Mr Uku Feb 10
He creeps into my bedroom in the dark while I’m asleep
He’s silent and he’s stealthy and he does not make a peep
Carefully he tiptoes round and sits upon my bed
Then, HUURK HUURK HURRRRRRK, drops a furball on my head

He’s the prince in the velvet coat, the king of the house
Though he doesn’t seem to do much and has never caught a mouse
He lords it over all of us from the easy chair
Cos my cat’s a wanker and he just don’t care
Ran out of steam, and got distracted, with this weeks 52 poem challenge.
A dance
in the
flight ingenious
a team
snare at
yip afield
this fraught
license overland
altogether so
nil in
sides of
play but
torturous slide
as mortals
divisive incline
to march
afoot lawn
A coach's lament
Mr Uku Feb 2
D’ya wanna come to my house?
D’ya wanna come for tea?
Dya wanna play some board games
and spend some time with me?

D’ya wanna go the pictures?
D’ya wanna sit and talk?
D’ya wanna go to Maccie Ds
or go out for a walk?

D’ya wanna go the park with me?
D’ya wanna  hug the trees?
D’ya wanna go for ice-cream
and hope your brain don’t freeze?

D’ya wanna hold my hand a while?
D’ya wanna be my friend?
D’ya wanna come and be with me
and hope the day don’t end?
Written for week 4 of the 52 poem challenge.
Mr Uku Jan 12
I’ve been running about round the park like a twat
And it’s too bloody cold and I’m too bloody fat
I’ve forgotten my gloves and I ain’t got an ‘at
And the shorts that I’m in make me look like a prat

There are dogs on those leads that are too bloody long
And the people that walk them are walking them wrong
And I get tangled up with the lead and the pup
And the dog walkers laugh as I trip myself up

I gasp and I wheeze as I trundle around
Past the kids on the swings who are laughing out loud
Cos the sweat in my shorts makes it look like I’ve pissed
And my knee’s swelling up cos I’m getting a cyst

The friction is burning and hurting my thighs
And I’m not getting thinner, they’re still the same size
I finally get home and collapse on the mat
I’m not sure it’s worth it, I think I’ll stay fat
Week 2 of the 52 poem challenge brought this poem out in me.
Mr Uku Jan 4
Twelve months to try.
Twelve months to fail.
Twelve months to scream.
Twelve months to wail.
Twelve months to pick
Twelve months to choose
Twelve months to win
Twelve months to lose
Twelve months to do.
Twelve months to be.
Twelve months to look.
Twelve months to see.
Twelve months to take
Twelve months to give.
Twelve months to die.
Twelve months to live.
Done for week 1 of the 52 poem challenge. The theme for this week is my approach to the next 12 months.
Nancy Delgado Oct 2015
beating as i lay my head
ongoing fast pulses as i close my eyes
and when i awake, it's all the same.
conscious pulsing always.

— The End —