks
While outside went from 'fine and warm'
To 'just the thing for ducks'

That night, began the deluge
So Gerald found his crew
He robbed each local pet shop
And attacked the nearest zoo
Collected every animal
And fastened them in tight
The waters coursed along his street
As dawn replaced the night

'Twas then a thought occurred to him
A kind of mental swerve  
His road was more a crescent
So his ark was on a curve
But just then the currents took him
He sailed off along the bend
For six weeks, going round and round
To land at home, The End

**